304 THE DRAMA OF THE FORESTS 



The men were weary. Last night they had danced both hard 

 and long, with dusky maids — as all true voyageurs do on the 

 eve of their departure. To voyageurs stern winds are blessings. 

 Mile after mile the wild flotilla swept along. Sunshine danced 

 upon the rippling waves that gurgled and lapped as the bows 

 overreached them. Rugged islands of moss-covered rock 

 and evergreen trees rose on every side. The wind favoured us 

 for about five miles, then shifted. Reluctantly the sails were 

 let down, and masts and booms tossed overboard. At four 

 o'clock the brigade landed on a pretty island, and a hurried 

 afternoon tea was taken; after which we again paddled on, and 

 at sundown halted to pitch camp for the night. 



CAMP OF THE FUR BRIGADE 



The canoes — held off shore so as not to damage them by 

 touching the beach — were unloaded by men wading in the 

 water. The fur packs were neatly piled and covered with 

 tarpaulins. Then the canoes were lifted off the water, and 

 carried ashore, and turned upside-down for the night. Tents 

 were erected and campfires lit. Upon a thick carpet of ever- 

 green brush the blankets were spread in the tents. The tired 

 men sat in the smoke at the fires and ate their suppers round 

 which black flies and mosquitoes hovered. 



Canadian voyageurs, being well used to both fasting and 

 feasting, display great appetites when savoury food is plentiful, 

 and though I have seen much feasting and heard astonishing 

 tales of great eating, I feel I cannot do better than quote the 

 following, as told by Charles Mair, one of the co-authors of 

 that reliable book "Through the Mackenzie Rasin": 



"I have already hinted at those masterpieces of voracity for 

 which the region is renowned; yet the undoubted facts related 

 around our campfires, and otherwise, a few of which follow, 

 almost beggar belief. Mr. Young, of our party, an old Hud- 



