escription. It gave me a
peculiar feeling of solemnity and awe that I shall never forget.

We found on our hill a few dead twigs of sub-Arctic shrubbery with
which to make a fire to broil our caribou ribs, and gathered some
mildly acid berries of a variety neither of us had ever seen before,
which we ate as a dessert. After luncheon George said he thought we
had better go to the westward to look for the river.

"But how can it come through those mountains?" I asked.

"I don't know as it can," he replied. "But," pointing to one of the
range, "I want to take a look at the country beyond from that high
mountain."

So we returned to our canoe, and paddled to the westward a few miles
through two lake expansions, which brought us to the foot of the
mountains. We landed at a place where a small creek tumbled down
through a rocky pass. George went up his mountain alone. During his
absence, with my emergency kit, I caught ten six-inch trout to be
divided between us for supper, as only two of our caribou ribs
remained. Near dark George came back. After climbing half way to the
summit of his mountain, he had encountered perpendicular walls of rock
that blocked his further progress.

We made a fire of old wigwam poles, and roasted our fish before it on a
flat stone. A quart of hot tea between us washed down our meagre
supper, and then we made a bed of boughs. But when we tried to sleep
the icy wind that blew through the pass caused us to draw closer to the
fire, before which we alternately sat and lay shivering throughout the
night. Having brought no axe with us, we could not build a fire of any
size. I do not believe either of us slept more than half an hour.

"Which would you rather have, Wallace, a piece of bread or a blanket?"
George would ask at frequent intervals.

"Bread," I always answered. At that he would chuckle. We had tasted
nothing but venison and fish since the day we killed the caribou, and
for bread we had an inexpressible craving.

"Anyway," George would say, "this cold will weaken the flies." And
with this reflection he continued to comfort us as the nights became
chillier.

In the morning we had to break the ice to get water for our tea, which
with the two remaining caribou ribs constituted our breakfast. George
then made another attempt at his mountain. Again he failed to reach the
summit, and I failed to induce any more trout to rise. In a somewhat
despondent mood we turned back, and