ear him whatever division of the Church may claim his
allegiance.

So accustomed had I become to living in the open that I soon found the
atmosphere of the closed room unendurable, and several times during the
night I had to go out to breathe. I was down on the shore of Grand
Lake for a breath of the crisp winter air when the sun rose. It was
glorious. Not a cloud was there in all the deep blue vault of the
heavens, and, as the sunbeams peeked over Cape Corbeau, the lake was
set a-shimmering and the snow on the surrounding hills radiated tiny
shafts of fire. It was to me as if the sun were rising on a new world
and a new life. Our hardships and their culminating tragedy seemed to
belong to a dim and distant past. What a beautiful world it was after
all! and how I thanked God that I lived!

Allen Goudie had offered George and me the use of his sailboat in
returning to Northwest River Post, and it was agreed that he and Duncan
should row us over to his tilt on the Nascaupee. So after breakfast
George and I said good-bye to Donald and the rest of his household, and
three hours later were welcomed by Allen's wife. Again we received
every attention that kindly hearts could suggest. We remained at
Allen's two days while he and Duncan made a pair of oars and fitted up
the sailboat for our trip to the post. With the soap and warm water
and bandages provided by Mrs. Goudie I was able to dress my feet. One
foot especially had been affected, and from it I cut with a jack knife
much gangrenescent flesh.

It was on Thursday morning, November 5th, that George and I, warmly
dressed in Donald's and Allen's clothes, set sail in a snowstorm for
the post through the thin ice that was forming in the river. Upon
reaching Grand Lake we found the wind adverse and the snow so thick we
could not see our course, but after we had hovered about a fire on the
shore until well into the afternoon, the wind shifted to the west and
the storm abated, enabling us to proceed a little farther on our
journey, or until signs of approaching night compelled us to take
refuge in a trapper's tilt near Cape Blanc on the southern shore. This
was the tilt that George, in his struggle out, had supposed he would
have to reach to get help. It was about six by seven feet, and as it
contained a tent-stove we were able to make ourselves comfortable for
the night after our supper of tea and bread and butter and molasses
thoughtfully provided by Mrs. Goudie