thought of turning back. Daring starvation, we should
on the morrow start overland and see what lay beyond the hills to the
northward. "Michikamau or Bust!" was still our slogan.

IX. AND THERE WAS MICHIKAMAU!

From the northwesterly end of Lake Disappointment we portaged on Friday
(August 28) across a neck of land to two small, shallow lakes that lay
to the northward, and in the teeth of a gale paddled to the northern
shore of the farther lake. There we went into camp for the day in
order that Hubbard might rest, as he was still weak from the effects of
his recent illness. We took advantage of the opportunity to patch up
our moccasins and clothing as best we could, and held a long
consultation, the outcome of which was, that it was decided that for
the present, at least, we should leave behind us our canoe and the bulk
of our camp equipment, including the tent, and push on with light
packs, consisting of one blanket for each man, an axe, the two pistols,
one rifle, and our stock of food.

Before us there apparently stretched miles of rough, rocky country. Our
equipment and stock of food at this time made up into four packs of
about 100 pounds each. The canoe, water-soaked and its crevices filled
with sand, must now have weighed nearly a hundred pounds. It was a
most awkward thing to carry over one's head when the wind blew, and
where there were rocks there was danger of the carrier falling and
breaking, not only the canoe, but his own bones. This meant that if
our entire outfit were taken along, practically every bit of land we
travelled would have to be covered twice. In leaving the canoe behind,
we, of course, should have to take chances on meeting intervening
lakes; but, once in the region of northern Michikamau, there seemed a
fair chance of our falling in with Indians that would take us down the
George River, and the advantages of light travel were obvious with
winter fast approaching.

The stock of food we had to carry would not weigh us down. The dried
venison had been reduced to a few pounds, so that we had to eat of it
sparingly and make our principal diet on boiled fish and the water in
which it was cooked. We had just a bit of flour, enough to serve bread
at rare intervals as a great dainty. Nothing remained of our caribou
tallow and marrow grease. It is true we held in reserve the "emergency
ration"; but this consisted only of eighteen pounds of pea meal, a pint
of rice, and a small pie