MIGRATION AT MILLAIS'S LAKE 65 



It was rough at night, and snowing a little, so after 

 dinner, when pipes were glowing, the conversation naturally 

 turned on winter hunting and adventures in the snow. The ^ 

 men told me of rough times they had experienced when 

 they went in to get the winter meat. 



"A' mind a time," said Saunders, "when a' was 'most 

 crazy. 'Twas once when ole man Stroud, the two Arnolds, 

 and young Baxter come in wi' me to hunt our winter meat, 

 and young Baxter Stroud, a boy o' seventeen, he got lost 

 in de snow. Ole man Stroud sends Baxter out wi' me, and 

 tell me to be perticler careful wi' 'un cos he ain't no good 

 at findin' way, but I never think he'd stray the way he 

 done. Third day out a' sees three deer, and goes fer 'em. 

 They moved over a ridge, so I ran on, cut 'un off, and 

 after puttin' three guns at 'em, kills one, and paunches 'un. 

 By-and-by a' goes to look fer Baxter, but he ain't whar 

 a'd left 'un, so I specs he'd gone to camp. When a' 

 come in the ole man Stroud says kind o' sharp, ' Where's 

 Baxter?' and a' looks round and sees he ain't thar. A' 

 feels kind o' sick fer a minute, fer it's now snowing hard, 

 and cold fit to freeze a body to death, but a' couldn't say 

 a word even when de ole man say he won't see his boy 

 again. We all starts off by-and-by to look fer tracks o' 

 Baxter, fer the snow had stopped, and the moon had 

 come out. Stroud he wants to go to the place where 

 a' had left the boy, but a' knew well enough tracks was 

 all covered by this time, and that Baxter would make fer 

 the old camp which we'd left in de morning. 'Bout day- 

 break we come to a place where our ponies had broke 

 through de ice morning before, and as we stops to look 

 we hear a faint call from a droke o' spruce close by 

 — a' runs up, and there lies Baxter 'most froze. We lights 



