Way altogether; and if
it snows again to-night I may not be able to find him in the
morning."
So I stayed till he came and told him why I waited for him. He was
glad and said sure he would not know my trail from the caribou,
which would perhaps lead him out of the way. So we sat down and
ate some more of the partridge raw.
Mr. Wallace says, "I just fancy that I never ate something so good
in my life."
We could have camped right there where I killed the partridge, as
we would have something for our supper; but what I wanted to find
out too was - Is the flour there I wonder. If we did not get there
it would be in my mind all the time, "I wonder if the flour is
there." It got dark and we still travelled. Wallace would often
ask me, "How far is it from here to the flour?" "How far is it to
the flour?"
At last I knew we were coming to it. We had not a mark, or never
put it at some particular place; but we have just thrown it away.
Anyway we thought we would never come past there again. It was
late in the night when we came to the flour. I was not very sure
of it myself. I put down my little load.
Wallace said, "Is this the place?"
I said, "Yes."
So I went to where I thought we had left the flour. I dug down
into the snow and just came on it. It was, of course, in one solid
lump and black with mould. We got our knife and broke it off in
bits and ate quite a bit. We were just about played out when we
came to the flour. If I hadn't killed the partridge we would never
have got to the flour.
We gathered some wood and made a fire. No trees at all so as to
break the wind. All barren and the wind sharp, and clear night.
We gathered enough wood for the night, and had the rest of the
partridge, and also some flour soup in our little tea pail, and
only wishing Mr. Hubbard was with us to enjoy the meal too. We
thought and talked about Mr. Hubbard all the time, although at the
same time having poor hopes of him. Mr. Wallace nearly blind and
suffering with his eyes.
I sat up all night and kept on a fire. I was very uneasy about
Wallace and afraid be would not be able to go back to Mr. Hubbard
with the flour; but in the morning he was better and we did some
patching on our old moccasins.
