ws into the Nascaupee
some fifteen or eighteen miles above Grand Lake.

The whole character of the country had now changed. It was very rocky
and steadily growing more barren. Ridges and hills extended to the
mountains on the north. Great boulders were piled in confusion behind
us and in front of us. Portaging over them had been most difficult and
dangerous. A misstep might have meant a broken leg, and as it was, the
skin had been pretty nearly all knocked off of our shins from the
instep to the knee.

Below the fall we had discovered was a deep pool in which Hubbard
caught, with his emergency kit and a tamarack pole, twenty trout
averaging twelve inches in length. We camped near this pool. The hard
work of the day had brought on Hubbard another attack of his old
illness; apparently it was only by a great exertion of will-power that
he kept moving at all during the afternoon, and at night he was very
weak. Before supper he drank a cup of strong tea as a stimulant, and
was taken immediately with severe vomiting.

Watching his suffering, the thought came to me whether, disregarding
all other considerations, I should not at this point strongly insist on
the party turning back. I was aware, however, of the grim
determination of the man to get his work done, and was convinced of the
uselessness of any attempt to sway him from his purpose. Moreover, I
myself was hopeful of our ability to reach the caribou grounds; I felt
sure that Hubbard's grit would carry him through. Looking back now, I
can see I should have at least attempted to turn him back, but I am
still convinced it would have been useless. I thoroughly believe only
one thing would have turned the boy back at that time--force.

After this vomiting ceased, Hubbard said he felt better, but he ate
sparingly of the boiled fish we had for supper. George and I also felt
a bit weak, and our stomachs were continually crying out for bread or
some other grain food. As we reclined before the fire, Hubbard had
George tell us of various Indian dishes he had prepared. After he had
entered into these gastronomic details with great gusto, George
suddenly said:

"Wouldje believe it, fellus?--I once threw away a whole batch of
cookies."

"No!" we both cried.

"Fact," said George.

"For Heaven's sake," said Hubbard, "why did you do it?"

"Well," said George, "it was when I first went cookin' in a surveyor's
camp. The cookies wasn't as good as I thought they