CHAP. xv. LIFE IN THE DESERT. 239 



lake we had crossed, saying, ' Here I killed a caribou last 

 winter.' What a life to lead among these rocks and 

 frozen lakes ! But no doubt when a pure mantle of white 

 covers rocks, blackened trees, lakes, boulders, and burnt 

 land, the aspect of nature changes, and assumes the same 

 outline as in all other undulating regions where snow falls 

 deep and lasts long. Five or six families wintered on the 

 other side of the low Dividing Eidge in the valley of the 

 Ashwanipi. They were Nasquapees ; and Michel told me 

 that his father's tribe and they were accustomed to pay 

 visits, for the purpose of holding a feast, when either 

 party had been successful in killing two or more caribou. 



Savage life, in such a wilderness as the one I am de- 

 scribing, is sometimes joyous to the Indians themselves if 

 they can kill enough to eat. The excitement of the chase, 

 the pride, delight, and temporary comfort of success, more 

 than compensate for privations to which they are ac- 

 customed, or for the anxieties which they do not trouble 

 themselves about. They kill a caribou, store away a 

 little, make a gluttonous and wasteful feast of the greater 

 part, sing, boast, and sleep, until hunger wakens them, and 

 the cold reality of their desolation is before them again, 

 to be relieved and forgotten in never-changing routine. 



At no time does an Indian look so well, and, if he is 

 fine-featured, so really handsome, as when just returning 

 from a successful and not too fatiguing hunt in the 



c_ .- o 



winter. His step is firm and proud, his eye dilated, clear, 

 and brilliant not bloodshot and contracted, as it usually 

 is from exposure to smoke in his lodge. His cheek is 

 perceptibly tinged with crimson, seen through the dark 

 skin ; his hair is soft and drooping, wet with severe toil 



