38 BIRDS 



watershed. After an active and successful day's work, 

 I wrote : 



' ' I capped my lens, folded my tripod, boxed my cam- 

 era and took my departure. I soon reached the edge of 

 the small lake near my camp, where I found my Hudson's 

 Bay Indian guide with the canoe, waiting for me. (Fig. 

 6.) We soon rowed across the narrow stretch of water 

 to my quarters. When I retired to my bed of pine 

 boughs, an evening farewell-look from my tent showed, 

 standing by the dying embers of the campfire, this 

 perfect physical specimen of an Indian, in the midst of 

 his solemn appeal to the Great Spirit. As I closed my 

 eyes in the slumber that comes to him whose labors have 

 been pleasant, I thought, 'twas the 'end of a perfect 

 day.'" 



