a 
68 ACROSS THE SUB-ARCTICS OF Cava 
to the upper end of the portage, which represented a 
walk of thirty-three miles, eighteen of which were 
travelled with one-hundred pound loads upon their 
backs, over rocky hills and through swamps knee-deep 
with mire. This was disheartening work at the outset, 
but it was good training for what was to follow. 
The next morning the,weather was hot and the flies 
were out in swarms, as on the day before. The men 
were all foot-sore and stiff, but without a grumble re- 
sumed their work. They were obliged to make two 
more trips before everything was across, and by that 
time it was nearly noon; still, without a pause for rest, 
they loaded the canoes, pushed out into the lake—a 
small expansion of the river—and headed for the 
opposite shore, where we soon discovered the mouth. 
When yet far out on the lake we could see the river’s 
foaming water, and as we drew nearer could plainly 
hear the unmistakable roar of a cataract. Some distance 
to the right, on a sand-beach, we went ashore, and found 
ourselves at the foot of a second long portage. 
Because of the condition of our men camp was now 
ordered to be pitched, so as to give them some chance to 
recruit. My brother and I walked across the portage, 
and found it to be three and one-half miles in length. 
It was, however, much less difficult than the former one, 
being more level and less rocky. Its upper end termi- 
nated on the shore of Black Lake, where we hoped 
to find Indians who would help us across. But in this 
we were disappointed, and, instead of Indians, found 
only old forsaken “tepee” poles and blackened fire- 
places. We tried to rest for a while upon the shore of 
Black Lake, but the flies swarmed about us with such 
