HUNGRY GROVE TO SANDY POND 199 



I take to be char. They were more flabby 

 and not in such good condition as the onan- 

 naniche ; their flesh was a bright red, and they 

 were good eating. 



From Red Hill Pond, after a portage over 

 the short rapid where I had fished, we entered 

 a long weedy pond where fishing was im- 

 possible; then came shallow streams with just 

 a perceptible current and three more large 

 ponds, till we reached our camping ground at 

 4.30 at the head of a rough brook, over which 

 we had to portage next day. I calculated we 

 had come about fourteen miles. The steadies 

 required careful navigation, for there were 

 masses of sharp rocks, some just submerged, 

 others showing well above the water. The 

 bow paddler had to keep a sharp look-out, for 

 very little will knock a hole in a Peterborough 

 canoe. We were now getting rather anxious 

 for meat, for it is simply impossible to carry 

 tinned provisions in sufficient quantity to 

 satisfy the appetites of four hungry men. 



The wind had been north-east all day, and 

 fell to a dead calm as Steve and I quietly 

 paddled out, skirting the lake shore, with the 

 hope of seeing game. We went about a mile 

 and landed on a sandy beach where there were 

 one or two fresh tracks, and then on about half- 

 a-mile inland to a rocky knoll from which we 



