C Ihe Ladies c cu. V'VVAN - History and Classics, Department of

VIIITHE LADIES, THE GWICH'IN, AND THE RATreading had focused on the canoe-travel section that we should ourselves befollowing. Now, particularly after many more travels "up North," I am struck bythe quality of writing and power of observation in this woman's account of herhrst impressions of northern Canada and its people. Writing of the leisurelytravel by passenger-boat, and the visits to northern communities, Vyvyancaptures well the adjustment to the different pace of life in the North, no longerdominated by the clock. There have been many accounts of early travel on theMackenzie and the Yukon, but Vyvyan's ranks high among them, peopled as it iswith characters whose stories and dialogue she catches with perception and accuracy.The lure of the North, and tales of what has brought people "In," and whathas kept them from going "Out," fascinate her. Yet, the book might have beenjust another travelogue, albeit lively and perceptive, were it not for the sectionthat sets it apart: the canoe trip through the mountains.In her autobiographical writings, published later in her life, Vyvyan describesthe McDougall Pass journey as a remarkable experience, unlike any other in herlife, distinguished though this was for exotic travel. She recalls the vastness, theremoteness, and the sense of achievement. One does not easily forget, however,and nor did she, the mosquitoes of the Rat River, which are grim even bynorthern standards. Although Clara and Gwen had been warned, the onslaughtcame as a shock, and the mosquitoes form a recurrent theme in the book. Tomake matters worse for them, their tents were evidently not bug-proof. Even forour party, most of us with several seasons' experience of northern bugs, and withgood protective gear, the mosquitoes of the Rat were a sore trial. I remember asense of complete outrage at the way those clouds of insects zoomed in on theexposed parts of my anatomy when necessity forced me to lower my pants.Bitterly, I envied the men their less vulnerable plumbing arrangements.Whenever one was motionless, the creatures would be piled thickly on one'sclothing, creating a stress that was more psychological than physical. A slap of thehand yielded a black, soupy mess, on which the next cohorts quickly descended toprobe and jostle. Eating was a problem; like the Vyvyan party, we would use thesmoke of a nre for protection, or eat standing up to catch what breeze there was.Unfortunately, most of our party found it impossible to wear headnets whenworking the canoes upstream, for they precluded the accurate judging ofdistances, depths, and underwater hazards. I often thought, as we toiled up therocky Rat, of Clara and Gwen trudging on shore while their two guidesmanhauled the laden canoe upstream. But I did not envy the two women. Except