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. 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.
