brought us parting gifts of smoked deer's fat and were manifestly in
earnest in their urgent invitations to us to come again. The whole
encampment assembled at the shore to see us off and, as our canoes
pushed out into the stream, the men pitched small stones after us as a
good luck omen. If the stones hit you good luck is assured. You will
have a good hunt and no harm will come to you. None of the stones
happened to hit us. We could see the group waving at us until we
rounded the point of land upon which the lodges stood; then the men
all appeared on the other side of the point, where they had run to
watch us until we disappeared around a bend in the river below, as we
passed on to push our way deeper and deeper into the land of silence
and mystery.

The following morning brought us into a lake expansion some twelve
miles long and two miles or so in width, with a great many bays and
arms which were extremely confusing to us in our search for the place
where the river left it. The lower end was blocked with islands, and
innumerable rocky bars, partially submerged, extended far out into the
water. A strong southwest wind sent heavy rollers down the lake.
Low, barren hills skirted the shores.

Early in the afternoon we turned into a bay where I left Easton with
the canoe while I climbed one of the barren knolls. I had scarcely
reached the summit when I heard a rifle shot, and then, after a pause,
three more in quick succession. There were four cartridges in my
rifle. I ran down to the canoe where I found Easton in wild
excitement, waving the gun and calling for cartridges, and half-way
across the bay saw the heads of two caribou swimming toward the
opposite shore. I loaded the magazine and sat down to wait for the
animals to land.