Always these have been
beautiful to me, with a mysterious kind of beauty which sends
through me feelings akin to those I had when as a child I dreamed
over the wonderful pictures the Frost King left in the night on the
window panes. The river ahead was too rough to proceed along the
south shore, and the men decided to cross. It was very fearsome
looking. Through a narrow opening in the hills farther up, the
river came pouring from between dark, perpendicular walls of the
evergreen in a white, tossing rapid, widening again to one only
less turbulent. A heavy cloud hung over us, throwing a deeper
shade on the hills and turning the water black save for the white
foam of the rapids, while down the narrow valley came a gale of hot
wind like a blast from a furnace. We turned out into the river,
and all paddled as if for life. The canoe danced among the swells,
but in spite of our best efforts the rapid carried us swiftly down.
It was a wild ride, though we reached the other shore in safety,
and looking up the river I wondered what might be in store for us
beyond that narrow gateway. When we passed it would the beyond
prove as much like Hades as this was suggestive of it? It seemed
as if there we must find ourselves within the mysteries.
After we landed, George turned, and in mildly approving tone said:
"I have seen lots of men who would jump out of the canoe if we
tried to take them where you have been just now."
Job's quick eye had seen that the canoes could be taken through the
narrows on the north shore. And when this part of the river was
passed all suggestion of Hades vanished. There stretched before us
Mountain Cat Lake, for beauty, a gem in its setting of hills. It
was half a mile wide and two miles long. In the lower part were
two small wooded islands, but the upper part was clear. Long
spruce covered points reached out into its waters, which still
flowed so swiftly that instead of paddling we poled along the
shore. It was camping time when we reached the head of the lake,
where the river comes down round a fine gravel point in a decided
rapid.
George remarked: "That would be a fine place for Sunday camp."
"Then why not camp there?" I asked.
"Oh, no," he replied emphatically; "that would not do at all.
There would be no Sunday rest for me. I'd have to be watching you
all the time to keep you away from that rapid."
A little way up the river we came to another point which seemed
even finer than the one at the head of the lake, and on this we
made our Sunday camp. There was no noisy rapid here. On the
opposite shore a long wooded hill sloped down to a point a mile
above camp, round which the river came from the west. The sun was
almost touching the hill-top, and below were low, gravel flats
covered with fresh spring green and cut by little waterways, still
as glass, and reflecting the sunset colours. In the river above us
were small wooded islands, and away beyond them the blue ridges.
It would have been beautiful at any time, but now in the calm
evening, with the sunset light upon it, it was peculiarly so, and
seemed in a special way to accord with the thought of the Sabbath
rest. There was not a word spoken in reference to it, but about
the men and in the way they did their work was something which made
you feel how glad they were a resting time had come.
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.
