Gilbert had hoped to find an axe here, but although be hunted
everywhere there was none to be found. He did, however, get his
little frying-pan and a small pail which made a welcome addition to
our depleted outfit.
That day we portaged nearly all the afternoon. It was rough, hard
walking, and occasional showers fell which made it worse. There
was many a wistful glance cast across to the other shore where we
could see a fine sand terrace. There the walking must be smooth
and easy; but we could not cross, the rapids were too heavy.
During the afternoon we found the first and only fresh caribou
tracks seen in the lower Nascaupee valley. A pair of fish eagles,
circling high above us, screamed their disapproval of our presence
there. We saw their nest at the very top of a dead spruce stub,
some sixty feet or more above the ground. This was one of the very
many things on the trip which made me wish I were a man. I could
have had a closer look at the nest; I think I could have taken a
photograph of it too. Now and then came the sweet, plaintive song
of the white-throated sparrow.
Towards evening it began to rain fast, and as if with the intention
of keeping at it; so George called a halt.
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