I Spent Nearly The Whole Afternoon Watching The Storm, Running To Cover Only While The Showers Passed.

When we gathered for supper in the evening Job was holding a pot over the fire, and did not move to get his plate and cup with the rest.

George gave me my plate of soup, and when I had nearly finished it Job set the pot down beside me, saying gently: "I just set this right here." In the pot were three fried cakes, crisp and hot and brown, exactly as I liked them.

There was much speculation as to what we should find at the head of Lake Michikamats, and I wondered how much scouting there would be to do to find the George River waters. If only we could see the Indians. Time was slipping away all too fast; the last week in August was not far distant, and the George River waters might not be easy to find. The days were becoming increasingly anxious for me. Our caribou meat was nearly gone, and a fresh supply of game would have been very welcome. There would be a chance to put out the nets when we reached the head of the lake, and the scouting had to be done. The nets had not yet touched the water.

In the night the wind veered to the north and a steady rain set in, which was still falling when morning came. All were up late for it was too stormy to travel, and rest still seemed very good.

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