Towards evening our party was surprised by the appearance of a canoe some distance away, and not far from it, on a little island, an Indian camp. Shaping our course for the camp, a salute was fired, and was promptly answered by the Indians. Reaching the camp we were not a little astonished to find that some of the Indians were the very same men who had agreed to assist us over the portages out of Athabasca and Black Lakes. They had, no doubt, after meeting old Moberly, been prompted to leave us to shift for ourselves, and had returned in such a way as to avoid meeting us again. From them we now inquired for the Height of Land portage, and were pleased to learn that it was near at hand. Having obtained as much information from these fellows as we could, and arranged once more for three or four of them to assist us over in the morning, we pitched our own camp on a neighboring island.
During the evening most of the Indians paddled across to where we were, and from some of them sketch-maps and useful information were obtained; but their attention was chiefly devoted to filling the men with stories of the fearful dangers and certain disasters which we would encounter should we attempt to descend the Telzoa River. They said we would meet with great impassable canyons, and that the country through which it flowed was inhabited by savage tribes of Eskimos, who would undoubtedly eat us. These and similar stories produced a deep impression on the minds of some of our men, and might have given rise to serious trouble or even the disorganizing of the whole party. Jim went to my brother, and with a sad face un-
