I am sure he would be the first to warn others from repeating
his error.

[Sidenote: Fatal Result of not Being Sure]

The expedition of which I speak started out with the purpose of
exploring Labrador. As the season is short some haste was necessary. The
party proceeded to the head of a certain lake into which they had been
told they would find a river flowing. They found a river, ascended it,
were conquered by the extreme difficulties of the stream, one of the
party perished, and the others came near to it.

As for the facts so far: The first thought to occur to a man entirely
accustomed to wilderness travel would be, is there perhaps another
stream? another river flowing into that lake? Encountering difficulties
he would become more and more uneasy as to that point, until at last he
would have detached a scout to make sure.

But mark this further: The party's informants had told Hubbard that he
would find the river easily navigable for eighteen miles. As a matter of
fact the expedition ran into shallows and rapids _within a half mile of
the lake_.

[Sidenote: What Should Have Been Done]

To a woodsman the answer would have stood out as plain as print. He
would have retraced his way, explored farther, found the right river,
and continued. But poor Hubbard was in a hurry, and moreover possessed
that optimistic temperament that so endeared him to all who knew him.
"They must have made a mistake in the distance. I guess this is all
right," said he, and pushed on against difficulties that eventually
killed him.

To a man accustomed to exploration such a mistake is inconceivable.
Labrador is not more dangerous than other wooded northern countries; not
so dangerous as the big mountains; much safer than the desert. A wrong
turn in any of these wildernesses may mean death. Forty men succumbed to
the desert last summer. Do not make that wrong turn. Be sure. Take
_nothing_ for granted--either that "they made a mistake in the
distance," or that "it's probably all right." One of the greatest of
American wilderness travelers knew this--as all wilderness travelers
must--and phrased it in an epigram that has become classic. "Be sure you
are right, and then go ahead," advised Daniel Boone.

[Sidenote: Alertness]

So you do not get lost--barring accidents--you are safe enough. But to
travel well you must add to your minor affairs the same quality,
slightly diluted, perhaps, that I have endeavored to describe above. In
this