A Newfoundland Son

Arriving at Griquet we tied up at the wharf of Esaw Hillier, a local fish merchant with whom I stayed over night. Both Esaw and his wife were most charming and hospitable, as were their daughters, Evelyn and Sybil. I fell completely in love with Evelyn. Her long black hair and deep blue eyes made a beautiful contrast with her fair complexion.

Across the harbour was the Church of England in which services were held every three weeks by a travelling parson visiting area settlements in rotation. Esaw told me that once the Bishop of Newfoundland came into Griquet quite unexpectedly one summer's day. An old lady, the pillar of the church, was responsible for having everything ready, even to chopping wood for the fire to make his cup of tea. She was diligently, and with great concentration, splitting the small chunks of wood, completely oblivious of the fact that the Bishop was even then approaching her on a small footpath leading from the wharf. He hailed her with a loud "Well you're splitting her up ma’am." Without turning around she said quite innocently, "Well don't keep a talkin' bi, git de udder axe and lend a ‘and, weeze gittin’ ready for da Bishop". It was said that the Bishop would send a murmur of laughter through his congregations on many occasions when relating the experience.

The next day the Hilliers described the overland route I would have to follow to St. Anthony. I felt downhearted at having to say good-bye to Evelyn. However, tempus fugit and we must meet our needs trying to keep pace in our fleeting span of life. I set out with a sandwich and an apple for what I reckoned would be a pleasant hike of just over twenty miles. The long days of June provided plenty of light and I followed the old telegraph line on and on.

After many hours, I feared something had gone awry as two sets of lines suddenly presented a conundrum. I chose to take the one leading to the right, and in so doing, got myself in a sorry fix. Keeping on and on over brooks, bogs and woods, I finally decided I must have taken the wrong turn. Climbing a small hill, I could see a vast expanse of water about two miles away, and at the same time discovered that the poles were bereft of wires. Undaunted, I proceeded until I came to the sandy shores of what I concluded to be Hare Bay, a large area of water on the north-east coast of the Great Northern Peninsula.

As dusk was beginning to settle at this time and my food gone, I decided the first requirement was shelter for the night. I was fortunate to find an abandoned cabin with a roof in fair condition, used at some time by fishermen or trappers. Doors and windows were missing and the floor was just plain earth. After being inside for a few minutes I found myself surrounded by hordes of mosquitoes. My only recourse was to dig, with the aid of my axe, a hole in the floor near the door. Here I made a fire hoping the draft from the opening would carry the smoke either through the roof, in which were several open seams, or through the open windows. It worked, and after the ash was bright red I packed on moss which was easily available to make a smudge. I retreated to the farthest point from the smoke and began to explore the area for any possible food.

On a small shelf in one corner I found several caplin thoroughly dried, but very old and stale. In an empty flour barrel was about one quarter inch of dried, caked flour. I turned the barrel upside down, dislodged the contents and skimmed up as much as possible of the revolting affair. This curbed the hunger I was feeling. I sat on the floor, with my back to the wall, and slept fitfully through the long, dark night. My smudge fire proved very effective in keeping the mosquitoes away.

At daybreak I took stock of my situation and decided the best procedure would be to retrace my steps to a fishing village called St. Leonard’s, eight miles from Griquet. By this time I was very hungry and still weary. However, I made fairly good progress until about four miles from St. Leonards when I was forced to sit down and rest every few hundred yards. On reaching the village, I went to the Bursey Store, owned by the local merchant and was made most welcome. Mrs. Bursey was very concerned with my appearance. She gave me some warm bread and milk, saying I shouldn't eat a heavy meal until later. I enjoyed a warm bath and later in the evening dined heartily. They heard that the coastal steamer "Prospero" was expected in two days so on their insistence, I stayed until its arrival. In the meantime, I availed myself of the opportunity to visit the Hilliers by boat, spending a pleasant two hours with Evelyn, the object of my infatuation. We promised to write each other often. I returned to St. Leonards, and on the next day boarded the steamer for St. Anthony.