At first he did not seem able to get up, but when George, on reaching the canoe, turned it right side up, and to the utter astonishment of every one, it appeared that nearly the whole load was still in it—­the sight revived Job.  He got up and came ashore to the canoe, which was found still to contain the two tents, one rifle, my fishing-rod, the sextant, and artificial horizon, a box of baking-powder, a box of chocolate, my sweater, three of the men’s coats, and one tarpaulin.  It seemed nothing less than miraculous, for the little craft had been bottom up for several minutes.  During the reckoning Job heartened rapidly, and was soon making a joke of the experience, though this did not hide the fact that he had been well shaken up.

For a time thankfulness at the escape of the men, and that so much of the outfit had been saved, made me oblivious of everything else.  Then gradually it came to the minds of the men what was missing, but it was some time before the list was complete, and I knew that we had lost all the axes, all the frying-pans, all the extra pole-shods, one pole, one paddle, the crooked knife, two pack-straps, one sponge, one tarpaulin, my stove, and Job’s hat and pipe.  The loss of the axes and the pole-shods was the most serious result of the accident, and I wondered how much that would mean, but had not the courage to ask the question.  I feared the men would think they could not go on without the axes.

Soon they began to upbraid themselves for putting both tents and all the axes into the same canoe; but there was no mention made of turning back.  All seemed only thankful that no lives were lost.  While Job and Joe were changing their wet clothing, George and Gilbert, as quickly as possible, prepared lunch.  Job, however, was very quiet during the meal, and ate almost nothing.  Later, however, I could bear George and Joe in fits of laughter.  Job was entertaining them with an account of his visit to the fishes.  According to his story, he had a most wonderful time down there.

CHAPTER V

TO THE BEND OF THE RRVER

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.