“Towards evening the wind fell, and we resumed our journey. We were not again interrupted by weather for more than a week after this, but were much perplexed by the chains of small lakes into which we came. At last we reached Clearwater Lake, and had a long consultation as to the best course to pursue, because it was now a question whether we should follow the chain of lakes by which we came up to Ungava in our canoes, or make a straight cut for the coast and take our chance of finding it. While we were yet uncertain what to do, our course was decided by a polar bear!”
“A polar bear!” cried Edith, in surprise.
“Ay; a polar bear and her cub settled the question for us, as you shall hear presently,” replied Frank. “But first hand me papa’s tobacco-pouch, please, as my pipe is exhausted.
“There, now,” continued Frank, re-lighting his pipe, and throwing a fresh log on the fire, “that’s comfortable. Well, as I said, we were somewhat perplexed as to what we should do, when, in wandering about the lake endeavouring to find the outlet, I came upon the track of a polar bear; and by the side of it were little foot-prints, which showed me that it was a she-bear with her cub. I observed that the tracks were quite fresh.
“‘Now, then, Maximus,’ said I, pointing to the tracks, which went to the westward, ‘there is a sure guide who will conduct us by the quickest route to the coast.’ I could tell this, Eda, because I knew that the bear had found food rather scarce in those high regions, and would descend Clearwater River in order to fish in the open water at the falls, which are very numerous in that river. On reaching the coast it would find plenty seals in the sea. In the meantime I had nothing to do but follow its track to be conducted by the shortest route to Clearwater River, the commencement of which was difficult to find owing to the flatness of the margin of the lake at this end. Away we went then, and, as I had expected, were soon led to the river, down the banks of which we scrambled, over rocks and crags, through bushes and snow, until we came to the coast at Richmond Gulf.
“But it took us many weeks to accomplish the journey which I have briefly sketched thus far, and when we reached the coast, worn with hard travel, and our clothing uncomfortably ragged, the spring was well advanced—rivers were breaking up, ducks and geese were passing to the north, and there were thousands of deer, so that we found ourselves suddenly in the midst of abundance. Just before reaching the gulf I witnessed the breaking up of a river, which was one of the grandest sights I ever saw.
“The river was not a very large one. On reaching it we were much struck with a curious barrier of ice that was jammed across it. On examination I saw that the ice had given way some time before we arrived there, and an enormous cake, of many yards surface and fully six feet thick, had, while being hurled along by the swelling water, caught upon the rugged rocks and been tilted upon end. Thus it formed a temporary barrier, against which other masses were forced until the outlet was completely checked, and the water began to rise with great rapidity. As we stood on the high cliff, looking down on the wild ravine in which this was going on, I heard a loud crack. In another instant the obstructing barrier burst like a thunderclap, and the pent-up waters leaped with one mighty roar into their accustomed channel! The devastation created was inconceivably grand. Rocks of many tons weight were torn up, cast like playthings on the rushing ice, and hurled on the cliffs below, while trees, and ice, and water swept down the gorge in a mad whirl, that made my brain reel as I gazed at it. In an hour the worst of this awful scene was over, but the unutterable desolation that was left will remain for centuries, I believe, to tell of the mighty rush that happened there.
“Our first experience of Richmond Gulf was not by any means pleasant. When we arrived it was covered with ice; but we did not know that, although it appeared to be solid enough, it was in reality little better than frozen sludge or foam. Oolibuck happened to be walking first, with the line of his little sled over his shoulder. For a short distance we plodded on, intending to cross the gulf; but I was suddenly aroused from a reverie by a shout from Maximus. Looking hastily up, I beheld nothing of Oolibuck except his head above the ice, while Maximus was trying to pull him out by hauling at the tail-line of the sled. Luckily Oolibuck had kept fast hold of the line which was over his shoulder, and after much trouble we succeeded in dragging him out of the water. A sharp frost happened to have set in, and before we got back to the shore the poor fellow’s garments were frozen so stiff that he could not run.
“‘This is a bad job, Maximus,’ said I; ‘we must carry him. Do you lift his head, and I’ll take the feet.’
“‘Oh be queek! I is frizzen up,’ cried Oolibuck, casting a rueful look through his tangled locks, which were a mere mass of icicles!