A FIVE HUNDRED MILE FUNERAL MARCH.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2151, 28 March 1908, Page 2 (Supplement)

A FIVE HUNDRED MILE FUNERAL MARCH.

HOW TWO HEROES CONVEYED THE CORPSE OF A COMRADE ACROSS ICY, DESOLATE LABRADOR. P. T.' McGrath in London “Magazine.”) Rarely has the world been stirred in recent years over tlio misadventures in different parts of tlio globe ns it lias been over the story of bow Leonidas Hubbard starved to death in tlio wilds of Labrador in October, 190.3, and how bis two brave comrades transported his body 550 miles across that snowclad waste to its southern extremity seven monte later, whence the sealing steamer “Aurora,” Captain A. Kean,, conveyed them to St. John’s, Newfoundland.

This groat lone land —Labrador — is a peninsula, with an area equal to that of England, France, and Austria combined, and an interior almost unknown, little better so than the region about the North Polo. It is the largest. American unexplored tract. Hardly a score of white men have over visited any portion of the heart of the interior. The only human beings who dwell in Labrador aro 5,000 Eskimos, half-breeds and whites, on the. coast, and two tribes of Creo Indians, the Montaguais, or Mountaineers, who inhabit the eonth-' west, and the Nauscopees, who live ■ on tlio barren country to the far north. Comparatively few. of tho latter have ever seen a white man. They arc said to be the last Indians in North America living in absolutely primitive conditions. It was to study them and their customs that Mr Hubbard, associate-editor of the American magazine “Outing,” planned tlio expedition which was to take him 7QO miles inland. Ho was nccompSmied by bis comrade on several previous minor excursions—Dillon 'Wallace, a New York lawyer—and George Elson, a half-breed Cree from Winnipeg, who had been in the Hudson Bay Company’s service in the North-land. Tlio little party. bade adieu to civilisation at St. John’s in July, 1903, and joined tlio mail-boat there, which makes a fortnightly trip to Labrador during the brief summer months when its coast line is accessible. Their landing-place was North-West River Post, a station at the bead of Hamilton Inlet, a great watery ravine which eats into the sliore of Labrador for 150 miles, and forms the embouchure of several ’—'mighty rivers that sweep down from ■the “Height of Land,” the great.interior plateau. Their subsequent experiences were yjlirilling in the extreme. On July loth they had left North-West River, —,and on August Ist were practically Y out of provisions. They had plunged madly into the interior of an unknown country into regions never before trod by white man, with almost no provisions. Instead of 5501 b. of flour they had ,1201 b., and instead of 20001 b. of bacon or pork they had _ 251h..„...50aked to the skin nearly every day until the middle of September, theSfoften slept in wet clothes and wet-blankets. On August 3rd they killed four geese; a week later a big stag caribou; thenceforth they lived on the caribou meat dried, which was soon gone. Early in September the weather grew too cold for fish to bite. They ate everything boiled, and drank the water the food was boiled in'. About tlio middle of September they reached a large lake away in the interior. They were windboiuid for ’ two weeks, and then the caribou niiv. grahion was past, and reluctantly ! they turned hack over their old trail inland, not having seen an Indian or any other human being since leaving North-West River. Then winter •was upon them, and lieforo September was gone the temperature drop- _ .ped to ten degrees above zero. Then they broke their thermometer, and ■ could get no record. , Wallace’s narrative tells the story with tragic interest from this point: “On October 11th wo,reached the ’’4 camp where we had killed the caribou when going in, and got together the dried bones wo had left and boiled them for soup. We scraped the skin from the decayed head, boiled and' ate the remains of the head, and scraped up what was left of the stomach and ate that. Tlio horns we scorched in the fire and ate them. Everything was eaten that we could f- eat all the way down towards NorthWest River. -Before wo began our retreat from the big lake I had lost thirteen inches in the waist mea- , sure. ■ Our bones were sticking through' the skin. We had not shavi ed or cut our hair, and our appearauce must have been pitiable. I ' knoiv the others looked, especially ’ Hubbard, like walking skeletons. We were so weak at length, that we could ■*-. not sit-down- without falling. - All along tiiS? route w ® 'had left portions of our- outfit, until it was reduced to Suto necessaries.- My rifle, Hub's sextant, and other valuable r , thirigs were left behind. M e carried : the old caribou bones with us, and boiled them over and over, and drank the water. Then one day Hubbard could not carry his little pack into camp, an<l 1 made him put it clown and follow without any load. I returned and got his pack. “Tlio noxt day, October I7tli, was the same. He could go no farther. Wo pitched the tent, made him lie down, and George and I got together none wood for a fire. "Wo were •eighty miles from the Northwest River, but at the head of Grand Lake; forty miles, away, wo hoped to fine trappers and food. On the way twelve miles below, where Hubbartl gave out, wo bad left a bag with- some remnants of wet flour in • . Wo loped to get some Help Lorn that. after camping we consulted and it was decided that we should ’ k-avo bur c-rihou bones and !•'"pieces of flour-bag I found, tbrorbi iklwiiy on the way up, . with sonie 1 R-nips of mouldy flour sticking- to it, P for' Hubbard', and George and i go f on next morning to the flour-bag v.e I had abandoned, boning to find some f - flour in it. I sa*- up nearly all night 1 tgitfiugdftc fire going to »'ann f k wlSrc!;;ai» next morning, attci g<-t----sbitt%wocd, and wrapping HubGeorge and I bbard was able to walk <b' t’ 1-;.; t'y' arid E-lson lett the •j; ' i re'?’'cold rain was fa-ll-•i - / “X'Wgcd :steady ..."■. can into their • .c. bein’ hp#kcliflicui't. Atd. iat

