was killed, Richards and Pete having brought with them only enough for
two or three meals.

The country here was rough and broken, with many great bowlders
scattered over the hilltops. When we reached the cache we were
ravenously hungry, and built a fire and had a very satisfying luncheon
of broiled venison steak and tea. We bad barely finished our meal
when heavy black clouds overcast the sky, and the wind and rain broke
upon us in the fury of a hurricane. With the coming of the storm the
temperature dropped fully forty degrees in half as many minutes, and
in our dripping wet garments we were soon chilled and miserable. We
hastened to cut the venison up and put it into packs, and with each a
load of it, started homeward. On the way I stopped with Pete to climb
a peak that I might have a view of the surrounding country and see the
large lake to the northward which he and Richards had reported the
evening before. The atmosphere was sufficiently clear by this time
for me to see it, and I was satisfied that it was undoubtedly Lake
Nipishish, as no other large lake had been mentioned by the Indians.

We hastened down the mountain and made our way through rain-soaked
bushes and trees that showered us with their load of water at every
step, and when at last we reached camp and I threw down my pack, I was
too weary to change my wet garments for dry ones, and was glad to lie
down, drenched as I was, to sleep until supper was ready.

None of our venison must be wasted. All that we could not use within
the next day or two must be "jerked," that is, dried, to keep it from
spoiling. To accomplish this we erected poles, like the poles of a
wigwam, and suspended the meat from them, cut in thin strips, and in
the center, between the poles, made a small, smoky fire to keep the