He asked me, “How far yet to the flour?”

“About 2 miles,” I said.

“Well I think you had better go along and not wait for me any more.  I will try and follow your trail.  You go lots faster than I do.  Go on while it is yet light, and see if you can find the flour; because if you cannot get there to-night may be you will not be able to go any farther should we live to see morning.”

I said, “Yes, that is just what I was going to tell you, the reason why I waited here for you.”

I started off.  I went about 40 yards.  Came across a partridge.  I got my pistol and fired and killed him.  Oh, how glad I was!  Mr. Wallace came to me.  He was more than glad, and just ate part of him raw, which freshened us up a great deal.

Then he said, “You can go on again and don’t delay on me.”

I came on some caribou trail (it was then getting dark) and quite fresh, which run in all directions.  I stood and thought, “When Wallace comes here be will not know my trail from the caribou trail; and if he cannot come to me to-night, if he follow the caribou trail it might lead him out of the way altogether; and if it snows again to-night I may not be able to find him in the morning.”

So I stayed till he came and told him why I waited for him.  He was glad and said sure he would not know my trail from the caribou, which would perhaps lead him out of the way.  So we sat down and ate some more of the partridge raw.

Mr. Wallace says, “I just fancy that I never ate something so good in my life.”

We could have camped right there where I killed the partridge, as we would have something for our supper; but what I wanted to find out too was—­Is the flour there I wonder.  If we did not get there it would be in my mind all the time, “I wonder if the flour is there.”  It got dark and we still travelled.  Wallace would often ask me, “How far is it from here to the flour?” “How far is it to the flour?”

At last I knew we were coming to it.  We had not a mark, or never put it at some particular place; but we have just thrown it away.  Anyway we thought we would never come past there again.  It was late in the night when we came to the flour.  I was not very sure of it myself.  I put down my little load.

Wallace said, “Is this the place?”

I said, “Yes.”

So I went to where I thought we had left the flour.  I dug down into the snow and just came on it.  It was, of course, in one solid lump and black with mould.  We got our knife and broke it off in bits and ate quite a bit.  We were just about played out when we came to the flour.  If I hadn’t killed the partridge we would never have got to the flour.

We gathered some wood and made a fire.  No trees at all so as to break the wind.  All barren and the wind sharp, and clear night.  We gathered enough wood for the night, and had the rest of the partridge, and also some flour soup in our little tea pail, and only wishing Mr. Hubbard was with us to enjoy the meal too.  We thought and talked about Mr. Hubbard all the time, although at the same time having poor hopes of him.  Mr. Wallace nearly blind and suffering with his eyes.