about were the skeletons of martens of last winter's catch. One
had to stoop a good deal to get in at the narrow doorway. It was
dark, and not now an attractive-looking place, yet as thought flew
back to the white wilderness of a few months before, the trapper
and his long, solitary journeys in the relentless cold, with at
last the wolfish night closing round him, it made all different,
and one realised a little how welcome must have seemed the thought
and the sight of the tiny shelter.

In the tilt there was no window and no floor. All the light came
in through the doorway and a small hole in the roof, meant to admit
the stove pipe. Hanging on the cross beams were several covered
pails containing rice, beans, flour, lard, and near them a little
cotton bag with a few candles in it. Thrown across a beam was a
piece of deerskin dressed for making or mending snow-shoes; and on
a nail at the farther end was a little seal-skin pouch in which
were found needle, thread, and a few buttons. A bunk was built
into the side of the room a few feet above the ground, and lying in
it an old tent. Beside a medley heap of other things piled there,
we found a little Testament and a book of Gospel Songs. The latter
the men seemed greatly pleased to find, and carried it away with
them. We took the candles also, and filled one pail with lard,
leaving one of the pieces of bacon in its place. Already we were
regretting that we had no lard or candles with us. They had been
cut out of the list when we feared the canoes would not hold all
the outfit, and later I had forgotten to add them. The men were
hungry for fried cakes, and the lard meant a few of these as a
treat now and then.

Gilbert had hoped to find an axe here, but although be hunted