Beyond this point our progress was slow and difficult. There were
days when we made less than two miles, and these were the
discouraging days for me, because there was ever hanging over me
the thought of the necessity of reaching Ungava by the last week in
August--if I meant to catch the ship there. However, by poling and
tracking, by lifting and dragging the canoe through the shallow
waters near the shore, or again by carrying the entire outfit over
the sand-hills or across boulder-strewn valleys, we won gradually
forward.

It frightened me often to see the men take their packs where they
did. Sometimes it was over a great bed of boulders, where the
reindeer moss was growing. This moss is a delicate grey-green
colour, exquisitely beautiful in form as well, and as a background
for the dark spruces is wonderfully effective. We found it growing
luxuriantly almost everywhere, except in the burned districts, and
in places it is six inches in height. When dry, it is brittle, and
may be crumbled to powder in the hands, but when wet is very much
the consistency of jelly, and just as slippery. Through the wooded
land the soil appeared to be simply a tangle of fallen and decayed
tree-trunks grown over with thick moss of another variety, in which
you sank ankle deep, while dark perilous looking holes yawned on
every side, making you feel that if once you went in you might
never appear again. Sometimes our way led along a fine bear trail
on a sandy terrace where the wood growth was small and scattered,
and where the walking was smooth, and even as that of a city
street, but much softer and pleasanter. There were many bear
trails through this lower Nascaupee country, though we did not
again see any bears, and one might actually think the trails had