more scattered, and of more stunted growth. On this account it is impossible to lay down any definite line as the limit of the forest. Outlying patches of spruce and tamarack might still be found here and there in the most favored localities, but as a whole the country was now a vast, rolling, treeless wilderness.
On the evening of the 28th of July we reached the north end of an expansion of the river, named Barlow Lake. Our supply of meat was already running low. Being quite unable to carry provisions with us for the whole trip, we had, in starting, taken only a limited quantity of this kind of food, trusting to our ability to replenish the supply from time to time by the way. Up to this time, however, we had seen nothing in the shape of game since leaving Lake Athabasca, excepting the one black bear, and he made good his escape. Plenty of old deer-tracks were to be seen, but not a single deer, and in consequence we were beginning to feel some anxiety. If game should not be found within a week or ten days, we would have to return, or proceed with the probability before us of starvation.
We had only begun to think seriously on this question when on the evening above-mentioned, just as we had gone ashore to camp, a moving object was noticed on a little island out in the lake. By means of our field-glasses we could tell it was a deer, and I need hardly say that no time was lost in manning a canoe and pulling for the island. As we approached the deer watched us closely, and soon satisfied of danger, bounded into the air, galloped to the farther side of the island, plunged into the water, and struck out for the nearest shore. The rate at which the frightened animal tore its way
