60 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH 



the stage of water in the rivers, or the tides of the lake as influ- 

 enced by the wind. These channels swarm with muskrats, and 

 in the migratory season myriads of waterfowl halt upon the 

 battures to feed, while a comparatively small number remain 

 during the summer to breed in the adjoining marshes. More 

 geese and ducks are killed there than at all other posts in the 

 North. The big and little waveys are the most abundant and 

 the most highly prized, though swans and Canada geese, 

 ducks and cranes abound. 



It would be several weeks before I could continue upon the 

 journey northward, and as I could not live at the post and col- 

 lect in the delta, I secured a skiff the day after our arrival 

 and, provided with a few pounds of flour and bacon, set off 

 alone toward the southernmost of the rocky islands in the 

 delta of the Quatres Fourches or Peace River, which has 

 deposited its silt between them until they are connected by 

 low grass-covered swamps containing many shallow lakes. The 

 channels are all willow-fringed, no other tree or shrub growing 

 upon the low grounds. The only tent I could get was five feet 

 in height, without walls — a very poor shelter in which to live 

 and work for five weeks. For three days after reaching the 

 island it snowed almost continuously, making collecting rather 

 disagreeable work, especially as I had no means of warming 

 the tent and had neither seal nor rubber boots. 



The catkins of the earliest willows burst their envelopes on 

 the 24th of May, the first warblers arrived on the same day. 

 Thenceforward leaf and blossom rapidly developed though 

 snow fell as late as June 14th. Frequent rains and northerly 

 gales rendered camp life anything but pleasant. 



Each morning was spent in making a four or five mile trip 

 with the skiff among the islands, in search of water birds. As 

 I depended on the game secured for food, the success of the 

 morning's hunt had a material effect upon the bill of fare for 

 the day. The afternoons were spent in skinning birds, a task 

 which, from the loneliness, became inexpressibly monotonous. 

 After supper, consisting of hot tea and fried duck, if it was not 

 raining, or of cold meat and cold water if it were, I would spend 

 an hour or two in collecting land birds, to be cared for next 

 day. A family of whiskey jacks was disposed to dispute my 

 right to encamp near them; they would sit and scold for hours 



