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

goTHE LADIES, THE GWICH'IN, AND THE RATIn a later visit the archdeacon was extremely helpful when he suggested that weshould persuade our guides to take us down as far as Sinclair's Point, nearShingle Rock, some 25 miles beyond La Pierre House, so that they might help usthrough the rapids in that stretch of the river. Our memorandum only told usthat "some swift water may be encountered before the Porcupine is reached, butno rapids of dangerous proportions." Neither had our other two advisersmentioned these rapids as anything other than "swift water." However, weremembered the archdeacon's warning when we reached La Pierre House andour guides took us down to Shingle Rock.I had hoped to give Gwen interest and occupation in pressing flowers for ourcollection but even wild flowers, like so many of life's luxuries, were scarce atAklavik and I only found a few species. These were bog bean, marsh-marigold,bearberry, lYrola, wild rose, yellow anemone, a small 0psophila, a pink Rubus threeinches high, and a dwarf form of grass-of-parnassus. For the rest vegetationconsisted mainly of silver willows, alder and the stunted spruce that seemed tohem us in completely on either bank of the river.One cold afternoon I walked for about three miles along the mud bank of theriver, intent on the bird life of the country. The mosquitoes were very troublesome.At one point there were ten northern ravens together; I also saw terns,semi-palmated plover, sandpipers and yellowshanks and the nest of a whisky-jackwith young birds. One day Canon Hester showed me a white-headed sparrow'snest on the ground, with four young. There were huge buzzards or eagles often tobe seen, with very serrated wing-tips and once I penetrated to the swamp behindour convent and saw many grackles, and also had a close-up view of six yellowshanksstanding in a bed of bog bean. It was seldom, however, that I left the riverbank, for the undergrowth was impossible, with snags of fallen trees, grasstussocks between which one would stumble knee-deep, muskeg or spongy mossand clouds of mosquitoes.The best afternoon of all was when, after four days of slow stalking of the bird' smovements, I found a semi-palmated plover's nest with four eggs. It was on theground among the willows, and the bird had given the most amazing performanceof defensive tactics before my search met with success. Again and again itflopped on the ground to entice me away from the nest, feigning to have a brokenwing, and fluttered within two yards of me. I went away hurriedly as soon as I hadfound the nest, and left that valiant mother bird in peace.