censed and heavy snow set in, lasting till morning. At daybreak they continued on, neither having closed an eye the whole night. Towards noon they had to ford the river waist deep. At dusk Elson killed' a partridge, and they ate it raw. That night in camp they boiled the head and entrails, and ate them and drank the broth. Before dark they reached' the flourbag. It contained only lumps of mouldy green stuff that bad onco been flour.

The next morning Elson, with part of this to help him in bis thirtymile journey to the trappers’ camp ajt Grand Lake, and ’Wallace, with what clung to the bag and a feulumps of stuff to return to Hubbard, parted. The snow had began again, and was falling thick and fast. Vi allace was very weak and nearly blind from the smoke from file camp-fire. Before noon tlio snow was half-way to. liis knees, and from that night? when lie made camp, the storm never ceased night and day until October 29th. The noxt day ho forded flic river, breaking tlio tliin ice on the edge until he reached ice thick enough to allow him .to climb out of the water on to it. The third day ho was still far from tlio camp when night came on, and he walked the greater part of the night. The river was now. frozen. The snow had obliterated all landmarks, and after searching several times -when ho' thought- tlio camp must be bo was at length compelled to give up the search and head towards Grand Lake. His matches were nearly gone, and wood was hard to get, so he only made a fire every night. And so it was, day after day, night after night, until lie lost ail record of the time lie had been away from camp, and did not know the day of the week or the month it was. One night he was almost too weak to gel sticks for a fire, but got a few together—a- very few—and made a. little lire under the stump of a fallen tree by a bank. The stump was rotten and took fire, and smouldered all night, reflecting somo heat. In the

morning he tried to get somo moro sticks, but fell in the snow. Ho was overcome with a desire to sleep, and sat dozing by tlio stump—and it would have been bis last sleep—when he heard some men shout, and four men on snowslioe's, with big packs on their backs, came over the bank. He was too dazed for a moment to realise they were men. Then he remembered that Elson had gone to try to summon Donald Blake from Grand Lake. Wallace continues: “I knew Donald, and I recognised him as one of the men. I spoke his name, ■Donald Blake,’ and he took my hand in liis, and my senses - returned with the touch of human flesh. In a moment they had a roaring fire and some hot tea, and gave me a slice of bread-and-butter. I ato it, and it made me sick, but did me good. My rescuers were Allen Goudy, Donald Blake, Gilbert Blake, and Duncan Maclane, all half-breed trappers.” Elson had got safely through' to Grand Lake, catching game to help him. He was very nearly drowned once by being wrecked on a frail raft he found, but reached the trappers’ camp safely. They hurried back with liim to where he and 'Wallace parted, and then traced the latter back towards Hubbard. Wallace, they found, had missed the track, and for days walked aimlessly around. It was afterwards discovered that ho had camped 200 yards from Hubbard’s tent. He passed the site on the up track, went around it, and, .when found, was ten miles away below it. He could not have survived the day during which lie was discovered. Ali ke had to cat were, liis deer-hide snowshoes, which lie cut up piece by piece, and boiled until it was tender.

Wallace sent Allen Goucly and. Donald Blake 'on- the look for Hubbard. They found him in a sleeping posture, dead, and ho had evidently gone to sleep after making an entry in his diary on October 18th—the. day his comrades left him to seek for food. Tho trappers were miablo to transport, the body to the coast owing to tho rivers and marshes being still unfrozen, but they - secured it against prowling animals, and brought out his effects. Tho entry in his diary is as follows. “I want to say here that they aro tw 0 of tho very best, bravest, and grandest men I ever knew, and if I die it-will not bo because they did not put forth their best efforts. Our past two days liavo been trying ones. I have not v.-ritten my diary because

