CHAP. ii. 



THE FIRST ENCAMPMENT ON THE MOLS1E. 



or stupid indifference to all the chances and changes of 

 this world. 



Before Louis started with me, he asked for fifteen dollars. 

 I gave them to him, and was not surprised to learn that 

 he sent them to his wife as a peace-offering. She accepted 

 the money, but returned no answer, nor did she appear 

 to be in the least degree softened by this well-meant 

 attempt at reconciliation. 



Our first camp on the Moisie was not more than six 

 miles from the mouth of the river. Part of the low point 

 of land where the tents were erected was covered with 

 water during the high spring tides. The banks, about 

 sixty feet high, were uniformly wooded with spruce and 

 birch as far as our camp ; but here, by the washing of the 

 river, they had become wholly denuded of trees, and were 

 composed of incoherent sand resting on ash-coloured clay. 

 The forest of the level plain, which extends some ten or 

 twelve miles back from the coast, consisted of spruce, 

 larch, and birch, some of the trees being of considerable 

 size and well fitted for building purposes. 



Just as the canoe was about to start back to the station 

 to fetch the flour, which I was anxious to obtain to replace 

 the wetted biscuit, Louis came to me with a desponding 

 look, and said he had forgotten his blanket - 'Would I let 

 him go in the canoe and fetch it ? ' But Louis was not to 

 be trusted so near home. He might repent having come, 

 as Indians often do during the first day or two ; I there- 

 fore told the other men, whom I could trust, to bring 

 Louis' blanket with them. Louis gave them very indefi- 

 nite and confused directions where to find his blanket, 

 and I am still under the impression that the article in 



