ON THE GANDER RIVER. 211 



For the next five days we rowed against a very 

 heavy stream, for in the September of 1906 the river 

 was at least a couple of feet higher than is usual at that 

 season. There were two or three small rapids, but 

 nothing to give us much trouble, until we reached 

 Rolling Falls, where a portage became necessary. 

 Here, in the soft sand, we found the trail of a party of 

 four hunters who had left Glenwood the previous week. 

 Their presence ahead of course destroyed our chance of 

 seeing many deer, as by the tracks it seemed that two 

 of the party always walked along the bank, and even 

 days' old footsteps serve to turn any deer that cross 

 them. Indeed, for many days we saw but one caribou, 

 a doe, which appeared as we were passing the shores of 

 Birchy Island. 



Bob Saunders alone of our party had any knowledge 

 of the Gander. He told us that on his previous trips 

 up the river stags were almost always to be found, their 

 haunts being on the sandy shores and on the sand 

 banks in the river-bed. But now, owing to the height 

 of the water, there was no sand to be seen anywhere, 

 and our only chance lay in coming upon a stag actually 

 crossing the stream. The volume of water drew from 

 Saunders one of his characteristic remarks : " If this be 

 the tail of the Gander, I wonder what it'll be like 

 when we comes to the beel of he ! " 



He was a cheery old fellow, never disheartened and 

 full of quaint talk. His system of therapeutics was 

 queer and simple, but perhaps not to be recommended 

 for general use. For instance, as a boy, when not 

 feeling very well he was, he told us, in the habit 

 of dosing himself with gunpowder. When gently 

 admonished, he assured those in authority that they 



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