become infrequent and the other natives were afraid to
venture far inland. Hubbard then engaged through the kind offices of
Mr. S. A. King, who was in charge of the Hudson's Bay Company Post at
Missanabie, Ontario, the services of a Cree Indian named Jerry, that we
might have at least one man upon whom we could depend. Jerry was to
have come on to New York City to meet us. At next to the last moment,
however, a letter from Mr. King informed us that Jerry had backed down.
The Indian was not afraid of Labrador, it appeared, but he had heard of
the dangers and pitfalls of New York, and when he learned that he
should have to pass through that city, his courage failed him; he
positively refused to come, saying he did not "want to die so soon."

We never had occasion to regret Jerry's faint-heartedness. Mr. King
engaged for us another man who, he wrote, was an expert canoeman and
woodsman and a good cook. The man proved to be all that he was
represented to be--and more. I do not believe that in all the north
country we could have found a better woodsman. But he was something
more than a woodsman--he was a hero. Under the most trying
circumstances he was calm, cheerful, companionable, faithful. Not only
did he turn out to be a man of intelligence, quick of perception and
resourceful, but he turned out to be a man of character, and I am proud
to introduce him to the reader as my friend George Elson, a half-breed
Cree Indian from down on James Bay.

The first instance of George's resourcefulness that we noted occurred
upon his arrival in New York. Hubbard and I were to have taken him in
charge at the Grand Central Station, but we were detained and George
found no one to meet him. Despite the fact that he had never been in a
city before, and all was new to him, his quick eye discovered that the
long line of cabs in front of the station were there to hire. He
promptly engaged one, was driven to Hubbard's office and awaited his
employer's arrival as calm and unruffled as though his surroundings
were perfectly familiar.

Our canoe and our entire outfit were purchased in New York, with the
exception of a gill net, which, alas! we decided to defer selecting
until we reached Labrador. Our preparations for the expedition were
made with a view of sailing from St. Johns, Newfoundland, for Rigolet,
when the steamer Virginia Lake, which regularly plies during the summer
between the former port and points on the Labrador coa