Fortunately partridges proved abundant, and on these we subsisted during our forced encampment. A fine otter four feet in length was shot near camp, but his flesh proved too fishy for us, half-famished as we were. A large hawk frightened by our voices, dropped from his talons a trout of over two pounds in weight, suggesting to our minds Israelitish experience.
A SKY PICTURE.
Among all trying circumstances we kept at work, and cheered one another by incessant jokes on the situations.
At last the “shoeing” of the canoes was accomplished, and repacking our luggage, we paddled down the dead water of Mansungun Stream, and passed falls five miles below.
Although the morning was lowery, we little thought we had selected the worst day of the entire tour for the passage of the river; but so it proved.
Soon the heavens grew dark, the birds sought shelter in the wooded depths, the wind howled among the tall forest trees, and the rain, beginning first with light showers, increased at last in volume to a perfect deluge.
In the midst of this we were obliged to disembark from our canoes and drag them through the rocky bed of the river, and the good results of the “shoeing” at once became manifest.
“You look out for the bow, me look out for stern,” yelled Nichols, as crowding my canoe forward over the ledges of rocks and through the shallow water of the stream we pushed onward, followed by the remainder of the party.
