82 EXPLORATIONS IN THE FAR NORTH 



Emile sometimes worked for the French missionaries, but 

 usually depended on his nets and traps for a living. He under- 

 stood no English, though he picked up a few words during the 

 trip, which he would repeat upon hearing one of them used by 

 the others, or when he was pleased at the result of a lucky 

 shot. When there was an abundance of tobacco and provision 

 he was good natured and ready to laugh at the most trivial 

 circumstance; when we began to starve his face lengthened, the 

 thickened nether lip drooped, and his complaints became loud 

 and frequent that someone in the party was to blame for the 

 wind and lake being vexed. When we returned a month later 

 and found that an old crone had died about this time, at Rae, 

 he of course saw that she had caused the adverse winds! After 

 witnessing some of his gastronomic performances I could give 

 some credence to the statement that he had once eaten a cari- 

 bou in two days; at one time he had been a member of a York 

 boat's crew of seven that was given a fifty-pound sack of flour 

 for use while descending the Mackenzie — a journey of several 

 weeks. They received the flour in the evening and ate it all 

 during the night! 



On the fifth day we moved to a larger island near by, where 

 we found enough driftwood, that had been driven across the 

 lake from the Slave River, to maintain a good camp fire. We 

 crossed the traverse on the evening of the seventh day, and 

 camped among the islands which for the next thirty miles are 

 much larger than those of the Northern Arm. We would have 

 been without provisions had we not reduced the daily ration to 

 one-third the usual amount. We were four days in traveling 

 the thirty miles of coast between Yellow Knife Bay and the 

 Gros Cape. This point projects from the north shore toward 

 the line of islands which separates the open western body of 

 the lake from the long, island-dotted eastern portion. Our 

 route followed the islands across to the south shore, a distance 

 of perhaps fifty miles from the Gros Cape. 



Taking advantage of a calm on the tenth day we crossed the 

 first traverse, and stopped to boil the kettle on a small island. 

 Emile started to gather driftwood, but came back at once 

 shouting, " Les graines jaunes." We all scrambled up the 

 rocks to a stretch of moss, covering the northern half of the 

 island, where a fine patch of yellow berries, sheltered from the 



