40 ■ LAKE SUPERIOR. 



were shot, as well as a young creek-sheldrake, (^3Iergus cucullatns,^ 

 from a small flock in a creek emptying into the river. On returning 

 to the neighborhood of the boat, we found a fire lighted and prepara- 

 tions making, under the superintendence of Henry, the steersman, for 

 getting a supper from a ham and some flour which had been provi- 

 dently stowed in our canoe. The process of frying the ham, and 

 roasting the birds on a spit stuck in the ground, was neither new nor 

 interesting to me otherwise than as conducive to supper. But the 

 process of making bread with mere flour, water, salt, and a frying- 

 pan, excited my curiosity. Nothing to my knowledge was put in to 

 make the bread rise, neither had anything been provided by us for 

 that purpose, yet the dough, after having been kneaded for a long 

 time, pressed down into the frying-pan and toasted before the fire, 

 turned out excellent bread, perfectly light and well-tasted. By what 

 mystery the fermentation was accomplished or gotten over, I leave 

 to the initiated to make out. Perhaps the vigorous and long-con. 

 tinned kneading may have supplied the place of yeast ; at all events, 

 some of the party, whose cooks were more sparing of their labor than 

 ours, used to have heavy bread, a misfortune that never befell us. 



Shortly before dark the other canoe arrived, and we learned that 

 the bateau had been driven back by the force of the wind, and had 

 put in for the Canada shore. 



We were now established for the night. There was nothing very 

 cheery about the aspect of the Pointe-aux-Pins ; — a desolate mass of 

 sand, with the tent standing out against the bleak sky, backed by a 

 few stunted willows, the river a couple of hundred yards in front, 

 and a horizon of forest beyond. 



A bleak, desert situation, so exposed to the wind that we had to 

 carry a guy far to windward, attached to the peak of the tent, to pre- 

 vent it from being blown over. No vestige of human habitation in 

 sight, and no living thing, except the little squads of pigeons scud- 

 ding before the wind to their roosting place across the river. Yet I 

 felt as I stood before the camp-fire, an unusual and unaccountable 

 exhilaration, an outburst, perhaps, of that Indian nature that delights 

 in exposure, in novel modes of life, and in going where nobody else 

 goes. We slept comfortably on the sand, which makes a good bed, 

 easily adapting itself to the shape of the body, with the drawback 

 however of getting into one's hair and blankets. 



