Joe And Gilbert Put Up The Tents, While Down At Our Camp Fire At The Shore George Made The Bannocks And Job Skinned, Dressed, And Cooked The Porcupine.

When it grew so dark that I could not see to write I went to help cook bannocks.

It seemed good to be near the fire too, for it was growing cold. George and Job chatted merrily in Indian, Job evidently, as fond of fun as George. The fun suddenly came to an end, however, when Gilbert came down to say that the tube of my bed-pump was missing. It was too true. The thing was not to be found anywhere. It had been dropped when the stuff was handed down the bank in the morning.

It seemed a quite serious matter to me, knowing as I did from past experience that I cannot sleep on the ground long without growing very tired, when I lose my nerve and am afraid to do anything. I did not like to think of the possibility of either growing desperate and wanting to turn back or breaking down under the strain of going on. Some one would have to go back for the tube, and time was precious now. It would be trying to lose a day. While I sat rather disconsolate considering the situation, George conceived the brilliant idea of having Gilbert turn himself into an air-pump, which he did quite cheerfully, and very soon my bed was as tight and firm as need be, and peace reigned again.

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