206 SPORT AND TRAVEL PAPERS 



things very quickly wore a cheerful aspect. The Indians 

 preferred to dry their garments on the body partly because 

 they had no change by sitting close to the fire, almost hidden 

 in a cloud of steam ; luckily for me the latter had a free and 

 unimpeded exit through the large hole in the roof. Supper 

 over, and the elaborate "service" washed and cleaned ready 

 for the morning, the Indians lit their pipes, chatted in 

 Algonquin, and played " spoilt five " on the bunk, where they 

 afterwards slept in the closest proximity between two blankets, 

 dreaming, no doubt, of the happy hunting-grounds where all 

 fur-bearing animals are plentiful, and pork, tobacco, and rum 

 are to be had for the asking. Until we had a sudden thaw, 

 ushered in with heavy rain, our roof seemed perfect, but now 

 the water poured in everywhere like through a sieve, and hunted 

 us from place to place in search of some spot less wet than 

 another. A heavy snowfall, followed by a sharp frost, however, 

 came presently to our assistance, and made the roof once more 

 as a respectable roof should be, but spoilt for a time all chance 

 of tracking moose. We wanted fresh soft snow or rain, with 

 plenty of wind, and not the noisy crust which now overlay the 

 ground everywhere. Several other unfortunate circumstances 

 combined to make this trip a total failure as far as moose were 

 concerned. The hunter, Franois, who had proved so valuable 

 the year before, and who was now again engaged, had taken to 

 drink just before he was wanted, and, after experimenting on 

 the relative strength of an axe handle and his wife's head, the 

 former winning easily, had sought the retirement of the bush, 

 and was nowhere to be found. The half-breed Joe who was 

 with me two years ago, a very indifferent hunter, had to take his 

 place, and brought a friend as cook. The former was not worth 

 his two dollars a day, but the latter Frank proved, though 

 surly and bad-mannered to a degree, an excellent chef. His 

 spatch-cocked partridge, broiled on a stick in front of the fire, 

 was excellent, only to be beaten by a salmi of the same bird 

 a I'ognon et au lard, prepared most artistically in our treasured 

 iron pot, tilted on one side as usual. He, the cook, had looted 

 a pocketful of currants somewhere on the way up, and these he 

 now and then introduced into the bread, baked to perfection in 

 that truly wonderful but sadly- cracked utensil. It was now 

 November, and although the large lakes and running creeks 



