July 8, 1917
It’s 4:30 in the morning. It was a rooster’s crow that woke me. I heard it across from across or down the lake. Sound travels farther at night. The sun wouldn’t be rising for another hour, but the light was already in the eastern sky. I couldn’t see the morning star – Phosphorous was nowhere to be seen.
It was quite a night last night. A party at George Rowe’s with all the men with fists. We started the evening with George Rowe’s special concoction. The evening ended in an argument about conscription and Martin Blecher Jr. ended up on the wrong side of my fists. George and Shannon held me back. Martin yelled at me, said something like, “Don’t get in my way if you know what’s good for you!” Martin won’t have to worry about me getting in his way, I’ll be leaving tomorrow.
Then Shannon had a go at me. He made an untoward comment about Winnie and I let loose at him.
I need to take care of a few things tomorrow. My sketches are still at the Trainor cottage. I’ll need to retrieve them and when I get to South River, I’ll need to send them down to Dr. MacCallum. Shannon mentioned last night that Hugh Trainor might get rid of them, so I need to get them out. Shannon also said that he managed to get some money together for me. He would give it to me tomorrow.
I plan to leave quietly. I am go canoe the Oxtongue River and make it to the Lake of Bays. There are a number of lodges there, so I shouldn’t have a problem selling my canoe. After that I’ll make my way to South River by the July 14th.
It’s getting lighter and my mood is getting darker. I’ll make it back to my room and sleep the rest of the night off.
Tom Thomson's Last Spring 