144 ON SNOW-SHOES TO THE BARREN GROUNDS 



promised to drink to it again on Washington's birthday. 

 And as I wrote February 22d in my journal that morning, 

 that delightful evening seemed so long ago ; but with the 

 storm howling about me I drank their healths in strongest 

 tea, and felt sure they too had drunk mine. 



It was one o'clock of the fifth day when we came to the 

 end of the (about) twenty-mile portage which connects 

 Great Slave River with Great Slave Lake, and carries the 

 voyagcur over the last stage of his journey from Fort 

 Smith to Resolution. The wind had subsided and the 

 atmosphere cleared of flying sno\v as we toiled through 

 the heavy going to the timber's edge, flanked on either 

 side by closely growing and winter-bemantled pine ; and 

 when we finally reached the open, and the great frozen 

 lake lay before us, the dogs were stopped for a spell, while 

 the Indians got out their best mittens, relaced their moc- 

 casins, and lighted pipes. 



These preparations were always an infallible and, for 

 most of the time, the only sign on the journey from La 

 Biche to Resolution by which I knew we were approach- 

 ing our destination. On the two occasions when speech 

 with my guides was possible the only information I could 

 ever elicit in reply to my inquiries concerning distance 

 was that it was either a little or a big " piece " off. As a 

 " little piece " meant anywhere from five miles to a day 

 or a day and a half's travel, and a " big piece "from a 

 day and a half to three or four or even more days, I 

 was never able, until I learned to interpret the signs of 

 changing costume, to form any idea of our relative lo- 

 cation. 



When arriving at or departing from a post the Indians 

 invariably clothe themselves in their most highly orna- 

 mented moccasins, mittens, and leggings, and whip the 

 dogs into their fastest pace. En route, however, these gay 



