and slept soundly. At dawn I arose, built a
fire, repaired my compass, and ate a cup of porridge. I was not
frightened, because with my compass again in working order I knew I
should have no difficulty in finding the river, which must be somewhere
to the south and which must lead me back to camp. So to the southward
I took my course, pushing my way through thick brush and over marshes
where the ground under my feet went up and down like the waves of the
sea.

Towards noon I reached a barren hill, and from its summit saw the river
just beyond and the site of one of our old camping places that I knew
was eighteen miles below our last camp. Down to the shore of the river
I hurried, and built a fire for luncheon. The partridge at my belt had
been torn into shreds by the bushes, and again a cup of porridge had to
serve me for a meal. It was dark when I reached camp, to find Hubbard
greatly worried and George away looking for me.

There had been some good-natured arguments between Hubbard and me as to
the merits of our respective compasses, and as he now appeared to have
the better of it, he took advantage of the occasion to chaff me
unmercifully. Then when George returned they both had fun with me for
getting lost.

"That's all right," I said, "your turn, Hubbard, will come later. You
haven't been lost yet, because you haven't been out of sight of camp
alone. Anyway, I just stayed out for a quiet evening by myself."

My absence on Friday did not delay our progress any; for Hubbard was
still unable to travel. On Saturday (July 25) he had not yet fully
recovered, but he decided to push forward. A drizzling rain was
falling as we started. Each of us carried a load some four miles up
the valley and returned; and then Hubbard, with a second load, went
ahead to make camp, while George and I, with the remainder of the
baggage, endeavoured to drag the canoe upstream. Darkness came on when
we were two miles below camp. While fording the river, I was carried
off my feet by the current and nearly swept over the fall with a pack
around my neck.

Then George and I left the canoe on the bank for the night, and each
with his pack proceeded to push his way through the thick willows and
alders and over the rocks. It was so dark we could not see each other.
Falling down constantly and struggling to our feet again, we stumbled
on through the pitchy blackness and down-pouring rain, until suddenly
we discerned the glowing lig