ACROSS THE ST. LAWRENCE 243 



it was now clear right up to the shore at Ste. Anne 

 Point, which was the nearest land, about one and 

 a quarter mile distant. We were so tired that the 

 paddling of this short distance occupied nearly an 

 hour and we landed just as darkness came on. 



To try and attract the attention of the people 

 on shore I had fired ten or twelve shots as we ap- 

 proached and although they were heard, no at- 

 tention had been paid to them, as the shooting 

 was supposed to come from some of the shore peo- 

 ple. 



It felt good to step on land again. My brother 

 was very cold, perfectly chilled by sitting in the 

 canoe, where I could not give him much attention, 

 having to paddle and steer. His hands, face and 

 feet were badly frost-bitten, and the Labrie broth- 

 ers had their faces and hands frozen. 



We had landed opposite a farm house occupied 

 by Mrs. G. Tanguay and her three children, two 

 young girls and a boy the eldest of the family 

 about 12 years old. The little chap, happening to 

 be playing in the road, saw us landing, and I also 

 got a glimpse of him as he ran away. Rushing 

 into the house he told his mother that four drunk- 

 en Indians were coming up to the house. He had 

 seen me with my fringed buckskin coat helping 

 my brother up and the two Labries staggering 

 behind us. It was no wonder that he thought we 

 were drunk! Reaching the door I knocked and 

 received no answer. The light had been put out 



