Wednesday, August 19th.—­Noon 53 degrees 50 minutes.  Bright, clear in A.M.  Southeast wind brought clouds.  Began to rain as we went to bed.  Spent whole day river hunting, paddling from arm to arm of the lakes.  George and I climbed high barren ridge.  Red berries and a few blue berries.  Flock ptarmigan, rockers.  I shot three with pistol, old one, two young, but could fly.  Saw more mountains on all sides.  Many lakes to east.  Failure to find river very depressing to us all.  Seems to end in this chain of lakes.  Will retrace our way to last rapid to be sure, and failing to find stream, will start west up a creek valley on a long portage to Michikamau.  Boys ready for it.  I fear it will make us late, but see no other way.  Glad Wallace and George are game.  A quitter in the crowd would be fierce.

Thursday, August 20th.—­Rain last night.  Cloudy in A.M.  Rain P.M. and night.  Wind south.  Stopped to mend moccasins and give caribou a bit more drying before we start to cross mountains.  Looked ahead and saw two more lakes.  May be a good deal of lake to help us.  Mended moccasins with raw caribou skin.  While George got lunch I took sixteen trout, fin for bait.  In P.M.  Wallace and I took canoe and went back over course to last rapid, exploring to see that we had not missed river.  Sure now we have not.  So it’s cross mountains or bust, Michikamau or BUST. Wallace and I came upon two old loons and two young.  Old tried to call us from young.  Latter dived like fish.  Caught one.  Let it go again.  We caught eighty-one trout at last rapid in about an hour, mostly half-pounders; fifteen about pounders, hung to smoke.  Big feed for supper.  Rest for to-morrow.  Rained good deal.  Sat under drying stage with a little fire, tarpaulin over us and had big supper—­fried trout, trout roe, loaf of bread, coffee.  Last of coffee.  Hate to see it go.  Little sugar left.  A bit in morning and evening cups.

Friday, August 21st.—­Rain all day.  Wind changed to north, colder.  Portaged to little lake above camp.  Found wigwams at each end of portage.  Looks like old Montagnais trail.  Then more lakes and short portages.  Made 4 miles very easily, then, after pot of tea and big trout feed, portaged 1 mile west to another little lake, just over Height of Land.  Our stream tumbles off the mountain, and does not come from this last-named lake at all.  Little 4-foot ridge turns it.  Went into camp very early, chilled through.

Saturday, August 22nd.—­Portaged across Height of Land.  Delighted to find on end of lake to westward many Indian signs.  Believe this enters southeast bay of Michikamau, or a lake connected with it.  Rained hard by spells.  West wind.  Camped on island early in P.M. after a very short march, to repair canoe, and to wait for head wind to fall.  Caribou meat roasted at noon.  Two loaves of bread, dried apples and tea—­no meat or fish—­supper.