Therefore when Micmac John told him how easily caribou could be killed
a day's journey to the northward, he thought that it would make a nice
Christmas surprise for his friends if he hauled a toboggan load of
venison down to the river tilt with him. True they had planned a hunt,
but that would take place after Christmas and he wanted to make them
happy on that day.

So after Micmac John left him on Friday night he prepared for an early
start to the caribou feeding grounds on Saturday morning.

We have seen the route he took across the lakes and timbered flats and
marshes to the place where he pitched his camp in the little clump of
diminutive fir trees almost twenty miles from his tilt. It was evening
when he reached there and up to this time, to his astonishment, he
had seen no signs of caribou. A few miles beyond the marsh he saw a
ridge of low hills running east and west and decided that the feeding
grounds of the animals must lie the other side of them.

He banked the snow around the tent to keep out the wind, broke an
abundant supply of green boughs for a bed, and cut a good stock of
wood for the day of rest. Two logs were placed in a parallel position
in the tent upon which to rest the stove that it might not sink in the
deep snow with the heat. Then it was put up, and a fire started, and
he was very comfortably settled for the night.

The unfamiliar and unusually bleak character of the country gave him a
feeling of restlessness and dissatisfaction when he arose on Sunday
morning and viewed his surroundings. It was quite different from
anything he had ever experienced before and he had a strong desire to
go out at once and look for the caribou, and if no signs of them were
found to turn back on Monday to the tilt. But then he asked himself,
would his mother approve of this? He decided that she would not, and,
said he: "'Twould be huntin' just as much as t' go shootin' and th'
Lard would be gettin' angry wi' me too."

That kept him from going, and he spent the day in the tent drawing
mind pictures of the little cabin home that he longed so much to see
and the loved ones that were there. The thought of little Emily, lying
helpless but still so patient, brought tears to his eyes. But all
would be well in the end, he told himself, for God was good and had
given him the silver fox he had prayed for that Emily might go and be
cured.

What a proud and happy day it would be for him when with his greatest
hopes fu