closer to the fire, before which we alternately sat and lay
shivering throughout the night. Having brought no axe with us, we
could not build a fire of any size. I do not believe either of us
slept more than half an hour.

"Which would you rather have, Wallace, a piece of bread or a
blanket?" George would ask at frequent intervals.

"Bread," I always answered. At that he would chuckle. We had
tasted nothing but venison and fish since the day we killed the
caribou, and for bread we had an inexpressible craving.

"Anyway," George would say, "this cold will weaken the flies." And
with this reflection he continued to comfort us as the nights
became chillier.

In the morning we had to break the ice to get water for our tea,
which with the two remaining caribou ribs constituted our
breakfast. George then made another attempt at his mountain.
Again he failed to reach the summit, and I failed to induce any
more trout to rise. In a somewhat despondent mood we turned back,
and paddled for some distance into the lake expansions to the
eastward of the point where our river flowed out. Although we were
compelled to start for "home" before obtaining any definite
knowledge of the course of the river, we were of the opinion that
it came from the east. For all we knew, however, the river might
end in those lake expansions; we could not tell, as no current
could be discerned, and having no food we could not continue the
search.