In summer the fishers go up the lakes, as well as rivers, and are generally most successful at the foot of a deep stream, or the mouth of a creek. In the beginning of winter they cut a large opening, and set nets. In the depth of winter they make a small hole, in which they angle; and sometimes they cut two holes in a right line through the ice, and pass a line at the end of a stick from hole to hole, by which they haul the net under the ice, frequently with good success. In winter, fishing is the daily employ of half the men, though in very severe weather it is a fatiguing service. In the beginning of January, 1778, our provisions run short, having nothing left but some spawn of fish, which we beat up with {58} warm water and lived upon. The intense severity of the weather would not allow us to look after the nets; and although thus distressed for want of better food, we were obliged to stay at home, keeping a large fire, and lying almost continually on our blankets, which weakened us exceedingly. Having remained in this inactive state for some time, and hunger pressing hard, I roused myself, and proposed to my men to make marten traps, which they went about with the utmost cheerfulness. When they had finished a sufficient number, they set them in the woods, at the distance of about two miles from the house. While they were employed in this service, I was left alone, it being necessary for some one to remain, in case of the arrival of Savages. The first day my men were successful, and returned with two racoons, three hares, and four musquashes; on these we feasted the next day; and though we were not satisfied, they proved a seasonable relief, and enabled us to pursue the business we were engaged in with greater spirits, fondly expecting more prosperous days. In a little time we were again destitute, and the men became disheartened; this induced me to propose a journey to Lake Manontoye, where we knew Mr. Shaw,[57] a brother trader, had wintered, to endeavour to procure some wild rice, which the Indians told me grew in the swamps at that place. The Canadians approved of the plan, and said they hoped they should be able to provide for their subsistence till my return. Previous to my departure, we were compelled to kill a favourite dog, belonging to Joseph Boneau, one of my people, which most sensibly affected us, because, independent of the attachment we had towards him, he was a very useful animal. The next morning I put on my snow shoes, and persuaded an Indian and his wife, who were with {59} me occasionally, and had accidentally come in from the hunt with six hares, to accompany me, promising them payment in rum at my return: they agreed to go, and it was very fortunate they did, as I could not have found the way without a guide.