e never-failing source of amusement,
which, because it was the only one, was all the more valued and taken
advantage of. I refer to our appearance. George had shaved once since
we had gone into the country, but neither Hubbard nor I had known the
caress of a razor since we left the post on July 15th. None of us had
felt the loving touch of the scissors upon his hair since leaving New
York in June, and our heads were shaggy masses of more or less
dishevelled and tangled locks. Long-continued exposure to sun and
storm and the smoke of campfires had covered our faces with a deep coat
of brown. Our eyes were sunken deep into their sockets. Our lips were
drawn to thin lines over our teeth. The skin of our faces and hands
was stretched tight over the bones. We were almost as thin, and almost
the colour of the mummies one sees in museums.

As for our clothing, it was still hanging upon us, and that is about
all that can be said of it. Our trousers, full of rents, were tied
together with pieces of fish line. The bottoms of our moccasins were
so hopelessly gone that we had our feet wrapped in rags, with pieces of
fishline tied around what remained of the uppers. Our flannel shirts
were full of rents. Around our necks we wore red bandanna
handkerchiefs. Our soft felt hats had become shapeless things so full
of rents that if it were not for the bandanna handkerchiefs we wore in
them our hair would have protruded at every point.

Frequently we would picture ourselves walking into our homes or through
the streets of New York as we then were, and laugh at the thought.
"Wallace," Hubbard would say, "the cops wouldn't let you walk a block;
they'd run you in sure. You're the most disreputable-looking
individual I ever saw, by long odds." And I would retort: "I'd make a
good second to you; for you're the worst that ever happened."

It was on Saturday morning, the 26th, that we reached the western end
of Lake Mary and completed fifteen miles of our forty-mile portage. We
pitched our tent, as we had done before, on the site of the old Indian
camp, near the brook George had pointed out as a good fishing place.
The rain and wind continued in the morning, but at midday the sun came
out and we were able to dry our blankets. Always we waited for the sun
to dry the blankets; for we had had so many articles of clothing burned
while hanging before the fire we did not dare to trust the blankets
near it.

While we were following