We found out later that such a report had really spread up the coast from dog driver to dog driver until it had reached Rigolet, and it was not until I got to Battle Harbour that I learned that its basis was the beginning of the conflict between Russia and Japan.
At Rigolet we were again hospitably received by Fraser, the factor. The news of Hubbard's death had preceded us; in fact it had been carried up and down the coast all the way from Cape Charles to Cape Chidley. Awaiting me was a letter from Dr. Cluny Macpherson, of the Deep Sea Mission at Battle Harbour, who, I was informed, had recently been to Rigolet and had hoped to see me. The letter proved to contain much valuable information as to stopping places and the probabilities of getting dogs between Rigolet and Battle Harbour, as well as the good news that a steamer was expected at Battle Harbour early in May.
I also learned from Fraser that Mr. Whitney, editor of Outing magazine, of which Hubbard had been the associate editor, had sent a message to the telegraph operator at Chateau Bay requesting him to lend me every assistance possible and "to spare no expense." Well-meant though the message was, it had the effect of increasing my difficulties. Duly exaggerated and embellished, it had spread up the coast until every dog owner gained the impression that a little gold mine was about to pass through his country. I found this out when I tried to get dog teams to carry me to Cartwright Post, the next stage on my journey. A haughty person named Jerry Flowers, it appeared, had a monopoly just then of the dog-team business in the vicinity of Rigolet, and when we arrived at the post he proceeded to deal with me in the high-handed manner common to trust magnates. The regular rate paid by traders for transportation over the eighty odd miles between Rigolet and Cartwright was from ten to twelve dollars a team, but for the two teams I needed Jerry expected me to pay him sixty dollars.
While I was still arguing with the immovable Jerry, John Williams, an old livyere, fortunately arrived from West Bay, which is half way to Cartwright, and Fraser used his influence with John to such good purpose that he consented to take us with his dog team at least as far as his home at the regular rate. John had only six dogs, but he told us we should be able to get an additional team at William Mugford's two miles beyond Rigolet.
The strait at Rigolet was open, and when, late in the afternoon of Monday, April 25th, we bade Mackenzie and Fraser farewell, George and I, with our baggage and Hubbard's body, were taken across through the cakes of floating ice in one of the Company's big boats, manned by a crew of brawny post servants.
On the other shore we loaded the baggage and coffin on John's komatik, and with him driving the dogs and George and I walking behind on snowshoes, we reached Mugford's at dusk. There we stopped for the night, being served with the meals that the people all down the coast usually eat at that time of the year—bread and molasses and tea. With one or two exceptions we had to sleep on the floor at the places where we stopped; for the houses generally contained only one room divided by a partition. Almost all of the houses had low extensions used as a storage place, and there Hubbard's body would rest over night. Never did we pay anything for our entertainment; poor as the people are, they would be greatly offended if a traveller they took in offered them money.
Generally speaking, we had good weather for our long journey to Battle Harbour and pretty fair going. Day after day we followed the coast line south, crossing from neck of land to neck of land over the frozen bays and inlets. Sometimes we encountered ridges on the necks of land, and then we would have to help the dogs haul the loads to the top. Resuming our places on the komatiks, we would coast down the slopes, with the dogs racing madly ahead to keep from being run over. If the descent was very steep, a drag in the form of a hoop of braided walrus hide would be thrown over the front of one of the komatik runners, but even then the dogs would have to run their hardest to preserve a safe distance between them and us, and out on the smooth ice of the bays we would shoot, to skim along with exhilarating swiftness. As we proceeded south we were interested in observing signs of spring. Towards the end of our journey we encountered much soft snow and water-covered ice.
Mugford agreed to help us out with his four dogs as far as West Bay. Arriving there, we found that only one team was procurable for the rest of the trip to Cartwright, so John Williams continued on with us all the way. Forty or fifty miles a day is about all that dogs can be expected to accomplish with average going, and we spent two days between Rigolet and Cartwright, reaching the Hudson's Bay Company Post at Sandwich Bay on the evening of Wednesday, April 27th, to receive kindly welcome from the agent, Mr. Swaffield. Again at Cartwright we had some difficulty in getting dogs, and it was not until Friday morning that we could push on. These delays were exasperating, for I was bent on catching the steamer that Dr. Macpherson informed me in his letter was due at Battle Harbour early in May.
Our journey resumed, it was a case of fighting dog owners all the way. Seal Islands, about ninety miles farther down the coast, we reached on Saturday night, April 30th. There we had the good fortune to be entertained by a quaint character in the person of Skipper George Morris, a native trader. He had been expecting us, and he greeted me as if I had been his long-lost brother.
"Dear eyes!" he exclaimed, wringing my hand in his bluff, cordial way; "Dear eyes! but I'se glad to see you—wonderful glad!"