the feasibility of this route. I named the river after Mr. Thomas B.
Connery, of New York.

We resumed our walk, turning back along the bank of the river, which on
the east side is high and almost perpendicular. We reached the portage,
about three miles to the south, and crossed over to the west side,
which is a low, rolling country, covered with moss, which at a distance
looked like sun-burned grass. The portage was nearly a quarter of a
mile wide, but by the exercise of some agility, where the current ran
most swiftly through the large rocks, we got over without wetting our
feet, and about a mile from the river bank stopped to rest on a rocky
eminence. "Alex" pointed vaguely in the direction of some hills about
two or three miles away, and said he thought there were some deer over
there; but as I had been walking three days now without seeing a deer,
and was desperately tired, I told him to go on if he wanted to, and
take my rifle, and I would wait till he came back. He trotted along,
and I sat under the lee of a rock, taking advantage of the opportunity
to write up my journal and trace the course of the river. In the
meantime the sun sank lower and lower, but no signs of "Alex Taylor."
About three hours after he left me he reappeared, with his hat in
his hand and a heavy bundle over his shoulder, trotting along so
nimbly that I envied him. He had shot two deer, a "cooney" and an
"isaacer"--that is, a doe and a buck--and he had their warm, bloody
skins on his back. He said that there were plenty of deer over there,
and to-morrow we would move the camp up to that spot. So we put the
skins and some tenderloin in a cairn, and covered it up with heavy
stones, and after eating some of the raw tenderloin we started for
home. It was long after dark when we reached there, and I was glad to
find Sam's tupic already up, with his old father and young mother, and
my blankets and a little package of salt, which I had missed very much