Etext produced by Martin SchubTHE LONG LABRADOR TRAILbyDILLON WALLACEAuthor of The Lure of the Labrador Wild etcIllustratedMCMXVII             TO THE       MEMORY OF MY WIFE  A drear and desolate shore  Where no tree unfolds its leaves  And never the spring wind weaves  Green grass for the hunters tread  A land forsaken and dead  Where the ghostly icebergs go  And come with the ebb and flow  Whittiers The Rocktomb of BradorePREFACEIn the summer of 1903 when Leonidas Hubbard Jr went to Labrador toexplore a section of the unknown interior it was my privilege toaccompany him as his companion and friend  The world has heard of thedisastrous ending of our little expedition and how Hubbard fightingbravely and heroically to the last finally succumbed to starvationBefore his death I gave him my promise that should I survive I wouldwrite and publish the story of the journey  In The Lure of TheLabrador Wild that pledge was kept to the best of my abilityWhile Hubbard and I were struggling inland over those desolate wasteswhere life was always uncertain we entered into a compact that incase one of us fall the other would carry to completion theexploratory work that he had planned and begun  Providence willedthat it should become my duty to fulfil this compact and thefollowing pages are a record of how it was doneNot I but Hubbard planned the journey of which this book tells andfrom him I received the inspiration and with him the training andexperience that enabled me to succeed  It was his spirit that led meon over the wearisome trails and through the rushing rapids and tohim and to his memory belong the credit and the honor of successD WFebruary 1907CONTENTSCHAPTER    I THE VOICE OF THE WILDERNESS   II ON THE THRESHOLD OF THE UNKNOWN  III THE LAST OF CIVILIZATION  IV  ON THE OLD INDIAN TRAIL   V  WE GO ASTRAY  VI  LAKE NIPISHISH IS REACHED VII  SCOUTING FOR THE TRAILVIII  SEAL LAKE AT LAST  IX  WE LOSE THE TRAIL  X   WE SEE MICHIKAMAU XI   THE PARTING AT MICHIKAMAU XII  OVER THE NORTHERN DIVIDEXIII  DISASTER IN THE RAPIDSXIV   TIDE WATER AND THE POST XV   OFF WITH THE ESKIMOSXVI   CAUGHT BY THE ARCTIC ICEXVII  TO WHALE RIVER AND FORT CHIMOXVIII THE INDIANS OF THE NORTHXIX   THE ESKIMOS OF LABRADORXX    THE SLEDGE JOURNEY BEGUNXXI   CROSSING THE BARRENSXXII  ON THE ATLANTIC ICEXXIII BACK TO NORTHWEST RIVERXXIV  THE END OF THE LONG TRAIL      APPENDIXILLUSTRATIONSThe Perils of the Rapids in color from a painting by Oliver KempIce Encountered Off the Labrador CoastThe Time For Action Had ComeCamp Was Moved to the First Small LakeWe Found a Longdisused Log Cache of the IndiansBelow Lake NipishishThrough Ponds and Marshes Northward Toward Otter LakeWe Shall Call the River BabewendigashPete Standing by the Prostrate Caribou Was Grinning From Ear to EarA Network of Lakes and the Country as Level as a TableMichikamauWriting Letters to the Home FolksOur Lonely Perilous Journey Toward the Dismal Wastes Was BegunAbandoned Indian Camp On the Shore of Lake MichikamatsOne of the Wigwams Was a Large One and Oblong in ShapeAt Last We Saw the PostA Miserable Little Log ShackA Group of Eskimo WomenA Labrador TypeEskimo ChildrenA Snow IglooThe Silence of the North in color from a painting by Frederic C StokesNachvak Post of the Hudsons Bay CompanyThe Hills Grew Higher and HigherWe Turned Into a Pass Leading to the NorthwardThe Moravian Mission at RamahPlodding Southward Over the Endless SnowNain the Moravian Headquarters in LabradorThe Indians Were HereGeological SpecimensMapsCHAPTER ITHE VOICE OF THE WILDERNESSIts always the way Wallace  When a fellow starts on the longtrail hes never willing to quit  Itll be the same with you if yougo with me to Labrador  When you come home youll hear the voice ofthe wilderness calling you to return and it will lure you backagainIt seems but yesterday that Hubbard uttered those prophetic words ashe and I lay before our blazing camp fire in the snowcoveredShawangunk Mountains on that November night in the year 1901 andplanned that fateful trip into the unexplored Labrador wildernesswhich was to cost my dear friend his life and both of usindescribable sufferings and hardships  And how true a prophecy itwas  You who have smelled the camp fire smoke who have drunk in thepure forest air laden with the smell of the fir tree who have dippedyour paddle into untamed waters or climbed mountains with theknowledge that none but the red man has been there before you orhave perchance had to fight the wilds and nature for your veryexistence you of the wilderness brotherhood can understand how thefever of exploration gets into ones blood and draws one back again tothe forests and the barrens in spite of resolutions to go no moreIt was more than this however that lured me back to Labrador  Therewas the vision of dear old Hubbard as I so often saw him during ourstruggle through that rugged northland wilderness wasted in form andragged in dress but always hopeful and eager his undying spirit andindomitable will focused in his words to me and I can still see himas he looked when he said themThe work must be done Wallace and if one of us falls before it iscompleted the other must finish itI went back to Labrador to do the work he had undertaken but which hewas not permitted to accomplish  His exhortation appealed to me as acommand from my leadera call to dutyHubbard had planned to penetrate the Labrador peninsula from GroswaterBay following the old northern trail of the Mountaineer Indians fromNorthwest River Post of the Hudsons Bay Company situated onGroswater Bay one