At noon we reached our old camp, the last where all had been together. Here we put up a monument on a tree, and were mortified to think we had not done so at our farthest camp.
There were numbers of Yellowlegs breeding here; we were surprised to see them resting on trees or flying from one branch to another.
A Great Gray-owl sitting on a stump was a conspicuous feature of our landscape view; his white choker shone like a parson's.
Early in the morning we saw a Kingbird. This was our northernmost record for the species.
We pressed on all day, stopping only for our usual supper of Moose and tea, and about 7 the boys were ready to go on again. They paddled till dark at 10. Camped in the rain, but every one was well pleased, for we had made 40 miles that day and were that much nearer to flour.
This journey had brought us down the Nyarling and 15 miles down the Buffalo.
It rained all night; next morning the sun came out once or twice but gave it up, and clouds with rain sprinklings kept on. We had struck a long spell of wet; it was very trying, and fatal to photographic work.
After a delicious, appetising, and inspiring breakfast of straight Moose, without even salt, and raw tea, we pushed on along the line of least resistance, i.e., toward flour.
A flock of half a dozen Bohemian Waxwings were seen catching flies among the tall spruce tops; probably all were males enjoying a stag party while their wives were home tending eggs or young.
Billy shot a female Bufflehead Duck; she was so small-only 8 inches in slack girth—that she could easily have entered an ordinary Woodpecker hole. So that it is likely the species nest in the abandoned holes of the Flicker. A Redtailed Hawk had its nest on a leaning spruce above the water. It was a most striking and picturesque object; doubtless the owner was very well pleased with it, but a pair of Robins militant attacked him whenever he tried to go near it.