Awful Walking. Very Tired When About To Top.

Wondering about next meal and thinness of soup mostly to blame, I guess.

Then things began to get good. First we ran across a flock of ten ptarmigan. They were in the burned-over semi-barren of the hill-top. They seem to lack entirely the instinct to preserve themselves by flying. Only ran ahead, squatting in apparent terror every few feet. We followed with our pistols. I killed eight and George one, my last was the old bird, which for a time kept away from us, running harder than the rest, trying to hide among the Arctic shrubs. George says they are always tame on a calm day. Their wings are white, but the rest is summer's garb. "Not rockers, but the real kind," says George. Then we went on across the mountain top and looked west. _There was_ MICHIKAMAU! And that's what made it a BIG DAY. A series of lake expansions runs east from it. We can see them among flat drift islands, cedar covered, and a ridge south, and a hill and the high lands north, and apparently a little river coming from the north, and pouring into the lake expansions some miles east of Michikamau. There is one main channel running east and south, in this expansion. It is north of the waters we are now in, and we can see no connection. However, there looks as if there might be one about 5 miles east of our big hill. Behind some barren ridges, about 50 feet high. So we are making for them to see what we can find. If no connection, we must portage, but we will not mind a little portage now, with Michikamau waters just over it. Westward from our hill are dozens of little lakes, and a good deal of low burned land. S.E. more lakes. Must be an easy portage from the lakes on which we were muddled two weeks ago. That's where we missed it, in not finding that portage.

Thursday, September 10th. - Wind west, cloudy. Temp. 5 A.M. 46 degrees. Rain in evening. Cut legs from old drawers and pulled them over pants as leggings. Went east looking for opening in N.W. River. Think we saw it in ridge to northeast, came S.W. Believe that we saw also opening into Michikamau's Bay which runs out of lake on S.E. side. Wind delayed, and we only got to foot of mountain from which we expect to see it. Camped. Rain commenced. While scouting I shot a large spruce partridge with pistol.

Friday, September 11th. - Raining in morning. Wind southwest. Temp. 49 degrees. Ate last meal of mother's sweet dried apples. We are on the verge of success apparently, in sight of Michikamau from which it is not far to the caribou grounds and the Nascaupees. Yet we are sick at heart at this long delay and the season's lateness and our barefoot condition. Yet no one hints at turning back.

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