with each other in Indian. Ten o'clock came, and still the dip,
dip, of the paddles went on. Now and again they were laid across
the canoe, and the pipes came out, or the tired arms rested a
little. It was not till eleven that we finally turned in to camp
at Silver Pine Lodge, having made twenty-two miles of our journey.
The sky was still light in the north-west.

The men soon had a roaring camp fire, for it had grown cold after
sunset. We had a second supper, and at 12.45 A.M. I made the last
entry in my diary and went to my tent. Meanwhile, the light slowly
shifted from west to east along the northern sky, but did not fade
away. The men did not put up their tent, but lay beside the fire,
for we meant to be up betimes and try to make the mouth of the
Nascaupee River before the lake, which was already roughening a
little, became impassable.

At 3 A.M. George called, "All aboard." A quick breakfast, and we
were started. Paddling straight towards Berry Head we passed it
about six o'clock, and by 8 A.M. were safe on the Nascaupee River,
where the winds could not greatly trouble us.

The sand-hills stand about the wide-mouthed bay into which the
river flows, and many little wooded islands lie at its head, and in
the river's mouth, which is entirely obscured by them, so that it
is not until you are close upon them that the river can be seen.
For a mile we threaded our way among these islands and found
ourselves at the mouth of the Crooked River where it enters the
Nascaupee on the north. The two river courses lie near together
for some distance, separated only by a sandy plateau, in places
little more than a mile wide.