pines near us.  St. Germain immediately said there must be some dead animal thereabouts and proceeded to search, when we saw several heads of deer half buried in the snow and ice without eyes or tongues, the previous severity of the weather having obliged the wolves and other animals to abandon them.  An expression of “Oh merciful God! we are saved,” broke from us both, and with feelings more easily imagined than described we shook hands, not knowing what to say for joy.  It was twilight and a fog was rapidly darkening the surface of the lake when St. Germain commenced making the encampment; the task was too laborious for me to render him any assistance and, had we not thus providentially found provision, I feel convinced that the next twenty-four hours would have terminated my existence.  But this good fortune in some measure renovated me for the moment and, putting out my whole strength, I contrived to collect a few heads and with incredible difficulty carried them singly about thirty paces to the fire.

Darkness stole on us apace and I became extremely anxious about Beauparlant; several guns were fired to each of which he answered.  We then called out and again heard his responses though faintly, when I told St. Germain to go and look for him as I had not strength myself, being quite exhausted.  He said that he had already placed a pine branch on the ice and he could then scarcely find his way back, but if he went now he should certainly be lost.  In this situation I could only hope that, as Beauparlant had my blanket and everything requisite to light a fire, he might have encamped at a little distance from us.

October 17.

The night was cold and clear but we could not sleep at all from the pains of having eaten.  We suffered the most excruciating torments though I in particular did not eat a quarter of what would have satisfied me; it might have been from using a quantity of raw or frozen sinews of the legs of deer, which neither of us could avoid doing, so great was our hunger.  In the morning, being much agitated for the safety of Beauparlant, I desired St. Germain to go in search of him and to return with him as quick as possible, when I would have something prepared for them to eat.

It was however late when he arrived, with a small bundle which Beauparlant was accustomed to carry and, with tears in his eyes, told me that he had found our poor companion dead.  Dead!  I could not believe him.  “It is so sir,” said St. Germain, “after hallooing and calling his name to no purpose I went towards our last encampment about three-quarters of a mile and found him stretched upon his back on a sandbank frozen to death, his limbs all extended and swelled enormously and as hard as the ice that was near him; his bundle was behind him as if it had rolled away when he fell, and the blanket which he wore around his neck and shoulders thrown on one side.  Seeing that there was no longer life in him I threw your covering over him and placed his snowshoes on the top of it.”