14 THE ARCTIC PRAIRIES 



On the night of May 20, we camped just above 

 Grand Rapids Preble and I alone, for the first time, 

 under canvas, and glad indeed to get away from the 

 noisy rabble of the boatmen, though now they were 

 but a quarter mile off. At first I had found them 

 amusing and picturesque, but their many unpleasant 

 habits, their distinct aversion to strangers, their greedi- 

 ness to get all they could out of one, and do nothing in 

 return, combined finally with their habit of gambling 

 all night to the loud beating of a tin pan, made me 

 thankful to quit their company for a time. 



At Grand Rapids the scows were unloaded, the 

 goods shipped over a quarter-mile hand tramway, on 

 an island, the scows taken down a side channel, one 

 by one, and reloaded. This meant a delay of three 

 or four days, during which we camped on the island 

 and gathered specimens. 



Being the organizer, equipper, geographer, artist, 

 head, and tail of the expedition, I was, perforce, also 

 its doctor. Equipped with a "pill-kit," an abundance 

 of blisters and bandages and some "potent purgatives," 

 I had prepared myself to render first and last aid to the 

 hurt in my own party. In taking instructions from our 

 family physician, I had learned the value of a profound 

 air of great gravity, a noble reticence, and a total ab- 

 sence of doubt, when I did speak. I compressed his 

 creed into a single phrase: "In case of doubt, look wise 

 and work on his ' bowels/ '' This simple equipment soon 

 gave me a surprisingly high standing among the men. 

 I was a medicine man of repute, and soon had a larger 

 practice than I desired, as it was entirely gratuitous. 



