awhile and talked, and finally went to our blankets in the chilly
tent.

September came with a leaden sky and cold wind, but the clouds were
soon dispelled, and the sun came bright and warm. Our progress was
good, though we had several portages to make. On September second, at
noon, we left the larger canoe for the men to get on their way back,
and continued with the eighteen-foot canoe, which, with its load of
outfit and five men, was very deep in the water, but no wind blew and
the water was calm.

Here the character of the lakes changed. The waters were deep and
black, the shores were steep and rocky, and some labradorite was seen.
One small, curious island, evidently of iron, though we did not stop
to examine it, took the form of a great head sticking above the water,
with the tops of the shoulders visible.

Sunday, September third, was a memorable day, a day that I shall never
forget while I live. The morning came with all the glories of a
northern sunrise, and the weather was perfect. After two short
portages and two small lakes were crossed, Pete said, "Now we make
last portage and we reach Michikamau." It was not a long portage--a
half mile, perhaps. We passed through a thick-grown defile, Pete
ahead, and I close behind him. Presently we broke through the bush
and there before us was the lake. We threw down our packs by the
water's edge. _We had reached Michikamau._ I stood uncovered as I
looked over the broad, far-reaching waters of the great lake. I
cannot describe my emotions. I was living over again that beautiful
September day two years before when Hubbard had told me with so much
joy that he had seen the big lake--that Michikamau lay just beyond the