46 ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS 



ress, disgusted with " Shot " for his vainglorious mouth- 

 ing at La Biche and his halting gait since leaving there, 

 and determined that night to reach Hart Lake, which was 

 only seven or eight miles farther on, and where we ex- 

 pected to get fish (of which we then had 

 none) for our dogs. In language that 

 was pointed I reminded " Shot " of my 

 being the commander- in -chief of our 



o 



little expedition, and made him under- 

 stand we were out neither for pleasure 

 nor for our health, that we had an ob- 

 jective point, and intended to get there 

 without loss of time, and without camp- 

 ing in every cabin we discovered or being 

 headed off by every severe storm we en- 

 countered. " Shot " spluttered a great 

 deal at first, and then looked as if it would 

 give him pleasure to bury his hunting- 

 knife in my flesh ; but he sulked instead, 

 and we moved away from the crowd- 

 ed little house and the roasting rabbits. 

 There had been a broken trail from 

 this point to Hart Lake, but the same 

 storm that was making our walking so 

 arduous had almost obliterated it, and 

 night had long since fallen and the ther- 

 mometer registered 30 below zero when 

 we reached the cabin of the Indian who 

 Gairdner had said would sell us fish 

 enough to last to the McMurray fish- 

 ery. But, like all the things Gairdner told us, we found 

 realization quite different from promise. The Indian 

 was willing enough to sell, but his cache was fifteen 

 miles away; he had just heard it had been broken into 



NATIVE-MADE MEN'S 

 LEGGING GARTERS, 



From an old and lost 

 design 



