the left.  I raised sights to limit and held high.  Did not think of sport, but grub, and was therefore cool.  As first shot George said, “Good, you hit him.”  He started to sink, but walked up a bank very slowly.  I shot two more times, Wallace once and missed.  George and I landed and started towards spot.  Found caribou down, trying to rise.  Shot him in breast, cut throat.  George made stage for drying.  Wallace and I dressed caribou.  Wallace put up tent.  I started meat from bones in good strips to dry.  Then all sat down and roasted steaks on sticks, and drank coffee, and were supremely happy.  We will get enough dried meat to give us a good stock.

Thursday, August 13th.—­Worked at getting caribou skin tanned in A.M.  Ate steak for breakfast, liver for dinner, ribs for supper.  No bread, just meat.  Wallace and I started in canoe to look for fish and explore a bit.  Found rapid 2 miles above.  Very short, good portage, old wigwam, good water ahead.  Too cold to fish.  Cloudy day, but got blankets aired and dried.  River seems to run to northeast of ridge of quite high mountains, 6 to 10 miles ahead.  Very tired or lazy to-day.  May be meat diet, may be relaxation from month of high tension.  Think the latter.  Mended pants.  One leg torn clear down the front.  Patched with piece of flour sack.

Friday, August 14th.—­George and Wallace left in canoe with tin cups, tea and some caribou ribs, to scout river above and climb hills.  I put some ashes and water on caribou skin.  Just starting to shed.  Studied map and Low’s book.  Wish we could descend this river on way out and map it.

Saturday, August 15th.—­Cloudy again this morning.  Sprinkle or two.  Wallace and George not back.  Wallace and George came at dusk; tired out and none too hopeful.  Found stream coming from a little lake with two inlets.  Followed one west to mountains; it turned to a brook, ended in mountains.  Other went so much east they fear it ends in lakes there.  Think maybe they lost the river.  Hungry as bears.  Stayed out to explore this east branch.  The three days’ inaction and their story of doubtful river, depressed me.  If the way to Michikamau is still so doubtful, after more than four weeks of back-breaking work, when will we get there, and when to the caribou grounds, and when home?  I’d like to be home to-night and see my girl and the people, and eat some bread and real sweet coffee or tea or chocolate.  How hungry I am for bread and sweets!

Sunday, August 16th.—­Wind has changed at last to north.  Not much of it.  Clear and bright in early morning.  Clouded at noon, so I am not sure my observation was just right, close to it though I think. 53 degrees 46 minutes 30 seconds.  Have been coming nearly west, an angle to south and another to north.  Last observation possible was two weeks ago to-day.  Feel fine to-day.  Good rest and good weather and grub are bully.  Figure that east branch the boys saw must be Low’s Northwest River, and must break through the mountains somewhere a little north.  Anyway it can’t run much east and must take us north and west through lake expansions close to the mountains.  Then if it ends, it’s up to us to portage over to the lake expansions Low sees on his Northwest River flowing out of Michikamau.  Scraped flesh from caribou skin.