I am so very weak. Yesterday at an old 1 camp we found tho end wo had' cut from a flour-bag. It had a bit of flour sticking to it. Wo boiled it wit'll our old caribou bones, - and it thickened the broth a little. We also found a can of' mustard wo had thrown away. I sit and held it in my hand a long time, 'thinking how it came from home. Then I took a bit© of it, and it was very good. , Wo mixed some in our hone soup, and it seemed to stimulate us. \V,e had a bite of baribou skin in that same pot. It swelled up thick, and was very good. “Last night I fell asleep while the boys were reading to me. This morning I was very sleepy. After tho boys left—they left mo tea, tho caribou bones, and another end of HourBack found here and some yeast cakes —I drank a cup of strong tea and some bone broth. I also ate some of the really delicious raw hide boiled jwith bones, and it made me stronger —strong enough to write this. The boys have only tea, and 1 two pounds of pea-meal. Our parting was most affecting. I did' not feel e 0 bad. George said, ‘The Lord help us, Hubbard; with His help I’ll save you if I can get out.’ Then ho cried, so did Wallace. Wallace stooped and kissed my check with his poor sunken, bearded lips several times. 1 - kissed bis. Then they went away. God bless and help them. My tent is pitched in open lent style in front of a rock. Tho rock reflects the fire, hut it is going out because of the rain. 1 shall let it go out and close the tent till the rain is over, thus keeping out wind and saving wood. To-night, or to-morrow, perhaps the weather will improve, so 1 can build a lire, eat tho rest of my moccasins, and a pair of cowhide mittens. They ought to help come. lam not suffering. The acute pangs of hunger have given- way to indifference. I am sleepy. I think death from starvation is not bad. But let no one suppose I expect it. I am prepared, that is all. I think tho boys will be able, - with the Lord’s .help, to save line,” ■'.■ ' N-M'-- ..-.MriKilLALfi.

pers, Wallace and Elson reached North-West River on November 6th, where the factor,' Mr Mackenzie, did all in his power lor them. Wallace dwells with a relish on liis feelings when he, who' had not had his hair cut since leaving New York at the end of June, nor shaved since leaving North-West- River on July loth, found himself under the hands of an amateur barber, and afterwards in a tub of water for a warm bath, with a suit of night clothes, a soft bed, and.a fire in liis room, as well as appetising food and a good cigar. ’Wallace, however, bad been severely frostbitten in both feet, and mortification set in; so on December 3rd lie was taken on' a konietik '(dogsledge) twenty miles to Goose Bay. where a doctor was stationed at a lumber camp. Here be remained two weeks, tlio physician cutting the gangrene from his toes, and otherwise treating him so as to arrest the mortification. He returned to NorthWest River on December 17th, having one. cheek frost-bitten on tlio way —a- not unusual occurrenco in Labrador, with the thermometer about lOdeg.” below zero, as it was then. ’Wallace was hoping at first that lie and Elson.would bo able to start late in February, and with dog teams journey along the coast to Quebec, a- distance of 1209 miles. This trip lie hoped to mako in about six or eight weeks, conveying the dead body of his companion along also. But two circumstances' prevented this: ’Wallace’s own slow recovery from tlio elfects of tlio frost-bite in bis feet, and the difficulty of moving Hubbard’s body from where ho died to tlio Rost.

The unfrozen marshes made this impossible in tlio autumn; and though several attempts were subsequently made, they wero rendered futile, at first by the Grand Lake not having caught over, and then by heavy snowfalls; and it was not until March 2otli that the melancholy' -burden was transported to North-West River Rost, a journey of 150 miles—7s miles each way—for Elson and those who accompanied him. Mr Wallace was unable to be one of these, as for'four months liis legs were so blistered that, on liis recovery, whenever he moved the blood oozed out through the pores of his skin ; and he liad to learn to walk anew, like a baby, by holding on to chairs and moving slowly about the room. A sad circumstance was that Dr. Hardy, who treated liim, succumbed himself, dying on March 22nd. His death was indirectly brought about by liis ministrations on Wallace, having caught a severe cold when visiting- him. Not until the latter part of April was Wallace well enough to travel; and when -he proposed to transport Hubbard’s body south to the coast, he was advised on all sides that it was impossible. But lie persisted, and the next difficulty was about getting dogs; the teams -used there being too small to drag the body and coffin. But at length he got a big team from the French Trading Company, in Hamilton Inlet, and on April 21st started from the Rost, proceeding via Rigolefc, Cartwright, and the fishing harbors, along the coast.' It was a trip of -175 miles, and 94 dogs were used in its several stages. Battle Harbor was reached May 12th, where they put lip at the mission hospital, and Dr. Cluny Maepherson treated the -body with preservatives and bad it enclosed in -a leaden coffin, made from sheet lead 1 obtained from a fishery agent there, -and hermetically sealed. There they learned that the “Aurora,” Captain Kean, was at Capo Charles, four miles distant, and secured from him a passage to St. John’s. “The “Aurora” is one of the stout wooden steamers which prosecute the Newfoundland seal fishery, and it was a fortunate circumstance that she happened to be harbored at Capo Charles, or Wallace and Elson would have had to wait there- many weeks before the mail-boat could reach them, or been compelled to continue to Quebec, a further journey of 700 miles. But, by connecting- with her, they were enabled to be set down in ■St John's within three days; and from there one of tlio regular liners conveyed them to New berk, whence Hubbi-d's bo-ly was taken to irs ■homo in Detroit to bo buried. Caplain Kean, who was thoroughly well ■familiar with conditions along Labrador, as all Newfoundland fishermen are, while deploring the foolhardiness which induced these young fellows—all three of .them under .35 —to venture into the wildness without adequate food or equipment, gives the highest praiso to them for their determined struggle against adverse fortune. Especially does lie praise XVallace, for the manner in which ho overcame all obstacles in bringing his dead comrade’s body out to the sea-coast, when he. might so' eaeily have buried him where he died.