A LABRADOR SPRING 



Kneeling in the bottom at the paddles were two 

 Indians, one an old man with a scanty beard, 

 the other a beardless youth. They came on 

 board and shook hands, exchanged a few unin- 

 telligible words with our men and departed as 

 silently as they came. 



The Indians that I saw in canoes on the coast 

 always kneeled and did not sit up on the 

 thwarts as their white brothers often do. At 

 Mingan one Indian refused to take me in his 

 canoe unless I sat in the bottom and did not 

 paddle. To escape that ignominy I kneeled at 

 the bow paddle in the canoe of another Indian, 

 but when I could bear the position no longer, 

 and my knees were almost paralyzed, I made 

 bold to raise myself to a sitting position on a 

 basket and continued to paddle. My friend, 

 who was sitting facing the Indian in the stern, 

 said that his countenance expressed the utmost 

 anxiety at this move on my part, and that drops 

 of perspiration stood out on his brow. And I do 

 not blame him, for he did not know, and I could 

 not tell him whether I had ever been in a canoe 

 before or not, and he probably was unable to 

 swim. 



That evening Martial told us of his trip on 

 120 



