might cache, but failed; they were all "too busy."

Mackenzie treated us royally during the evening we spent at his
post, and we enjoyed his hospitality to the utmost, knowing that it
was to be our last night under shelter for weeks to come. Now we
were on the very edge of the wilderness. To-morrow we should enter
the unknown.




IV. THE PLUNGE INTO THE WILD

It was nine o'clock on Wednesday morning, July 15, that we made the
start. Our canoe, laden deep with our outfit, was drawn up with
its prow resting snugly on the sandy bottom of the little strait
that is locally known as the Northwest River. Mackenzie and a
group of swarthy natives gathered on the shore to see us off. All
but the high-spirited agent were grave and sceptical, and shook
their heads at our persistency in going into a country we had been
so frequently warned against.

The atmosphere was crisp, pure, and exhilarating. The fir trees and
shrubs gave out a delicious perfume, and their waving tops seemed
to beckon us on. The sky was deep blue, with here and there a
feathery cloud gliding lazily over its surface. The bright
sunlight made our hearts bound and filled our bodies with vigour,
and as we stood there on the edge of the unknown and silent world
we had come so far to see, our hopes were high, and one and all we
were eager for the battle with the wild.