130 
FOREST AND STREAM. 
[Jan. 28, 1911. 
battered and bruised, I can only recall toward 
the last a sort of nightmare of progress. We 
reached the river something over two hours after 
Pascal had fallen, having probhbly made double 
the necessary distance. Pascal had no compass 
and went, I think, by his sense of smell. 
Pascal now informed me that he thought the 
toes of his wet foot were frost bitten, but that 
he preferred to get to camp and treat them 
there rather than to attempt it in the open. Be¬ 
sides he did not think they would get any worse 
than they were while covering the short distance 
that remained. 
He was now ready to leave his sack, as this 
spot was on the road home, and it would have 
been useless to pack the things further. After 
cutting off some steak we hung the rest of the 
things in a tree and started on the last three 
miles. A feeble moon was showing and after 
the darkness of the woods the faint illumination 
appeared to us like a glorious light. 
Being rid of my incubus, and having had a, 
refreshing drink of water and a short rest, I 
found myself considerably revived. The remain¬ 
ing three miles did not seem so very long and I 
think I could have kept on walking much further 
in the open, as my legs had taken on a sort of 
automatic action, and comparing notes with 
Pascal I found he had the same sensation. 
When we reached the shack and halted, how¬ 
ever, my strength suddenly deserted me, and in 
order to build the fire I had to sit down in front 
of the tin stove. Never before had we such 
occasion to rejoice in our fidelity to our iron¬ 
clad regulation that the night’s supply of wood 
should always be chopped before leaving camp 
in the morning. While I was building the fire, 
poor Pascal was getting his frozen moccasin 
and socks off the wet foot, the toes of which 
were white and solid chunks, though hte had 
only expected to find frost bite. , 
I constituted myself doctor, and with Pascal s 
approval packed the foot temporarily in snow 
and then took an old wooden box that I found 
and went out to where I had noticed an up 
rooted tree with earth clinging to the base, and 
with the aid of the axe I managed to get the 
box full of this earth. On the way back I was 
so tired that I had to sit down and rest some . 
fifty feet from the camp before I could gather 
strength enough to reach it. Neither of us 
wanted supper now. The hunger had passed 
and we were literally too tired to eat. This is 
the only occasion that I can recall having reached 
this desperate pitch. I thawed out the earth in 
the box, pulverized it, and when no more frost 
remained, buried Pascal’s foot. Half an hour 
later the earth was again frosty all around the 
toes, while they were thawed out. This method 
is better than cold water. 
We wrapped the toes up in raw caribou as 
well as we could, and went to bed exactly at 
midnight. Of course our hunting trip ended 
right there. Next morning Pascal’s foot was 
very swollen and painful, and it was impossible 
to get a moccasin on it. 
Pascal made himself a sort of enormous shoe 
from sacks which we emptied for the purpose, 
but he was unable to haul the sleigh or to put 
any strain on the foot, so I had to get in 
harness and do this work. He was a regular 
ox at hauling, but I had never tried it before, 
except a few hundred yards for the fun of the 
experiment, and when we reached one of Pas- 
4 
cal's hunting camps ten miles further down the 
river, I was exhausted.- We had made a very 
late start, and as the afternoon was now well 
advanced we put up there for the night. 
I have no objection to portaging on my back; 
in fact, I rather enjoy it when it does, not-come 
too often, but on reaching Pascal’s camp that 
night I vowed that if I ever again hauled ’a 
sleigh, it would have to be loaded entirely with 
gold nuggets. I have kept the vow. Incident¬ 
ally I may mention that the nuggets have not 
yet turned up. 
It snowed all night, and next morning I aban¬ 
doned the sleigh and decided to send two men 
after it later. Pascal did not say much, but he 
was suffering intensely, and I think he was very 
glad that there was light enough to enable us 
to make the final distance to the village—a dis¬ 
tance of thirty miles—without camping again. 
He left his cabin that morning like a decrepit 
old man, but later his foot got broken in and 
was less painful. 
On the way down we visited some of his traps 
along the river and in one of them found a 
lynx. These animals are most remarkable for 
vitality. The hunters have a cruel practice of 
sometimes leaving their traps for three weeks 
or more without a visit, and Pascal told me 
that in all his experience he had never found 
one dead lynx in his traps. We killed this fel- 
I -- 
THE TOP RAIL. 
