friends still wetter than we, all of them soaked. The wind had repeatedly blown down their flimsy sail shed, Our tent leaked badly and we were lying in a mossy bog. We were soon dry, however, at the big fire we made and felt better after bread and beans, etc. I brought in some Labrador tea which the suffering minister relished. The rain is so heavy and the head wind so high we will not leave camp unless it should clear up somewhat. Then in that case I should like to go back and explore Houghton B[ay] which we could do in this wind. Toyatte is afraid of passing Cape Fanshaw, the nose, as he calls it. How enthusiastically the tall spruces are tossing their arms. This is the first time I have seen them fully awake and how they roar. T...