HUNGRY GROVE TO SANDY POND 205 



at one of Steve's trapping camps, which was to 

 be our headquarters. 



Sandy Pond is a lovely sheet of water studded 

 with innumerable islands, some densely wooded, 

 some quite bare. In the early mornings and 

 evenings in fair weather the view was exquisite, 

 and I was never tired of the changing effects on 

 the lake. One day there would not be a ripple, 

 another day would come a gale and driving 

 rain, and such a sea that the canoes could not 

 be launched, but as a rule for three weeks we 

 had perfect weather. 



In crossing Sandy Pond I caught four nice 

 trout, the two largest about 1J Hb. each, so the 

 day's bag was two deer and eight trout. The 

 licence only allows the shooting of three stags, 

 but to shoot meat for food is, I think, an un- 

 written law of the island, and I feel sure the 

 authorities themselves would not insist on a 

 too strict application of the licence. It is 

 simply impossible to carry enough tinned meat 

 to keep four men going, and with meat at 

 the door when it is urgently needed it is not 

 human nature to resist the temptation. On 

 the entire trip we shot only what was absolutely 

 necessary for food, but with no meat in camp I 

 used to send Steve out with the small rifle to 

 shoot a barren doe for the pot, and not a pound 

 of meat was wasted. 



