NEWFOUNDLAND IN THE 'SEVENTIES 217 



we replied, " we don't exactly know where we are 

 going to, but we are looking for the ' portage.' 

 Is it anywhere near here ? " " Yes," said he, 

 " close handy, just a little ways up the stream. 

 Water very low, ain't it ? Plenty rain pretty soon, 

 and then have good water in the brook. You 

 going hunting, I guess ? Not much good, deer all 

 gone. You wait, by and by we get through hunt- 

 ing ; mebbe one of my sons show you where to 

 find plenty. Mebbe I go with you myself," added 

 the old man, with an air that seemed to say, 

 " There, just think of that : there's a chance you 

 don't get every day of the week." We camped that 

 night on the portage, and the next day " carried " 

 over to a neighbouring lake in a drenching rain, 

 and pitched our tent close to the camp of the 

 patriarch and certain other members of the Joe 

 family. The old man's prophecy of " plenty rain 

 come soon " was abundantly fulfilled during the 

 next three days, for it rained and blew, and blew 

 and rained, the whole time without ceasing. The 

 natives did not seem to mind it in the least, but 

 lounged about in the wet as unconcernedly as if 

 water was their natural element. I remember 

 going over to old Joe's tent one morning for some- 

 thing or other, and finding a little French boy thait 



