When the outfit had been landed, and the canoes drawn up on shore, George walked up the bank a little way, and there, with folded arms, stood quite still for some time looking up the river.
Presently I asked: "What are you thinking, George?"
"I was just thinking how proud I am of this river," he replied.
It seemed luxurious on Sunday morning to be able to loiter over washing and dressing, to get into clean clothes, to read a little, and to look at the day itself. I had strained both feet the day before, and they were quite swollen, but did not hurt very much. My hands and face, too, were swollen and sore from the bites of the flies and mosquitoes. Having a rooted dislike to wearing a veil, I had deferred putting one on; but it was plain now that Labrador flies were soon to overrule all objections. When breakfast was announced at 10.30 A.M. the men had been for a swim, and appeared shaved and in clean clothes—Joe and Gilbert in white moleskin trousers. Everything was done in lazy fashion. Everyone loitered. It was washing day for all, and by noon the bushes along the shore were decorated in spots in most unwonted fashion. Later, walking up the shore a little way I came upon Gilbert cutting Joe's hair.
In the afternoon the men lay in the tent or on the bank under the trees reading their Bibles and singing very softly, almost as if afraid of disturbing the stillness of "the silent places," some of the fine old church hymns. A thunderstorm passed later, but it lasted only a short time, and the evening was fine. Job took a canoe and went up the river scouting. As we sat on the shore by the camp fire, after 9 P.M., and supper just ready, he came floating down again. The river carried him swiftly past us and he called "Good-bye, Good-bye." Then all at once the canoe turned and slipped in below the point. He reported the river rapid as far as he went or could see.
Monday we started at 8.30 A.M., crossing to the other shore, where I walked along a bear trail on the flats, while the men brought the canoes up by poling and tracking. The morning was wonderfully clear, and millions of dewdrops glistened on the low growth. The "country," or "Indian," tea which grew in abundance was in blossom, and the air was filled with fragrance. It seemed to me the most beautiful morning we had yet had.
As the river grew more and more difficult part of the outfit had to be portaged. Two miles above camp about half a load was put into one of the canoes, and slipping the noose of a tracking line round the bow George and Gilbert went forward with it, while Job and Joe got into the canoe to pole. Had it not been for my confidence in them I should have been anxious here, for the river was very rough, and close to shore, where they would have to go, was a big rock round which the water poured in a way that to me looked impassable. But I only thought, "They will know how to manage that," and picking up my kodaks I climbed up the bank to avoid the willows. I had just reached the top when looking round I saw the canoe turn bottom up like a flash, and both men disappeared.
I stood unable to move. Almost immediately Joe came up. He had caught the tracking line and held to it. Then I saw Job appear. He had not been able to hold to the canoe. The current had swept him off, and was now carrying him down the river. My heart sickened at the sight, and still I could not move. Then an eddy caught him, and he went down out of sight again. Again he appeared, and this time closer to us, for the eddy had somehow thrown him in shore where the water was not so deep. He was on his back now and swimming a little, but could neither get up nor turn over. I wondered why the men stood motionless watching him. Then it dawned on me that George was holding the canoe, and I found my voice to shout: "Run, Joe." Joe's own experience had for the moment dazed him, but now he suddenly came to life. Springing forward, he waded out and caught Job's hand before he was carried into deep water again. As he felt himself safe in Joe's strong grasp, Job asked: "Where is Mrs. Hubbard? Is she all right?"
At first he did not seem able to get up, but when George, on reaching the canoe, turned it right side up, and to the utter astonishment of every one, it appeared that nearly the whole load was still in it—the sight revived Job. He got up and came ashore to the canoe, which was found still to contain the two tents, one rifle, my fishing-rod, the sextant, and artificial horizon, a box of baking-powder, a box of chocolate, my sweater, three of the men's coats, and one tarpaulin. It seemed nothing less than miraculous, for the little craft had been bottom up for several minutes. During the reckoning Job heartened rapidly, and was soon making a joke of the experience, though this did not hide the fact that he had been well shaken up.
For a time thankfulness at the escape of the men, and that so much of the outfit had been saved, made me oblivious of everything else. Then gradually it came to the minds of the men what was missing, but it was some time before the list was complete, and I knew that we had lost all the axes, all the frying-pans, all the extra pole- shods, one pole, one paddle, the crooked knife, two pack-straps, one sponge, one tarpaulin, my stove, and Job's hat and pipe. The loss of the axes and the pole-shods was the most serious result of the accident, and I wondered how much that would mean, but had not the courage to ask the question. I feared the men would think they could not go on without the axes.