e shore of an island, but seldom were we
rewarded with more than a single namaycush, and so far from our getting
enough fish to carry us over our long portage to Lake Disappointment,
we did not catch enough for our daily needs, and were compelled to draw
on our little store of emergency provisions. On Wednesday (September
16th) we ate the last bit of bacon and the last handful of rice we had
so carefully hoarded. We succeeded that day in reaching the rapid
where we caught the few trout that some animal stole from us, and there
we camped. From this point we believed we could more readily gain the
bay where we had entered the lake, and begin our retreat when the wind
subsided.

The Canada jay, a carrion bird about the size Of a robin that is
generally known through the north as the "whiskey jack," had always
hovered about our camps and been very tame when, in the earlier days of
our trip, we had refuse to throw away; but now these birds called at us
from a greater distance, seeming to know we were looking at them with
greedy eyes. George told us that their flesh had saved many an Indian
from starvation, and that the Indians looked upon them with a certain
veneration and would kill them only in case of the direst need. Our
compunctions against eating carrion birds had entirely disappeared, and
the course of the whiskey jacks in holding aloof from camp when they
were most needed used to make George furious.

"See the blamed beggars!" he would ejaculate. "Just look at 'em! We've
been feedin' 'em right long, and now when it's their turn to feed us,
look at 'em go!"

On Thursday (September 17th) George got his revenge. Stealthily he
crept upon a whiskey jack in the bush and shot it with a pistol.
"They're pretty tough," he said, upon returning with his prize to camp,
"and will take a long time to cook." We did not care for that; we ate
that bird, bones and all, stewed in a big pot of water with two or
three spoonfuls of flour and an equal amount of pea meal.

That was our breakfast. We had no luncheon; for although we spent the
entire day trolling up and down the lee shore, it was not until evening
that we caught any fish. The wind was icy and set us all a-shiver, our
hands were benumbed by the cold water, and we were just beginning to
despair when we landed a two-pound namaycush, and a little later a
five-pounder. Then, wet to the skin and chilled to the bone, we
paddled back to camp, to cheer ourselves up with