During the evening of the 6th and the morning of the 7th of December we crossed a succession of thirteen small lakes and some flat open plains, but the afternoon of the latter day saw a marked change in the character of the country. With the exception of two or three isolated patches, we had seen nothing in the shape of timber of any value since leaving York—indeed, I might say since leaving Churchill, or even a thousand miles or so farther back on the road. But now we had reached a heavy forest of white spruce, jack-pine, poplar and birch trees, and the change was a pleasing one.
For a distance of six or eight miles we trudged through this heavy forest, and then, just at night-fall, reached the shore of Back Lake, really an extension of Oxford Lake. One of my brother's feet had become so sore during the day that he had been obliged to walk with only one showshoe. On this account we had fallen several miles behind the leaders of the party, and when we arrived at the shore of the lake above described, nothing could we see of the outfit, and both because of darkness and the hard surface of the snow, it was with great difficulty we were able to follow the track. It led away across the lake, and for a time we managed to follow it. While doing so we carefully noted its bearing, but soon the faint tracks could no longer be followed, for the night was becoming dark. We feared to lose them, as there might be a change in their course and then our bearing would not lead us aright. For a time, upon hands and knees, we tried to follow the trail, but could not keep upon it continuously.
