Our rivals were there, and had hired the only available boat and crew to transport them to North West River.  This threw us back on our second plan, viz:  to take our party right to the mouth of the Grand River ourselves, which involved a trip inland of one hundred miles to the head of Lake Melville.  This it was decided to do, and after some delay in securing a pilot, owing to the transfer at the last moment of the affections of the first man we secured to the other party, John Blake came aboard and we started on our new experience in inland navigation.  Just as we entered the narrows, after a stop at John’s house to tell his wife where we were taking him, and to give her some medicine and advice from the doctor, we saw our rivals starting in the boat they had secured.  That was the last we saw of them, till they reached North West River, two days after our party had started up the Grand River.

North West River is the name of the Hudson Bay Co.’s post at the mouth of the river of the same name, flowing into the western extremity of Lake Melville, about fifteen miles north of the mouth of Grand River.  Hamilton Inlet proper extends about forty miles in from the Atlantic to the “Narrows,” a few miles beyond Rigolette, where Lake Melville begins.  A narrow arm of the lake extends some unexplored distance east of the Narrows, south of and parallel to the southern shore of the inlet.  The lake varies from five to forty miles in width and is ninety miles long, allowing room for an extended voyage in its capacious bosom.  The water is fresh enough to drink at the upper end of the lake, and at the time of our visit was far pleasanter and less arctic for bathing than the water off any point of the Maine coast.  About twenty miles from the Narrows a string of islands, rugged and barren, but beautiful for their very desolation, as is true of so much of Labrador, nearly block the way, but we found the channels deep and clear, and St. John’s towering peak makes an excellent guide to the most direct passage.

One night was spent under way, floating quietly on the lake, so delightfully motionless after the restless movements of Atlantic seas.  A calm and bright day following, during which the one pleasant swim in Labrador waters was taken by two of us, was varied by thunder squalls and ended in fog and drizzle, causing us to anchor off the abrupt break in the continuous ridge along the northern shore, made by the Muligatawney River.  Although in an insecure and exposed anchorage, yet the fact that we were in an inclosed lake gave a sense of security to the less experienced, that the snug and rocky harbors to which we had become accustomed, usually failed to give on account of the roaring of the surf a few hundred yards away, on the other side of the narrow barrier that protected the rocky basin.

The following day was bright and showery by turns, but the heart’s wish of our Grand River men was granted, and while the schooner lay off the shoals at the mouth of the river they were to make famous, they started as will be described, and the rest of the expedition turned towards North West River, hoping they, too, could now get down to their real work.