The plain had once been sparsely, wooded but was burned over and
very desolate looking now. Huckleberries, cranberries, and
Labrador tea grew in profusion, and were in blossom, while patches
of reindeer moss were seen struggling into life where we made our
camp.
During the last part of the day's journey the current had been
increasingly swift, and some distance ahead we could hear the sound
of a heavy waterfall. We reached it the following morning about
two miles or more above our camp. It was a beauty, about thirty
feet in height. The canoes could be taken close to the foot of the
fall, and after a short carry over the high, rocky point were put
in the water again not twenty feet from the brink of the fall.
As the morning was fine, I had walked from camp to the fall while
the men brought up the canoes. I was striding along the terrace,
not thinking at all about my surroundings, when I suddenly became
conscious of a most delightful fragrance, and looking down I found
myself in the midst of a tangle of the long, trailing vines of the
twin flower (Linnea borealis), sweetest of all Labrador flowers,
with hundreds of the slender, hair-like stems bearing their
delicate pink bells.
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