V

The next afternoon, Saturday, August 11th, with a certain sense of “sadness of Farewell” Tota, Bozo and 1 took leave of our new friends (including John Dan’s daughter Marie and his granddaughter Theresa) and set off for Georgetown. Arriving a short piece off the West Tip of Panmure lsland about sundown, I decided to go ashore for the night. That night I slept stretched out on a half dozen canvas—

covered cushions under the canoe on the beach and sheltered by a low bank.

After getting ready for “bed”, there being a fair bit of daylight left, I first went for a walk along the road that leads from the west shore through the length of Panmure lsland. Taking the notion that a change from “camping” food might be nice, I inquired at a house along the road whether I might buy my supper or at least a lunch of fresh farm bread and a fresh egg. The housewife charged me 75¢ for the modest lunch. I mention this, not that l minded paying her, but because it was the first and last time on my whole trip that l was “allowed” to pay for anything. Before I left she inquired my destiny in the morning (Sunday). I told her I was heading for Georgetown. “It’s over across St. Mary‘s Bay to Sturgeon, you should be going" she said, “to attend Mass".

“You may be a good Christian”, I thought, “though a slightly mercenary one; be that as it may, I don’t believe what I do tomorrow morning is any of your damn business.”

With this charitable thought in my mind I took my departure,

walked back to the canoe, crawled in under on top of the cushions and proceeded to go to sleep.

About midnight the air turned quite cold —— no wind but a clammy fog everywhere. As my clothing then (and all during the trip) consisted of a pair of light cotton trousers and a thin cotton shirt and 1 had only one blanket, I had to get up and light a fire two or three feet from the exposed side of the canoe. By frequently re- plenishing the wood supply, I was able to shiver through the night with short spells of sleep.

At pcep-o'-day Bozo and I ate a quick breakfast and I packed up, tho‘ my bones seemed to creak from the night‘s dampness. I had

neglected to take along a rubber ground-sheet and so paid for my neglect.

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