driven into the 
meadow. On the 
second trip we 
met two Indians, 
travelling to Fort 
Albany, who, like 
true Job’s com- 
forters told us 
that we were not 
yet half way to 
our destination 
and that. the 
worst part of the 
trip lay before us. 
We did not be- 
lieve them for it 
seemed to us we 
must be close to 
the Moose River, 
but subsequent 
events proved 
that they were 
right. 
The travelling 
along this part 
of the Bay was 
very pleasant. The weather continued 
fair, the breeze blew steadily from the 
north so that we could sail during the 
day, the water was deeper off shore, 
and instead of looking like pea soup 
was actually blue. When we ran in 
shore we found attractive beaches and 
good camp grounds. Along the beach 
above the high water-mark were scores 
of caribou and wolf tracks, but we did 
not see the animals themselves. At 
night I slept in the canoe two hundred 
yards out to avoid the mosquitoes, the 
Captain and Tom spread out their 
blankets under mosquito-bars on shore. 
When I heard the tide coming in I 
would shout to awaken them in time 
to roll up their blankets and run for 
the canoe. 
UT one night the tide crept in so 
quietly that I was myself aroused 
only by the tugging of the canoe on 
the anchor rope, so the Captain and 
Tom had to come splashing out through 
the water alternatenly cursing the tide 
and me for not getting them up sooner. 
After two days of delightful travel 
we said good-bye to the sand beach and 
renewed our acquaintance with the mud 
flat. Our map showed a sharp turn of 
the coast to the south, a few miles from 
the Moose River, so at each bend of 
the shore our hopes of being near our 
destination were raised, only to be 
dashed to pieces when, a few miles 
further on, the shore line again swung 
to the east. In addition to these dis- 
appointments, we were constantly de- 
ceived by mirages of a shore-line on the 
east, narrowing down to a river mouth, 
and as these visions faded away one 
by one we found ourselves wondering 
if there really was any Moose River, 
and if we were not destined to travel 
forever along this uninhabited shore. 
UT on the afternoon of the seventh 
day, as we stopped for lunch, the 
Captain picked up an empty condensed 
milk can which had been washed ashore 
by the waves. That could only mean 

Conjuror’s Falls on the Missinaibe 
Page 523 

while the Indian settlements are squalid and unkempt 
that we were nearing the mouth of the 
river. The sailors of Columbus could 
not have been more elated over the 
discovery of the paddle than we were 
over that rusty milk can. When the 
tide came in we put on extra speed. 
About six o’clock we spied the opposite 
shore and soon were toiling past the 
islands in the mouth of the river. 
WE had to buck a strong current, a 
stiff wind had come up from the 
south, it was beginning to rain, and no 
camp ground was yet in sight. But 
what did we care? At last we were in 
the Moose River near familiar ground, 
and could have all the water we wanted 
to drink. Just at dark we camped ona 
wet, boggy meadow, the first available 
spot, and celebrated our arrival by a 
huge bonfire and a grand jollification. 
When we awoke the next morning it 
was seven o’clock. The sun was shin- 
ing again, so, happy as larks, we 
paddled leisurely up the river, reaching 
the Factory about ten o’clock. There 
our friends Mr. and Mrs. Neil wel- 
comed us royally, giving us a good feed 
of moose meat, homemade bread, and 
fresh vegetables from the garden. 
OOSE FACTORY is a most at- 
tractive spot, full of historic in- 
terest. It was established in 1674 and 
is, next to Rupert House, the oldest 
post on the Continent. We should have 
liked to spend several days there re- 
newing acquaintances, but as time was 
short on account of the delay at Pagua 
and on the Bay, we felt obliged to 
start the next morning. 
At nine o’clock we headed up the river 
on the incoming tide in order to have 
the advantage of several miles of slack 
