trees reading their Bibles and singing very softly, almost as if
afraid of disturbing the stillness of "the silent places," some of
the fine old church hymns. A thunderstorm passed later, but it
lasted only a short time, and the evening was fine. Job took a
canoe and went up the river scouting. As we sat on the shore by
the camp fire, after 9 P.M., and supper just ready, he came
floating down again. The river carried him swiftly past us and he
called "Good-bye, Good-bye." Then all at once the canoe turned and
slipped in below the point. He reported the river rapid as far as
he went or could see.

Monday we started at 8.30 A.M., crossing to the other shore, where
I walked along a bear trail on the flats, while the men brought the
canoes up by poling and tracking. The morning was wonderfully
clear, and millions of dewdrops glistened on the low growth. The
"country," or "Indian," tea which grew in abundance was in blossom,
and the air was filled with fragrance. It seemed to me the most
beautiful morning we had yet had.

As the river grew more and more difficult part of the outfit had to
be portaged. Two miles above camp about half a load was put into
one of the canoes, and slipping the noose of a tracking line round
the bow George and Gilbert went forward with it, while Job and Joe
got into the canoe to pole. Had it not been for my confidence in
them I should have been anxious here, for the river was very rough,
and close to shore, where they would have to go, was a big rock
round which the water poured in a way that to me looked impassable.
But I only thought, "They will know how to manage that," and
picking up my kodaks I climbed up the bank to avoid the willows. I
had just reached the top when looking round I saw the canoe turn