Hard time keeping warm at night.
Thursday, September 24th.--Temp. 28 degrees. N.E. wind. Snowing
in morning. Quite cold last night, but clear and crisp till toward
morning when it snowed. Blankets very damp, but by drying clothes
at fire and getting good and warm, we slept warm and well. Dreamed
M. and I were at Missanabie. How I do wish I could see her again
at home. Thinking too much maybe, about home now. Makes too big
contrast. Snow covered ground by noon. Disagreeable morning, but
a little crisp wintriness helped it some. Plodded along on a pea
soup breakfast, wondering what the outcome will be--a little.
Nasty weather makes one wonder--and thinking of M. and home. Then
came a happy event. George had said last night be could kill a
wild goose this A.M. if I would let him take rifle. Did so, half
convinced by his confidence, and knowing he was a big goose shooter
down on "The Bay." He had started ahead. Had seen flock light in
pond ahead. Wallace and I heard four shots. Came to where George
had left pack. He was coming with no goose. "You can kick me,"
said he, "but I got a goose." We took canoe to his pond. He had
killed one goose, which was drifting ashore, and wounded another,
which sat on shore and let George end it with a pistol.
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