He could talk plainly enough when not flust¬ 
ered, and even then his words were not always 
unintelligible, if you shifted the vowels about a 
trifle. He roused me out of a sound sleep one 
rainy night by piling into my tent with his air 
bed and blankets and a peremptory demand to 
“lie over” and make room for him. Peeved at 
the intrusion, I asked, “What’s the matter with 
your ten,t?” 
“The reeflukes,” he replied. 
“The what?” 
“The reeflukes,” he repeated, as he tucked a 
pair of muddy moccasins away in a corner of 
the tent. 
“Well, why don’t you—” 
“The reeflukes; the riflooks—the roof leaks," 
he stammered, throwing his dripping sou wester 
at my head, in ultimate triumph over trouble¬ 
some vowels. 
Why is it that all the world loves to tease 
those who, through some impediment, cannot 
pronounce words in the orthodox fashion? I 
know a canoeist who cannot utter three con¬ 
secutive words without great effort, and yet he 
sings perfectly in a clear tenor. 1 o listen to one 
of his songs around the camp-fire fills one’s 
heart with peace. On a dark night he and a 
companion were overtaken by a heavy squall 
wh;le crossing wide waters in a tiny cedar canoe. 
low by a blow of a pole over the head. It 
hissed and spit at us as an angry house cat 
might have done, but made no effort to spring. 
When caught in a trap, lynx rarely spring on 
being approached, unless a blow from the pole 
catches them on some other part of the anatomy 
than the head. In the latter case they set up 
an awful caterwauling, and sometimes try to 
spring and scratch, but this more in an effort 
to get away than to attack. 
A lynx which I once saw wrench himself loose 
by springing shot off to one side as soon as he 
found himself free, as he went taking a piece 
of stocking from the man who had missed crack¬ 
ing the skull with his pole. 
I have often noticed a curious tendency lynx 
have to follow other tracks, whether of a snow- 
shoe or a moose. But as they never come in 
sight while following a snowshoe track, it is 
hard to imagine their object, unless it be like 
that of a gull following a steamer. 
I broke trail for twenty-five miles in front 
of Pascal that day, ending up in almost the 
same condition as on the night of the antlers, 
for the snow was heavy. Our last five miles 
was on a logging- road. On our arrival at the 
village, Pascal’s foot was a case for the doctor. 
The poor fellow must have suffered intensely, 
and nearly all the flesh fell off from a couple of 
his toes. Plis snowshoeing for that winter was over. 
The water was so cold that both men, powerful 
swimmers though they were, knew they could 
scarcely make shore should their canoe swamp. 
They nursed the little craft along, merely keep¬ 
ing headway to ride out the storm, and sang old 
cruising songs until the lights of camp came into 
view after the worst of the storm had passed 
over. 
* * * 
Looking out the window one day I saw a cat 
creep across the lawn and crouch behind a tree, 
facing a small-mesh wire fence. Outside the 
fence several sparrows were fluttering about in 
the short grass, and if they saw the cat they 
displayed no interest in her presence. Perhaps 
they knew from experience that the fence would 
protect them. But if the cat saw the fence, her 
actions were strange, for she sprang full at the 
birds, and plunging head on against the flexible 
wires, was tossed back, and when she had re¬ 
gained her footing she turned her head this way 
and that, as if to make sure her neck was still 
in working order. Just then an arrow struck 
her amidships, and the two surprises, coming so 
swiftly, were toe much for her to analyze—in 
the immediate vicinity. Her actions in catch¬ 
ing birds since then lead me to believe this cat 
can see perfectly. 
* * * 
Some of the advertisements in the British 
sportsmen’s papers 7 are clear enough to all those 
who are familiar with various favorite waters 
for fishing, but seem strange to others. Here 
are a few of them: 
“Laerdal River, Mo and Honjun beat for sea¬ 
son.” 
“Excellent fishing with small furnished house 
conveniently situated.” 
“Sundal River, Hoi beat for June and July.” 
“Our maggots have won more trophies than 
any or all on the market.” Grizzly King. 
