BLIND LEADING THE BLIND 81 



reach it ; and a mirage added confusion by placing it now 

 near by and then far away, and all the time the hard ice 

 made running particularly torturing to my ankle. The 

 tea was made by the time I finally put my foot on that 

 island. It was exceedingly hard going for men and dogs 

 all the way to McMurray, for the trail led down Clear 

 Water River, on which the supplies in early days were 

 brought into the country, and the snow was deep. We 

 were all worn, and I was thankful indeed when the light 

 of Spencer's cabin pierced the darkness and I knew I had 

 put 240 miles of my long journey behind me. 



How I relished a good wash and a satisfying meal I shall 

 not attempt to say ; few of my readers have gone with- 

 out either or both, and could not appreciate my feelings. 

 Nor could I adequately express my gratitude to Spencer 

 and his wife for their unceasing kindness. I spent one 

 day at McMurray, which is located at the junction of the 

 Clear Water and Athabasca rivers, doctoring my ankle 

 and awaiting fresh dogs and guides ; for here John and 

 his dogs, after a rest, turned back. If Spencer had been 

 of Gairdner's sort I should have been delayed again, for 

 none of the Indians took kindly to the trip on to Chipe- 

 wyan, the next post. Those that had promised backed 

 out, and finally Spencer turned over to me the train 

 which had brought the packet from Chipewyan to Mc- 

 Murray. There were four good strong dogs; Francois, a 

 French half-breed, one of the best dog-drivers and runners 

 in the land ; and " Old " Jacob, a Soto Indian, to break 

 trail, who as young Jacob was famous for strength and 

 speed, and even now could beat all but the very best on 

 snow-shoes. Both could talk and understand enough Eng- 

 lish to make some sort of conversation possible, and both 

 knew the road, so that the clouds revealed only their silver 

 lining as we started out from McMurray. 



