It was late in the night
before our clothes, blankets, and tents were dry, but, like boys, we
forgot it all.
Then came a river--blue and flat like the sky above--running through
rushy banks, backed by the masses of the forest; anon the waters rushed
upon us over the rocks, and we fought, plunk-plunk-plunk, with the
paddles, until our strength gave out. We stepped out into the water, and
getting our lines, and using our long double blades as fenders,
"tracked" the canoes up through the boil. The Indians in their heavier
boats used "setting-poles" with marvellous dexterity, and by furious
exertion were able to draw steadily up the grade--though at times they
too "tracked," and even portaged. Our largest canoe weighed two hundred
pounds, but a little voyager managed to lug it, though how I couldn't
comprehend, since his pipe-stem legs fairly bent and wobbled under the
enormous ark. None of us by this time were able to lift the loads which
we carried, but, like a Western pack-mule, we stood about and had things
piled on to us, until nothing more would stick. Some of the backwoodsmen
carry incredible masses of stuff, and their lore is full of tales which
no one could be expected to believe. Our men did not hesitate to take
two hundred and fifty pounds over short portages, which were very rough
and stony, though they all said if they slipped they expected to break a
leg. This is largely due to the tump-line, which is laid over the head,
while persons unused to it must have shoulder-straps in addition, which
are not as good, because the "breastbone," so called, is not strong
enough.
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