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

48 THE LADIES, THE GWICH'IN, AND THE RATOur next call was at Fort Simpson, a beautifully sited place on a high bank atthe mouth of the Liard River. Wandering out alone I encountered bull-dog fliesas well as mosquitoes and was driven back to the steamer by a thunderstorm.Later I went ashore again with the judge to visit the wireless station and theIndian agent, and then, leaving the men to their yarns for a while, I went to lookat the Roman Catholic church. I stood inside it and watched two Grey Nuns whocame slowly forward through doors on either side of the altar, each bearing alighted candle. Then, each one mounted a small stool and slowly, reverentlyplaced their lights upon the altar. A bearded priest was kneeling there, with hisrosary; purple strips of paper adorned the rafters, the church was very bare. Allthis was a strange contrast to the scene outside where the June sunshine waspouring down on a raw settlement in which half the necessities and all the luxuriesof life were wanting, where leagues of virgin forest stretched away into thedistance from the river banks.My thoughts went overseas to ancient churches in France and Italy, beautifulstone buildings deeply rooted in antiquity, with all the ornate paraphernalia ofworship in their services, and then returned to the stark simplicity of this woodenbuilding in the northern land, where the long arm of the Catholic church wasreaching out into the wilderness.Every time we arrived at a settlement of any size the scene of welcome was likesome scene in a ballet. The banks were so muddy that the crowd could notassemble on them and behave as a jostling, excited crowd naturally would behavewhen they all hurried down to greet the first sign of outside life that had appearedin nine months. They were lined out among the stones and boulders and alongthe narrow duck-boards in a single file procession. The whole population wouldbe there, old and young, lone settlers come in from their huts, nuns and priests,the Indian children of the mission with boys wearing blue corduroy suits andlarge white ties, with girls clad in scarlet skirts, white blouses and black boots.Sometimes the procession would be quite 100 yards long, but even so thosehuman forms, outlined between the background of unbroken forest and theforeground of untamed river, never seemed to be any larger than mere dots onthe landscape. I have seen the same effect in the mountains of Greece wherehundreds of people advancing by narrow tracks towards a village, for some danceor celebration, would appear to be no larger than ants.