Millais himself had not travelled over this ground, so the map published in his book only gave an approximate idea of the country and its waterways. I had secured the services of Steve Bernard, Millais' head man, and he was to meet me with two other Indians at the head of Long Harbour when I would send a wire.
My route was to be Placentia to Belleoram by the Glencoe. At Belleoram Mr. Ryan, who is in charge of the telegraph station at the head of Long Harbour, was to meet me in his sailing schooner the Caribou, and from Long Harbour we were to pack in to Hungry Grove Pond, where the canoes were to be ready.
We did not get away from Placentia till 1 a.m., and crossing Placentia Bay arrived at Burin the following morning in a thick fog, which occasionally lifted, showing a fine, wild coast with rocky headlands on all sides. Burin was a pretty spot, and I saw it better on my return when there was no fog. We arrived at Grand Bank, a big fishing town, in the evening, but the fog outside was so thick that the Captain decided to anchor till 2 a.m. and then cross Fortune Bay to Belleoram.
Grand Bank was responsible for the change in the sailing date of the Glencoe. Leaving Placentia on Saturday she was due at Grand Bank on Sunday. The inhabitants being very religious objected to loading and unloading on Sunday, so the sailing was changed to Wednesday, and their consciences were satisfied. They forgot, however, that they made some smaller port of call further west break the Sabbath, but being one of the most important shipping centres in the cod season their views had to be met.
We arrived at Belleoram at 6 a.m. on the 26th, feeling our way along the coast with our foghorn.
I and my belongings were turned out on the pier and I felt my trip had at last begun.
The Caribou was in harbour and a boat put off with Steve Bernard, who had come down to meet me and help Mr. Ryan, who was laid up on board with a bad leg. I at once went out to call on Mr. Ryan, as I wanted to get away as soon as possible. I found a sturdy Irishman of about sixty, full of go and energy, and in the cheeriest spirits, only extremely annoyed at the bad leg, which made him pretend to lie up, for lie up he never did, his restless nature would not allow it, and he was always on the move.
His illness began with a boil, but he would go off into the woods after caribou and so irritated it, that the boil had developed into a large sloughing ulcer with considerable inflammation. He did not seem to mind it much and insisted on hobbling about the deck.
There was only one place at which I was recommended to put up in case I had to stay in Belleoram, so I went up to call on Mrs. Cluett and incidentally forage for breakfast. I received a courteous welcome and had plenty of eggs, bread and butter, and tea. Getting back to the Caribou I persuaded Ryan to make a start. There was a thick fog and it was blowing hard; however, away we went in grand style, steering for the different points which loomed through the fog. As soon as we got into the open and had to cross some twelve or fourteen miles of open sea, an ancient and dilapidated compass was produced from the confusion of below, for the Caribou was not altogether a tidy boat; the compass gave a certain moral support, but the needle refused to point in any direction steadily for more than five minutes. Ryan would give it a smack, "Sure I think she's only about five points out now," and in a few minutes, "She's gone all wrong again."