118 On the trail of vanishing birds 



meal and after eating it we lay down and slept for a solid fourteen 

 hours. The rain continued and the air temperature dropped to 

 41F. 



The next day was the thirtieth of July. The wind stayed in the 

 northwest and blew hard, but after some hot tea we were quite 

 comfortable. Examining the airplane, we found that the tire on 

 the starboard wheel was flat and the condition of the hydraulic 

 retracting gear doubtful. No other damage of any consequence. 

 Taking the ax, we cut some long poles to use in getting our craft 

 afloat and clear of the island in case the wind dropped sufficiently. 



It was nearly five in the afternoon when the sun broke through 

 momentarily. At six-thirty the wind showed signs of moderating 

 and we had hopes of getting away. Finally, around nine o'clock 

 the wind dropped perceptibly and we prepared to move. Two 

 things worried us: our battery had not been charging when we 

 left Coppermine fifty-four hours previously and the wheels might 

 be jammed. We would be unable to get off the water unless the 

 wheels came up. There was one way to settle it. We poled into 

 the clear, the engines started without any difficulty, and after a 

 few doubtful seconds the wheels came up. In another minute we 

 were racing across the surface, and then we were airborn and on our 

 way. In forty minutes we had reached Eldorado. Wading ashore 

 from a sheltered anchorage, we were met by a Canadian Air Force 

 captain who soon had us fed and bedded down in the officers' 

 quarters. We relaxed in style. 



There was a lot more, of course, but after Hunter Bay all of 

 it was somewhat in the nature of anticlimax. As far as that summer 

 was concerned, Smith and I had had it. We searched to the south 

 of Lac la Martre but saw no sign of whooping cranes. It was as 

 if they flew North each spring and vanished from the face of the 

 earth. 



