HUNGRY GROVE TO SANDY POND 201 



meat. I was only hunting heads, but all the 

 Indians had strong opinions on the subject of 

 meat. 



On September 1st Steve was out at day- 

 break with the small rifle and came back about 

 seven o'clock triumphant, having shot a young 

 stag in good condition. He had crawled within 

 about fifty yards and killed the beast with one 

 shot. I was simply astonished, for I never could 

 have believed that the little rifle, one of Rigby's 

 rook rifles, could have killed an animal bigger 

 than an ordinary red deer. Steve had brought 

 in the liver and kidneys and left the meat to be 

 picked up on our march, for fortunately it was 

 close to a pond we had to pass through. How 

 we all revelled in a good breakfast of kidneys 

 and liver and bacon. Every one was in good 

 humour, for we now had ample meat. 



The brook was about three-quarters of a mile 

 long and everything had to be portaged. 



It looked ideal fishing water, and while the 

 men were portaging I fished every pool. I got 

 two onannaniche and two mud trout above the 

 first pool, and then never a rise, though the 

 pools looked perfect. 



Where the brook fell into the next lake 

 looked the best water, but I could move nothing. 

 Why, I could not understand, unless it was that 

 the season was late for these waters. 



