BOUND FOR FORT VERMILION. 311 



Although our hunters could sleep soundly they pos- 

 sessed the faculty of waking at pleasure, and were 

 habitually early risers. The sun, therefore, had not 

 yet thrown his beams up the broad bosom of the Peace 

 when they were astir and preparing for their de- 

 parture. A canopy of fleecy vapour hung above the 

 course of the river, and from behind its opaque wreaths 

 could be heard the quavering cry of the loon, the 

 quacking of ducks, and the gabble of geese. A breeze 

 soon sprang up and cleared away the fog, revealing the 

 flocks of waterfowl, as well as the heads of several 

 beavers that were swimming at a little distance. At 

 the appearance of the hunters the beavers dived, and 

 the geese and ducks, with harsh cries, rose into the air 

 and disappeared beyond the trees. 



The distance still to be traversed before reaching 

 Fort Vermilion was nearly two hundred miles; but 

 the river was slow and deep, and the labour of paddling 

 the canoe was trivial. The party therefore addressed 

 themselves to their work with light hearts, and the 

 graceful little boat flew up-stream, impelled by the 

 sinewy strokes of their practised arms. 



For some days they paddled onward, halting only 

 for their meals and for the night. Game was plentiful 

 along the banks of the river; they frequently saw 

 moose dash away into the woods, and on every hill- 

 side bears of several kinds seemed busily engaged in 

 grubbing for roots. Wildfowl, in countless numbers, 

 streamed off' the water at the approach of the canoe, 



