Mr. Young Regretted Not Meeting The Indians Here, But Mission Work
Also Had To Be Left Until Next Season.
Our happy crew hoisted sail
to a fair wind, shouted "Good-bye, Sum Dum!" and soon after dark
reached a harbor a few miles north of Hobart Point.
We made an early start the next day, a fine, calm morning, glided
smoothly down the coast, admiring the magnificent mountains arrayed
in their winter robes, and early in the afternoon reached a lovely
harbor on an island five or six miles north of Cape Fanshawe. Toyatte
predicted a heavy winter storm, though only a mild rain was falling
as yet. Everybody was tired and hungry, and as the voyage was nearing
the end, I consented to stop here. While the shelter tents were being
set up and our blankets stowed under cover, John went out to hunt and
killed a deer within two hundred yards of the camp. When we were at
the camp-fire in Sum Dum Bay, one of the prospectors, replying to Mr.
Young's complaint that they were oftentimes out of meat, asked
Toyatte why he and his men did not shoot plenty of ducks for the
minister. "Because the duck's friend would not let us," said Toyatte;
"when we want to shoot, Mr. Muir always shakes the canoe."
Just as we were passing the south headland of Port Houghton Bay, we
heard a shout, and a few minutes later saw four Indians in a canoe
paddling rapidly after us.
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