We had not advanced many miles farther, when some deer were noticed at no great distance, feeding on the banks of a stream. Being desirous of procuring some venison if possible, I sent Corrigal (who, with other good qualities, was a very fair shot) after them, and he was fortunate enough to shoot a fine buck. But the buck, though wounded, could still run too fast to be overtaken, and the sportsman was just about to give up the chase when I joined him, and we continued the pursuit together. The deer, having got a considerable way in advance, had lain down, but rose up before we could get within good shooting distance, and was trotting off at a great pace, when, by way of giving him a parting salute, I fired, and very luckily sent a ball through his head, which dropped him. His horns were already about a foot long, and the venison was in fine order for the season of the year.
I immediately returned to the men, who had been busily employed collecting fuel, of which great quantities grew along the borders of the creek, and sent two of them to assist in skinning and cutting up the deer, whilst I and the other men continued to gather heather, as we now anticipated great doings in the kitchen. We placed the greater part of our venison "en cache," but kept the head, blood, leg bones, &c., for present use; and being determined to lose nothing, the stomach was partially cleaned by rubbing it with snow, and then cut up and boiled, which thus made a very pleasant soup, there being enough of the vegetable contents of the paunch to give it a fine green colour, although I must confess that, to my taste, this did not add to the flavour. Having discussed this mess, a second kettle full was prepared, composed of the blood, brains, and some scraps of the meat, which completed our supper.
It is well known that both Esquimaux and Indians are very fond of the contents of the paunch of the rein-deer, particularly in the spring, when the vegetable substances on which the animal feeds are said to be sweeter tasted. I have often seen our hunter, Nibitabo, when he had shot a deer, cut open the stomach, and sup the contents with as much relish as a London alderman would a plate of turtle soup.
The position of our snow-house was in latitude 68° 33' 26" N., longitude 85° 20' 30" W., both by account.
The weather was so stormy during the 23rd that we could not continue our journey. The thermometer rose as high as +39° in the shade, and the melting of the snow having wet the heather, we were obliged to have recourse to alcohol. Three or four snow buntings and traces of partridges (tetrao rupestris) were seen.
On the 24th it still blew a gale of wind from the east, but there being a partial thaw by the high temperature, there was no drift, and much of the ground was entirely cleared of snow.
In the evening the weather became more moderate, and the thermometer fell to 5° below the freezing point. We started at a few minutes after 10 o'clock, our course being slightly to the east of north. The travelling was still very fatiguing, as we were frequently forced to pass over the rocks, or to walk along the steep drift banks, in order to avoid the rough ice which had been heaped up against the shore. We passed a number of small bays and points, and when we had advanced fifteen miles, came to a high cape, which forms the N.W. promontory of a bay five miles in extent. To the cape I gave the name of M'Loughlin, after the gentleman who has been for many years in charge of the Columbia department, and the bay was called after my much valued friend Nicol Finlayson, Esq., Chief Factor. After passing Cape M'Loughlin we turned to the eastward, toward the head of the bay, and stopped at 7 A.M. near the mouth of a creek, where we took up our quarters for the day.
There was not so much fuel to be found as at our last encampment, but we gathered enough to boil our kettle. Some bands of deer and a few partridges were observed, but we did not waste time in endeavouring to get a shot at them. Since leaving Fort Hope not a day had passed without more or less snow falling, which made the travelling much more difficult than I expected, and our progress consequently so much slower, that, notwithstanding the addition I had made to our stock of provisions, there was some danger of our still running short. I therefore decided on leaving two of the men here to fish and shoot, whilst I went forward with the others.
There was a little snow falling when, along with Corrigal and Matheson, I set out at 10 P.M. on the 25th. The night was mild (6° below freezing) with a light wind from the east. A walk of two miles brought us to a head land, which formed the north side of Finlayson Bay, and which extended seven miles in a W.N.W. direction. To this cape the name of Richardson was given, after the distinguished naturalist, who, having already exposed himself to many dangers and privations in the cause of science, is now about to incur similar hardships in the cause of humanity and friendship, by searching for Sir John Franklin and his gallant party, whose situation, it is too much to be feared, is a critical one.
At the place where we crossed Cape Richardson it was not more than a mile wide, and we found ourselves in a large bay, thickly studded with high and rugged islands. A chain of these islands, which lay outside of us, and to which I gave the name of Pomona, (after the largest island of the Orcadian group,) had effectually served as a barrier to the ice from seaward, and had thus made the walking much smoother than we had hoped to find it. As we advanced there were many tracks of polar bears, and also those of a wolverine, that appeared to follow them very closely, expecting no doubt to appropriate some portion of whatever prey they might catch. A flock of long-tailed ducks passed us, flying to the westward, towards some open water, the vapour exhaled from which appeared in that direction.