START ON RETURN JOURNEY 195 



news ; hopes and forebodings voiced of sheer 

 imagination ; but from all it was not in our 

 power to raise one single conviction of comforting 

 reliable substance — we were beyond the voice 

 of our kind ; conjecture as we might, there could 

 be no answer, unless the vast snow waste was 

 pierced, and jingling, joyful sled-bells should 

 herald the packet from the south. 



Each day we watched over the sea of lake ice 

 to the south, each night sealed down the envelope 

 of another span of expectancy and disappoint- 

 ment. 



From the 23rd to the 27th I had waited at the 

 Fort ; on the night of December 27, which was 

 a Sunday, I made final preparations to go — no 

 hope of the packet remained, no gladsome trans- 

 formation to justify my staying on and a renewal 

 of north travel. 



On the morning of the 28th a group of natives 

 gathered about the sleds as we harnessed up. 



J'Pierre and Mistewgoso were to accompany 

 me to Pelican Narrows, which was a post in 

 touch with Cumberland House on the Sturgeon- 

 weir River Route, which, in turn, was not very 

 far from The Pas, which terminated the newly 

 projected Hudson Bay Railway. They were to 

 drive two dog-sleds loaded with specimens: 

 chiefly Caribou, Barren-ground Wolves, and Foxes, 

 for most of the bird-skins collected had previously 

 been sent south by arrangement with the Fur- 

 trader. 



With warm hand-shake I bade good-bye to 

 the untrammelled, upright redskin children of 

 the wild who were standing almost shyly about 



