The men were now almost lifting the canoe with every stroke of the paddles, and she threw the water from her bows like a little steamer.  We were soon up with the caribou, and I pulled my hat down over my eyes while the deed was done.  We were so close that George thought he would try to kill him with his pistol.  When I looked up, after the first shot, the caribou was ploughing through the water just as before.  After the second I could see him trembling and blood on the water—­but he was still going on.  Then I asked George to take his rifle and settle the matter quickly.  He did, and the sound of the water as the caribou made his way through it ceased.  I did not need to look again to know what had happened.  He was towed ashore, skinned and dressed, but how I wished I could think of him as speeding over his native hills, rather than as he was.  Yet, too, I knew it was well for us that we had secured the supply, of fresh meat, for although we had considerably more than half the original supply of provisions, we were still far from the journey’s end.

It was a three-year-old stag, Job said, and when the operation of skinning and cutting up had been performed, we had about 250 lbs. of fresh meat added to our supply.

The day was now fine, though occasional light showers passed; but these rather added to the beauty all about us than otherwise.  The river was proving a succession of lake expansions, for the most part not more than half a mile wide.  Rugged, barren mountains rose in all directions, and I had the feeling of being up among the hill-tops, as if these were not whole hills, but only their tops.  The trip was proving so beautiful and easy that my state of mind was one of continued surprise.  I had none of the feeling of loneliness, which I knew every one would expect me to have.  I did not feel far from home, but in reality less homeless than I had ever felt anywhere, since I knew my husband was never to come back to me.  So far I had encountered none of the real stress of wilderness life, everything had gone well with us, everything was made easy for me; I had had no hardships to bear, and there was the relief of work to do, work which would for ever associate my husband’s name with the country where he hoped to begin his explorations.  For long months of darkness I had not dreamed that I could ever have the gladness and honour of doing this.  Now it seemed that I might almost count on success.

As we continued our journey the river grew more and more mysterious, ending apparently in each little lake, and keeping us constantly guessing as to the direction in which our course would next lead us.  The inlet in the numerous expansions was unfailingly concealed, so that not until we were almost upon it could it be made out.  Most mysterious of all was the last lake of our day’s journey, where the rush of the entering river could plainly be seen, but appeared to come pouring forth from a great hole in the side of a mountain.  As the current swung round the upper end of the lake it made the last half hour’s work decidedly exciting.  We landed to camp for the night on the first portage since passing Cascade Rapid, nearly twenty miles back.