152 THE LIFE OF E. J. PECK 



to surmount. So there was nothing for it but to pack 

 up bag and baggage, shoulder the loads, and carry 

 them for more than a mile. After this a halt was 

 called, and the travellers encamped for the night. 

 They could hardly say, however, with the Psalmist, 

 &quot; I will lay me down in peace and take my rest,&quot; 

 for the mosquitoes and other insects of torture were 

 quite unbearable. 



How glad one is on the morrow of a bad night in 

 camp to say farewell to the camping ground a 

 dirty-smelling camp, a noisy camp, an insect- 

 pestered camp, a low-lying damp camp. These are 

 the lot of the pilgrim who travels through strange 

 lands. He tosses and turns in his not too 

 luxurious bed and waits for the day, thankful 

 when it comes to make a new start, hoping for better 

 things when next he pitches his tent a day s march 

 nearer home. Such, doubtless, were the feelings of 

 this little party when we read that in the morning, 

 &amp;lt;; We passed from the river into a small chain of 

 lakes lying about east by north. We had a hard 

 day s work carrying our loads from lake to lake, 

 or in other words, making portages. The country 

 was hilly, and in some places even mountainous. 

 Partridges were numerous near the shores of the 

 lakes, and we saw several deer tracks during the 

 day.&quot; 



Each day closed with prayer and Bible reading, 

 with a simple exposition of the passage read. On 



