264 
FOREST AND STREAM 
eastward of Meelpaeg Lake, which we came into 
from the west, but we knew of no one who had 
crossed the more than 200 miles in the center of 
the Island where we planned to go through. Our 
men were keen to tackle the country, and we 
felt it would make a better vacation than the 
usual autumn hunt. We also had dreams of 
some big heads in the undisturbed country. 
The next morning, the air fairly sparkled, the 
blue sky broken by drifting clouds. It was nine 
o’clock before we got into the canoes as all hands 
were not yet accustomed to the many chores 
that are necessary in breaking camp. The half 
a gale of head wind from the west and heavy 
current made progress slow and together with 
a number of bad rips, it was 12:30 before we 
reached the mouth of Noel Pauls Brook, com¬ 
ing in from the south, where we had lunch. This 
is a fine broad stream, but so shallow that the 
boats had to be waded. Bolling and I took our 
rifles and walked along the top of the high bank 
while the men worked the boats up stream, parr 
of the time wading and part of the time under 
the pole. We saw lots of open country and red 
fox. About 4:30, the stream or river became 
very rough, and we came down into it to help 
with the canoes. The current was strong rather 
than heavy, the water from six inches to waist 
deep, the bottom full of holes and covered with 
large, round and very slippe'y stones. 
Canvas sneakers or moccasins, having soft 
soles, are not satisfactory for this work. The 
feet are pinched and stubbed among the large 
rocks. A stiff sole with holes in the uppers to 
let the water out is the best rig. Camped at 
the first falls, which was a small one over broken 
ledges and about three miles above the mouth 
of the brook where we had lunch. Waiting for 
us at the falls, was old John Paub a Micmac 
Indian, and his sixteen-year old son, who had 
been sent to this place by the Lumber Company 
to accompany us as fire warden until we got off 
their land. He was said to know more about 
the country than anyone, and was therefore a 
welcome addition. 
At sunset, Bolling and I had a fine bath in 
the smooth rain-filled rock pools on the ledges 
where the water had been warmed by the sun. 
The pools were about the size of bath tubs, and 
there being half a dozen of them, we enjoyed a 
rare luxury of soaping in one tub and rinsing 
in another. 
The following morning gorgeous. To lighten 
the canoes, which had to be poled up 
rather stiff rapids, Bolling and I traveled 
ashore, first across a smooth barren, but 
soon the timber beginning, we found the best 
going along the edge of the stream. Part of 
the way there was a good game trail, and we 
saw a doe that was not at all afraid until we 
were within a few yards of her, when she trot¬ 
ted off, and just as we stopped for the night, 
saw a stag of 24 or 25 points. 
Rain began before daylight, and we had break¬ 
fast in a downpour. Were off at nine, and in 
an hour, reached the falls. “Carried around.” 
Some heavy water for next three-quarters of a 
mile to a second falls. Here we were able to 
drag the canoes up a turbulent sort of sluice¬ 
way among the boulders. Once above this bad 
water, we struck Noel Paul’s Steady, a beauti¬ 
ful waterway like a long and narrow lake, with 
scarcely any current, but flowing strong and 
smooth where it narrowed. 
The rain had ceased, and we had lunch on a 
pretty point looking up the Steady. Seeing a 
large stag on a point opposite, Bolling tried to 
get a look at him through the glasses to see just 
how big a head he had, but before he could do 
this, the stag went into the alders. After the 
down-pour of rain all morning, it was a gor¬ 
geous afternoon, paddling up the nine or ten 
miles of Steady, the western sky like pearl 
against gray clouds. A strong current develop¬ 
ed at the upper end of the Steady" and a bit of 
bad water. Rounding a bend, we came upon a 
high falls with very heavy water that the old 
Indian, John Paul, did not know was there. In 
this series of falls there was a drop of more 
than one hundred feet in a quarter of a mile. 
The next morning, we were hard at work cut¬ 
ting out a short half-mile portage on the south¬ 
erly side of the falls. Packed the outfit over 
and had a short stretch of Stillwater, when we 
came to another small falls over which the boats 
had to be dragged. Short stretches of smooth 
water and several rips, but nothing bad. Just 
as we were stopping for lunch, Bolling saw a 
stag of 24 points on the opposite shore a hun¬ 
dred yards or so ahead, and as I had never shot 
a caribou, he insisted that I should go over and 
get him. He was feeding in and out of the 
edge of the alders, and allowed John and me 
to get within fifty yards. It was like shooting 
a cow in a barn-yard. The liver we ate at lunch 
as it was less tough than the rest of the meat, 
from being so fresh. At this stage of the jour¬ 
ney, we had such entire faith in our food supply 
that the addition of fresh meat was merely an 
incident and not an event of much importance 
as it would have been later. We put most of 
the meat, including the horns, in the canoes. 
After lunch, a continuation of rather hard 
work with pole and paddle until 4:30, when we 
came through some pretty bad rapids, rounded 
a bend and found another big falls above which 
was a gorge half a mile long, filled with very 
heavy rapids. As our Indian, who was said to 
know more about the country than anyone else, 
had never heard of these falls and we were no 
doubt beyond the land claimed by the Lumber 
Company, we were well into the country and 
only a few days’ journey from the watershed, 
on the other side of which we hoped to find 
streams running south through which to work 
our way to the coast. Working up to the head 
of the gorge, one of the men climbed a tree and 
reported the country ahead as fairly flat, which 
was interpreted as a good sign. 
The following morning was cloudy, but no 
rain. Crossing just below these falls, we un¬ 
loaded the canoes, carried the stuff about one 
hundred yards and lifted the canoes up over the 
edge of the falls. Tow lines, sixty feet long, 
were attached to the bow of each canoe, the 
loads securely stowed and all hands set to work 
to drag them up through the gorge, down which 
the water was rushing in a stream 200 feet wide 
and mostly white. The sides of the gorge in 
many places were perpendicular rock twenty- 
five feet high; sometimes a ledge of a few 
inches in width would enable us, with the aid of 
i 
