TO THE TIMBER'S EDGE 181 



wonder is they ever accomplish anything. One hand is 

 almost invariably kept busy seeking those Northland 

 " birds of prey " ; and as one is caught it is conveyed to 

 the teeth and cracked and subsequently eaten. It may 

 be imagined when the lodge is full that, what with the 

 cracking (which is distinctly audible) and the hunting, the 

 scene is enlivening. Keeping track of the alternately dis- 

 appearing hands and determining the cause of the crack- 

 ing were at first quite exciting occupation for me during 

 my weary days in the lodge. And " they never touched 

 me " during the entire trip, for which I thank an ointment 

 I carried, and that \ shall be glad to tell any sportsman 

 likely to visit localities where vermin rule in undisputed 

 sway. 



How gratified I was when on the third day we finally 

 left the women, some of the vermin, and the lodges, and 

 started on our way to the Barren Grounds, I shall not at- 

 tempt to say. It seemed to me that the starving and 

 freezing that lay before were little less to be dreaded 

 than the filth and monotony I was leaving behind. Not 

 that I left all the filth or vermin behind, for my seven 

 Indians took along a generous share, but, at any rate, I 

 was out in the open, instead of being sandwiched between 

 women and children that made me crawl only to look at 

 them. 



There was a very solemn leave-taking on the day we 

 left Beniah's lodge, and I was as much in the dark as to 

 the relationship between the men and women as on the 

 first day of my arrival. Every man embraced and kissed 

 every woman, the men shook hands, and the children sat 

 down in the snow and stared, and as we moved off the 

 dogs left behind sent up their wolfish chorus. 



Ye gods ! it was a relief to be started ! 



Beniah and I had held a sign-talk that morning, and I 



