WITH THE VOYAGEURS 11 



In the afternoon Preble and I pushed on in our boat, 

 far in advance of the brigade. As we made early 

 supper I received for the twentieth time a lesson in 

 photography. A cock Partridge or Ruffed Grouse 

 came and drummed on a log in open view, full sun- 

 light, fifty feet away. I went quietly to the place. He 

 walked off, but little alarmed. I set the camera eight 

 feet from the log, with twenty-five feet of tubing, and 

 retired to a good hiding-place. But alas! I put the 

 tube on the left-hand pump, not knowing that that 

 was a dummy. The Grouse came back in three min- 

 utes, drumming in a superb pose squarely in front of 

 the camera. I used the pump, but saw that it failed 

 to operate; on going forward the Grouse skimmed 

 away and returned no more. Preble said, "Never 

 mind; there will be another every hundred yards all 

 the way down the river, later on." I could only reply, 

 "The chance never comes but once," and so it proved. 

 We heard Grouse drumming many times afterward, 

 but the sun was low, or the places densely shaded, or 

 the mosquitoes made conditions impossible for silent 

 watching; the perfect chance came but once, as it 

 always does, and I lost it. 



About twenty miles below the Landing we found the 

 abandoned winter hut of a trapper; on the roof were 

 the dried up bodies of 1 Skunk, 2 Foxes, and 30 

 Lynxes, besides the bones of 2 Moose, showing the 

 nature of the wild life about. 



That night, as the river was brimming and safe, we 

 tied up to the scows and drifted, making 30 more 

 miles, or 60 since embarking. 



