Now it
seemed that I might almost count on success.
As we continued our journey the river grew more and more
mysterious, ending apparently in each little lake, and keeping us
constantly guessing as to the direction in which our course would
next lead us. The inlet in the numerous expansions was unfailingly
concealed, so that not until we were almost upon it could it be
made out. Most mysterious of all was the last lake of our day's
journey, where the rush of the entering river could plainly be
seen, but appeared to come pouring forth from a great hole in the
side of a mountain. As the current swung round the upper end of
the lake it made the last half hour's work decidedly exciting. We
landed to camp for the night on the first portage since passing
Cascade Rapid, nearly twenty miles back.
We had caribou roast for supper, and, to my surprise, I found it
one of the most delicious things I had ever eaten, altogether
different from any venison I had before tasted. An astonishing
amount of that roast was stowed away before the camp was quiet for
the night.
The northern lights were that evening very brilliant. When I put
out my light at bed-time it was as if a bright moon was shining.
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