ht axe, a few cooking
utensils, with a small stock of provisions, and of course their guns,
formed the bulk of their loads.

After leaving the Fort they kept for several days' journey up the
Saskatchewan. They then took leave of that river, and ascended a small
stream that emptied into it from the north. Making their first portage
over a "divide," they reached another small stream that ran in quite a
different direction, emptying itself into one of the branches of the
Mississippi, or Churchill River. Following this in a north-westerly
course, and making numerous other portages, they reached Lake La Crosse,
and afterwards in succession, Lakes Clear, Buffalo, and Methy. A long
"portage" from the last-mentioned lake brought them to the head of a
stream known as the "Clear Water;" and launching their canoe upon this,
they floated down to its mouth, and entered the main stream of the Elk,
or Athabasca, one of the most beautiful rivers of America. They were
now in reality upon the waters of the Mackenzie itself, for the Elk,
after passing through the Athabasca Lake, takes from thence the name of
Slave River, and having traversed Great Slave Lake, becomes the
Mackenzie--under which name it continues on to the Arctic Ocean. Having
got, therefore, upon the main head-water of the stream which they
intended to traverse, they floated along in their canoe with light
hearts and high hopes. It is true they had yet fifteen hundred miles to
travel, but they believed that it was all down-hill work now; and as
they had still nearly two months of summer before them, they doubted not
being able to accomplish the voyage in good time.

On they floated down-stream, feasting their eyes as they went--for the
scenery of the Elk valley is of a most picturesque and pleasing
character; and the broad bosom of the stream itself, studded with wooded
islands, looked to our travellers more like a continuation of lakes than
a running river. Now they glided along without using an oar, borne
onward by the current; then they would take a spell at the paddles,
while the beautiful Canadian boat-song could be heard as it came from
the tiny craft, and the appropriate chorus "Row, brothers, row!" echoed
from the adjacent shores. No part of their journey was more pleasant
than while descending the romantic Elk.

They found plenty of fresh provisions, both in the stream itself and on
its banks. They caught salmon in the water, and the silver-coloured
h