No deer, no bears, not even a fox or a timber wolf made one's
fingers itch for the trigger. A few brent, which took wing afar
off, and a high-flying duck or two, were the sole wildings observed,
save a big humble-bee which droned around our boat for an instant,
then darted off again. Even fish seemed to be anything but plentiful.

That night's camp was hurriedly made in a hummocky fastness of
pine and birch, where we found few comfortable bedding-places.
In the morning we passed several ice-ledges along shore, the
survivals of the severe winter, and, presently, met a canoe
with two men from Peace River, crestfallen "Klondikers," who
had "struck it rich," they said, with a laugh, and who reported
good water. Next morning a very early start was made, and after
some long, strong pulls, and a vigorous spurt, the mouth of the
Lesser Slave River opened at last on our sight.

We had latterly passed along what appeared to be fertile soil,
a sandy clay country, which improved to the west and south-west
at every turn. It had an inviting look, and the "lie," as well,
of a region foreordained for settlement. It was irritating not
to be able to explore the inner land, but our urgency was too
great for that. From what we saw, however, it was easy to
predict that thither would flow, in time, the stream of pioneer
life and the bustle of attending enterprise and trade.



Chapter II

Lesser Slave River And Lesser Slave Lake.