While the boys were finishing the dressing of the bull's hide, I, remembering the current from the last bay, set out on foot over the land to learn the reason. A couple of miles brought me to a ridge from which I made the most important geographical discovery of the journey. Stretching away before me to the far dim north-west was a great, splendid river—broad, two hundred yards wide in places, but averaging seventy or eighty yards across—broken by white rapids and waterfalls, but blue deep in the smoother stretches and emptying into the bay we had noticed. So far as the record showed, I surely was the first white man to behold it. I went to the margin; it was stocked with large trout. I followed it up a couple of miles and was filled with the delight of discovery. "Earl Grey River"', I have been privileged to name it after the distinguished statesman, now Governor-general of Canada.
Then and there I built a cairn, with a record of my visit, and sitting on a hill with the new river below me, I felt that there was no longer any question of the expedition's success. The entire programme was carried out. I had proved the existence of abundance of Caribou, had explored Aylmer Lake, had discovered two great rivers, and, finally, had reached the land of the Musk-ox and secured a record-breaker to bring away. This I felt was the supreme moment of the journey.
Realizing the farness of my camp, from human abode—it could scarcely have been farther on the continent—my thoughts flew back to the dear ones at home, and my comrades, the men of the Camp-fire Club. I wondered if their thoughts were with me at the time. How they must envy me the chance of launching into the truly unknown wilderness, a land still marked on the maps as "unexplored!" How I enjoyed the thoughts of their sympathy over our probable perils and hardships, and imagined them crowding around me with hearty greetings on my safe return! Alas! for the rush of a great city's life and crowds, I found out later that these, my companions, did not even know that I had been away from New York.
CHAPTER XXXVI
THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES AND MY FARTHEST NORTH
Camp Musk-Ox provided many other items of interest besides the Great River, the big Musk-ox, and the Arctic Fox. Here Preble secured a Groundsquirrel with its cheek-pouches full of mushrooms and shot a cock Ptarmigan whose crop was crammed with leaves of willow and birch, though the ground was bright with berries of many kinds. The last evening we were there a White Wolf followed Billy into camp, keeping just beyond reach of his shotgun; and, of course, we saw Caribou every hour or two.
"All aboard," was the cry on the morning of August 19, and once more we set out. We reached the north arm of the lake, then turned north-eastward. In the evening I got photos of a Polar Hare, the third we had seen. The following day (August 20), at noon, we camped in Sandhill Bay, the north point of Aylmer Lake and the northernmost point of our travels by canoe. It seems that we were the fourth party of white men to camp on this spot.
Captain George Back, 1833-34.
Stewart and Anderson, 1855.
Warburton Pike, 1890.
E. T. Seton, 1907.
All day long we had seen small bands of Caribou. A score now appeared on a sandhill half a mile away; another and another lone specimen trotted past our camp. One of these stopped and gave us an extraordinary exhibition of agility in a sort of St. Vitus's jig, jumping, kicking, and shaking its head; I suspect the nose-worms were annoying it. While we lunched, a fawn came and gazed curiously from a distance of 100 yards. In the after-noon Preble returned from a walk to say that the Caribou were visible in all directions, but not in great bands.
Next morning I was awakened by a Caribou clattering through camp within 30 feet of my tent.