At half-past three the next morning we tumbled out 

 of bed, ate a hasty breakfast of bread and butter and 

 bacon and coffee, repacked all our things ( which now 

 were dry) in their proper sacks, carried them dow^n and 

 placed them in the canoes and before the goddess of morn 

 had time to get her eyes open we pushed off for our last 

 canoeing trip of the season. 









THE HOUSE THE BEAVER LIVES IN. 



The pouring rain of the night before had ceased and 

 now the weather had turned so cold that the water froze 

 upon our paddles, and the river was so nearly frozen that 

 there was little or no spring in the canoes. 'Twas a dead 

 push all the way up to the "Northeast Carry." Our 

 leather boots we had not been able to draw on, by reason 

 of their soaking of the night before, and rubber boots had 

 to be substituted, which, in that biting cold, made it 

 inicomfortable paddling. After a run of four miles we 



140 



