Sunday, August 23rd.—West wind. Rain and clear by spells. Drank last of chocolate—two pots—for breakfast. Dried blankets in a sunny spell, and about 10 A.M. started. Coming to point round which we expected to get view of lake ahead—"Like going into a room where there is a Christmas tree," said George. Narrow channel around point 2 1/2 miles from east end. Thence we saw a long stretch of lake running west. Believe it Michikamau's S.E. bay sure. Mighty glad. Ate boiled dried caribou, pea soup, tea. Dried caribou hurts our teeth badly. Went west 2 1/2 miles and climbed barren hill on north side of lake. Ate blue berries, bake- apple berries, and moss berries. Saw on north, water in big and little masses, also on N.W. many islands of drift, rocky and spruce clad. One long stretch of lake, like a river, runs east and west, about 2 miles north. Wonder if it is Low's Northwest River. Went west on our lake 3 miles. Caught a fish like pike, with big square head, 3 1/2 lbs. Found our lake ends, stream falling in from another lake west. Came back 2 miles to outlet into waters north. Camped. All feel bully. On Michikamau waters sure.
Monday, August 24th.—Rain, north wind, cold. In camp all day. Bad head wind. George and I scouted. All restless at inactivity but George. He calm, philosophical, cheerful, and hopeful always— a wonderful man.
Tuesday, August 25th.—Cold N.E. wind. Rain. Made start. Nasty portage into Northwest River (?). Wallace turned round and started to carry his pack back. Wind fair part of time. Part of time dangerously heavy. Landed on point running out from north shore. Wigwam poles. Have diarrhoea. All chilled. Not sure of way ahead, but not worried. Camped at 5 P.M. Nice camp in clump of balsam. Not craving bread so much. Idleness and a chance to think make us hungrier. Flies about gone. Proverb—On a wet day build a big fire.
Wednesday, August 26th.—Temp. at 5 A.M. 40 degrees. Bright and clear save for one shower in P.M. Started happy. Shot goose with pistol after long chase. Goose would dive repeatedly. Shot several times at rather long range. Paddled 20 to 25 miles on big lake running east and west. No outlet west. Came back blue and discouraged. Passed our camp of last night to climb a mountain on N.E. side. Caught very pretty 2-lb. pike trolling. Wallace and I got supper. George went to climb mountain, found river this side (west) of mountain, running into this lake from N.W. What is it? Low's Northwest River? Can't see what else. Glad again. Very hopeful. Sick and very weak. Diarrhoea. Pea meal and venison and goose liquor. Better. Bright northern lights.
Thursday, August 27th.—Bright and lightly clouded by spells. No rain. Northwest River panned out only a little stream. N.G. Guess we must portage. Desperate. Late in season and no way to Michikamau. One more try for inlet, and then a long nasty portage for the big lake. See little hope now of getting out before winter. Must live off country and take big chances. Camping near where we camped last night. Going up Northwest River and hunting outlets some more, took our time. Ran across geese this A.M. I went ashore and George and Wallace chased them close by. Shot leader with rifle. Then two young ones head close in shore. I killed one with pistol and two others started to flop away on top of water. Missed one with pistol, and killed other. While exploring a bay to N.W., we landed to climb ridge. George found three partridges. I shot one, wounded another, pistol. Camped to- night cheerful but desperate. All firm for progress to Michikamau. All willing to try a return in winter. Discussed it to-night from all sides. Must get a good place for fish and caribou and then freeze up, make snowshoes and toboggans and moccasins and go. Late home and they will worry. Hungry for bread, pork and sugar. How I like to think at night of what I'll eat, when I get home and what a quiet, restful time I'll have. Flies bad by spells to-day.
Friday, August 28th.—Temp. 6 A.M. 56 degrees. Back to northwest end of lake where bay runs north. Portaged to small shoal lakes and camped on north side, ready to start in A.M. Fixed moccasins in preparation for long portage. Made observation of sun and moon to-night, hoping to get longitude. All very tired, but feel better now. No bread today. No sugar. Don't miss latter much, but hungry for bread. Good weather. Shower or two. Writing by camp fire.
Saturday, August 29th.—Temp. 6 A.M. 38 degrees. Am writing a starter here, before beginning our march north. Wallace and George at breakfast now. I'm not. Sick of goose and don't want it. Ate my third of a loaf of bread lumpy without grease and soggy, but like Huyler's bonbons to our hungry palates. Dreamed of being home last night, and hated to wake. Jumped up at first light, called boys and built fire, and put on kettles. We must be moving with more ginger. It is a nasty feeling to see the days slipping by and note the sun's lower declination, and still not know our way. Outlet hunting is hell on nerves, temper and equanimity. You paddle miles and miles, into bay after bay, bay after bay, with maybe no result till you are hopeless. Ugh! This is a great relief to be about to start north through the woods—fairly high ground to start with—on a hunt for Michikamau. Hope we will not have swamps. Lakes will probably stop us and make us bring up the canoe. Good evening and we are happy, despite fact that grub is short and we don't know our way and all that.
Sunday, August 30th.—Beautiful, clear Sunday, but no Sunday rest for us. I jumped up early, called George, and built fire. Started at 5.54 A.M., portaging from little lake to little lake, north and west, to where we know Michikamau must lie, somewhere. For two days we have heard geese flying. Thought our goose chases over, but to-day five walked down bank into water ahead of canoe on a small lake. Wounded two at one shot with rifle. Two old ones flew. Left wounded to chase third young one. Shot and killed it with pistol. Could not find wounded. Made 3 miles before dinner. Good. In P.M. about 1 1/4 miles more. Then reached range of semi- barren ridges, running east and west, and seeming to reach to barren mountains north. George and I climbed first ridge from a little lake, with blue green, ocean-coloured water. Heard stream ahead. Little river running through ponds. George went back for outfit and Wallace. These are trying days. We are not quite up to normal strength. I think too much routine of diet, lack grease, sugar and grain foods. The feeling of not knowing where we are or how to get out adds to our weakness, still we are all cheerful and hopeful and without fear. Glad all of us to be here. How we will appreciate home and grub when we get out. I crawl into blankets while the boys smoke their evening pipe. Then I think of M. and our home at Congers, and plan how she and I will go to Canada or Michigan or somewhere, for a two week's vacation when I get home. I wonder when that will be.
Monday, .August 31st.—Ice on cups this morning. Thermometer out of order. Lat. 53 degrees 57 minutes. I hate to see August end with us so far from the George River, or so perplexed as to the road. We are in camp now, on the stream we reached last night. I am writing and figuring in the early morning. The whole character of our country changes here. Ridges and hills extending into mountains on the north. Must know what lies there before we proceed. George will scout. Wallace and I will dry fish. While George was scouting, I lay in tent awhile, too weak to fish even. Fish not biting though. Oh, but I'll be happy to see Michikamau! George returned late. Climbed mountains to north. Reports fair line of travel to northwest, long lakes and tolerable portages. Will go that way, I think. Wallace got a few trout. George killed two partridges with my pistol.
Tuesday, September 1st.—West wind. Fair, warm. Very weak to-day. Our stuff so light now we can take all but canoe at one trip over portage. Have just crossed portage from lake by yesterday's camp, to other lakelet N.W. Boys gone back for canoe. I sit here and write. Very rough portaging here, all rocks and knolls. Little clear lakes between. Have to put canoe into water every 40 rods or so. Shot a plover with pistol to cook with George's partridges. Later. Made about 4 1/2 miles. Caught about thirty-five trout at edge of lake where stream empties.