A HUNT FOR BREAKFAST. 225 



The cheery voice of the old hunter awoke the young 

 men next morning at an early hour, and announced 

 that as the larder was absolutely empty, the party must 

 hunt for their breakfast. After a refreshing plunge in 

 the deep waters of the Athabasca, the young trappers 

 shouldered their rifles. Leaving Jake to keep camp, 

 they separated, Gaultier following the river in search 

 of water-fowl, while Pierre plunged into the forest in 

 pursuit of deer. 



We will accompany Gaultier in his* -ramble by the 

 river. It was yet gray twilight, but the sky was clear. 

 In its blue depths sparkled stars which were momen- 

 tarily growing pale. The air was delightfully fresh, 

 and was filled with the fragrance of the pines, which 

 were mirrored faithfully in the river. Soon the sun 

 climbed above the eastern horizon, and shot golden 

 beams into every opening in the woods, glancing with 

 prismatic brilliancy on the dew-drops which studded 

 every branch and spray. 



Animated with a happy sympathy with nature, the 

 young trapper cautiously followed the sinuosities of 

 the Athabasca ; but the water-fowl seemed unusually 

 shy and scarce. Gaultier was much puzzled by this, 

 as the birds were visible day by day in large flocks ; 

 and, in fact, the party had almost got tired of shooting 

 and eating them. Still, in the dearth of other provi- 

 sion, the young hunter was most anxious to fill his 

 bag ; and he therefore held on, expecting to come upon a 

 flock of ducks or a swan round each bend in the river. 



