A LABRADOR SPRING 
Kneeling in the bottom at the paddles were two 
Indians, one an old man with a scanty beard, 
the other a beardless youth. They came on 
board and shook hands, exchanged a few unin- 
telligible words with our men and departed as 
silently as they came. 
The Indians that I saw in canoes on the coast 
always kneeled and did not sit up on the 
thwarts as their white brothers often do. At 
Mingan one Indian refused to take me in his 
canoe unless I sat in the bottom and did not 
paddle. To escape that ignominy I kneeled at 
the bow paddle in the canoe of another Indian, 
but when I could bear the position no longer, 
and my knees were almost paralyzed, I made 
bold to raise myself to a sitting position on a 
basket and continued to paddle. My friend, 
who was sitting facing the Indian in the stern, 
said that his countenance expressed the utmost 
anxiety at this move on my part, and that drops 
of perspiration stood out on his brow. And I do 
not blame him, for he did not know, and I could 
not tell him whether I had ever been in a canoe 
before or not, and he probably was unable to 
swim. 
That evening Martial told us of his trip on 
120 
