Lake it was too rough to venture on, and we had to go
into camp.
I felt rather desperate that night, and sick with disappointment.
One week of precious time was gone, it was the 16th of the month,
and we were only thirty miles, perhaps a little more, from the
Height of Land. How was it possible to reach the post in time for
the ship now?
"We will get you there about two days before the ship arrives,"
George insisted.
"When we get down below the lakes we can make forty miles a day if
the weather is good," said Joe.
But I was not reassured. When we should get down below the lakes
we could travel fast perhaps; but the last one, Indian House Lake,
where the old Hudson's Bay Company post had been, was still far,
far north of us, and no one knew what lay between. Perhaps there
was a bare possibility that we might make the journey in ten days;
but I knew I could not count on it. Had I a right to undertake the
return journey with its perils? I was not sure.
My tent was sweet that night with the fragrance of its carpet of
balsam boughs, and a big bunch of twin flowers, which grew in
profusion there; but it was late before I slept. Perhaps two hours
after I awoke to find a big moon peering into my face through the
open front of my tent.
I was startled at first, and instinctively reached for my revolver,
not knowing what it was; but when full consciousness had returned,
whether it was the effect of the moon or not, the question had
somehow been settled. I knew I should go on to Ungava whatever the
consequences might be.
CHAPTER XV
THE MONTAGNAIS INDIANS
The night was very still when I awoke, but it was cold. Frost
sparkled in the moonlight on willows and low growth, and when at
first sign of dawn I reached for my stockings and duffel to put
them on, they were frozen stiff. I did not wait to hunt out dry
ones, but slipped them on for I was too anxious to be on the march
again. I meant to go on to Ungava now, no matter what befell;
_perhaps_ we could yet be in time for the ship. She might be
delayed.
The men were astir early, and at a quarter to six we were off.
Already the lake was almost too rough again to go forward. The
wind had risen, and blew cold across the water driving the morning
mists before it. Now and then they lifted a little, giving a
glimpse of the farther shore, or parted overhead where a patch of
deep blue could be seen.
