FACING HOMEWARD 247 



Rain began at 6 and continued a heavy storm all 

 night. In the morning it was still in full blast, so no 

 one rose until 9.30, when Billy, starved out of his warm 

 bed, got up to make breakfast. Soon I heard him call- 

 ing: "Mr. Seton, here's a big Wolf in camp!" "Bring 

 him in here," I said. Then a rifle-shot was heard, an- 

 other, and Billy appeared, dragging a huge White Wolf. 

 (He is now to be seen in the American Museum.) 



All that day and the next night the storm raged. 

 Even the presence of Caribou bands did not stimulate 

 us enough to face the sleet. Next day it was dry, but 

 too windy to travel. 



Billy now did something that illustrates at once the 

 preciousness of firewood, and the pluck, strength, and 

 reliability of my cook. During his recent tramp he 

 found a low, rocky hollow full of large, dead willows. 

 It was eight miles back; nevertheless he set out, of his 

 own free will; tramped the eight miles, that wet, 

 blustery day, and returned in five and one-half hours, 

 bearing on his back a heavy load, over 100 pounds of 

 most acceptable firewood. Sixteen miles afoot for a 

 load of wood! But it seemed well worth it as we rev- 

 elled in the blessed blaze. 



Next day two interesting observations were made; 

 down by the shore I found the midden-heap of a Lem- 

 ming family. It contained about four hundred pellets: 

 their colour and dryness, with the absence of grass, 

 showed that they dated from winter. 



In the evening the four of us witnessed the tragic 

 end of a Lap-longspur. Pursued by a fierce Skua 

 Gull, it unfortunately dashed out over the lake. In 



