because the ravens build their nests on its rocky top, and, perched
high up, croak at you warningly from afar. Always the ravens are
there. Involuntarily, as one croaked above our heads, "Nevermore"
echoed through my mind. "And my soul from out that shadow shall be
lifted nevermore." There were dark shadows ahead of us among the
rocks and the forests, and--But in a moment the thought was drowned
and forgotten in the beauties of the scenery. Beauties?--yes; for
bleak and desolate Labrador has a beauty and a charm all its own.

Two hours after passing Cape Corbeau the rain began to pour, and at
7.30 o'clock, when we made camp on the south shore, we were well
soaked. We resumed our journey at 5.30 in the morning. A stiff
breeze was blowing, but by keeping in the lee of the shore we made
good progress. At ten o'clock, when we found it necessary to cross
to the north shore so as to shorten the distance, there was a
rising sea, and we had to lighten the canoe and ferry the cargo
over in two loads.

It was soon after one o'clock that we reached the upper end of the
lake, where we found a stream about 125 yards wide that flowed with
a swift current from out a little lake. Into this lake after
luncheon we paddled, and when we reached its upper end, there was
the mouth of a river, which we immediately hailed as the Nascaupee,
the stream that was to lead us up to Lake Michikamau. Its mouth
was wide, and it seemed to answer so well all the descriptions we
had heard of the river for which we were searching that the
possibility of our being mistaken never once entered our heads; in
fact, we remained under the impression that it was the Nascaupee
until the last.