We saw tracks of moose and cariboo; also a few foxes, and hundreds of white partridge.
At the southerly end of Oxford Lake we found a single camp of Indians, and stopped with them for the night.
They feasted us on young beaver, which was an agreeable change from pemmican.
There were seventeen of us in that camp for the night. It was circular, and may have been twelve feet in diameter. On the ground we lay, with our feet to the fire.
During the night I felt my foot very hot, and springing up, found that my part of the blanket was burned through, and my duffil sock was on fire.
This was another "tenderfoot" experience.
These people were Christians, and delighted to see father and listen to his counsel and exhortation.
The next day we reached Jackson's Bay, where we received from Mr. and Mrs. Stringfellow, the missionary and his wife, a very hearty welcome.
If Norway House, with its one mail in six months and its small community of English-speaking people, is thought out of the world, where would you place Jackson Mission? This little man and his good wife (and for a good part of the year many of the Indians away from the mission) and the Hudson's Bay Company's post, with its small company, are fifteen miles distant in winter, and, I should judge, twice that in summer.
Why, Norway House is on the front compared with this!