It’s not a nice feeling to be scared, particularly when there’s nothing positive to be scared of, and I tried to reason myself out of it. I hadn’t been scared at the thought of going into the bush with the Indian — nervous, yes, but not scared. Why should I be scared now? But the answer was there in the memory of Laroche and Paule Briffe staring at me. To go in with Mackenzie was one thing, but it was quite another to go in with those two for company. And the fact that they were foreign to me, both in temperament and race, only added to my sense of uneasiness.
There was something else, too, something that I think had been at the back of my mind ever since that meeting with him at Camp 134, and it sent me hurrying over to the bookshelf to take down Henri Dumaine’s book again and search the pages anxiously for any mention of the surname of the man who had accompanied my grandfather. But the only name he gave him was Pierre, and as I searched the pages I was gradually absorbed into the story of his journey. As Darcy had said, it was a trivial day-to-day account of the hardships and appalling travelling conditions he had experienced, but now that I was on the brink of a similar journey it had a significance that held me fascinated. Outside, the sunlight vanished, and as I read on, the light faded and it began to snow, and I felt again that Briffe couldn’t be alive.
It was shortly after this that Darcy returned, and he had Bill Lands with him. They came in stamping the snow off their boots, and when Lands saw me, he said, ‘Well, I guess Bert told you. We’re gonna have one last try at locating them.’ It was in my mind to tell him that he’d left it too late, that they’d be dead by now, but his next words silenced me. ‘You may be right,’ he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. ‘Or you may be wrong. I guess it doesn’t matter either way. You’re here and by tonight there won’t be a man up and down the line who doesn’t know why you’re here. There’s talk already. God knows where it started — that fool Pat Milligan down at Head of Steel, I guess.’
He came across to me, his eyes fixed on my face. ‘If it’s any satisfaction to you, your damnfool obstinacy has left me no alternative.’ He stood there, glaring at me. And then abruptly he said, ‘Where’s Paule? We just been talking to the Camp Superintendent. He said she got in from Two-ninety this morning. Have you seen her?’ And when I told him I’d found her asleep in the hut, he asked me how she was dressed. ‘Did she have cold weather clothing and a lot of gear with her?’
I nodded.
‘Goddammit!’ he cried, and he swung round on Darcy. ‘I told you, Ray. Soon as I knew she was here. Where is she now?’ he asked me.
‘I think she’s gone up to the trestle,’ I said. ‘She was going to talk to Mackenzie.’
He nodded angrily. ‘Yeah, I remember now. He was guide to her father one season. And Bert? Where’s Bert?’
‘He was here,’ I said. ‘They drove off together.’
‘So he’s with her?’ I nodded. ‘Well, I suppose that was inevitable.’ He unzipped his parka.
‘You think she intends to go with them?’ Darcy asked.
‘Of course.’
‘But surely you can stop her?’
‘How? She’s as obstinate as the devil. And I don’t know that I’d care to try now,’ he added. ‘Her hopes have been raised and she’s entitled to see it out to the bitter end, I guess.’ He swung round on me. ‘Christ Almighty!’ he said. ‘You’d better be right about this or …’ He scowled at me, pulled up a chair and sat down on it heavily. ‘Well, it can’t be helped.’ His voice was suddenly resigned. ‘But I don’t like it, Ray. It’s too late in the season.’
‘Maybe you could get the use of the helicopter again,’ Darcy suggested.
But Lands shook his head. ‘They need it on the grade right now. Besides,’ he added, ‘the Indian would never find the lake from the air. It’s got to be a ground party.’ He looked across at Darcy. ‘Will you do something for me, Ray? Will you go in with them? I’d go in myself, but things are piling up and I got to get {hat new ballast pit going.’
‘I don’t know how Staffen would take it,’ Darcy said.
‘I think I can square Alex for you. If I can…’ He hesitated, shaking his head. ‘Bert’s no fool in the bush. But he’s been injured and I’m not certain — how he’ll stand up to it. I don’t want anything to go wrong, Ray. I know it’s asking a lot of you…’
‘Okay,’ Darcy said, his tone flat and matter-of-fact. ‘So long as you square Staffen.’
‘Thanks. Thanks a lot, Ray.’ His tone was relieved. And after a moment he got to his feet. ‘I’ll go down to the radio shack and contact Alex. You’d better start getting organized. You’ll need stores for five of you, including the Indian.’
‘You think he’ll agree to act as guide?’ Darcy asked.
‘Sure he will. Paule will see to that. You’d better leave it to him to decide whether it’s worth lumping a canoe along and portageing. Depends how much water you’re going to strike between here and the lake. And take one of those lightweight tents and those down sleeping-bags we issue to the smaller survey parties. If they haven’t any in store here, get them sent down from Two-ninety. And see that Bert and Ferguson are properly kitted out.’ He turned to me. ‘You’ll go in with them. Do you good,’ he added savagely, ‘to see what it’s like, since you’re responsible for the whole thing.’ And he turned and strode out of the hut.
‘He’s hoping it’ll kill me,’ I said.
‘Oh, don’t let Bill worry you,’ Darcy said, with a smile. ‘He’s upset on account of the girl.’
‘Anybody’d think he was in love with her.’ I said it only because I was annoyed at his attitude, but Darcy took it seriously. ‘Maybe you got something there. Maybe he is — in a fatherly sort of way.’ And then he came over and looked down at the book I had dropped on the bed. ‘Did you find anything?’
He seemed afraid that I might have discovered something vital in it, and I remembered how he had searched through the pages when he had found me reading it that first time. ‘No,’ I said. ‘Nothing new.’ And the relief on his face convinced me I was right, and I saw again the name laroche written in capitals in my father’s log book.
He nodded. ‘Well, let’s go up to the store and see what we can dig up in the way of clothing. And then we’d better go and talk to the cook about stores.’ He seemed to take the whole thing very calmly, as though a five-day trek into the bush were all part of the day’s work.
I felt very different about it myself, and as we walked down through the camp, I had the impression that the country was lying in wait for me. It is difficult to convey my feeling, because nobody who hasn’t been there can fully appreciate the latent menace of Labrador. I am told there is no country quite like it anywhere in the world. Maybe it’s something to do with the fact that it has so recently — geologically speaking — emerged from the grip of the Ice Age. Whatever the reason, the raw emptiness of it took hold of me that morning in a way it hadn’t done before. The camp was deserted, of course — and that made a difference. All the men were at work on the grade, and though I could hear the distant rumble of their machines, it was an isolated sound, tenuous and insubstantial in the virgin vastness of the surrounding country — a vastness that seemed to dominate — and the huts, black against the snow, looked solitary outposts without any sense of permanence.
Unconsciously my mind conjured up the picture of Briffe crouched alone by that radio set — the only hope he had of contacting the outside world. ‘Can you handle a transmitter?’ I asked Darcy, for I had a sudden feeling that in the end our own safety, too, might depend on it.
‘No. I don’t know a dam’ thing about radio. Do you?’
‘Not enough to transmit.’
‘Well, Bert Laroche will know.’