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.
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