Milton was still quite unfit to travel, and he was therefore obliged to remain behind, while Cheadle went to Carlton. We divided the food equally between us, and the latter set off with the Indians at once. They journeyed rapidly on for the first day, and Cheadle confidently expected to reach Carlton on the evening of the second. The cold, however, was so severe, that the Indians refused to stir in spite of all his entreaties, and sat cooking and eating the few fish there were until afternoon, replying to all his expostulations and suggestions that it would be better to leave some food for the morrow, with the eternal “Keyarm” (It’s all the same). After they had consumed all but two, he prevailed upon them to start, but after a few miles, they declared it was “osharm aimun” (too hard), alluding to the bitter cold, and camped again for the night. They had not yet got half way. Now the provisions were quite finished, and seeing the “Okey Mow” was really angry, they rose before daylight, not a whit uncomfortable or discontented with the knowledge that they had forty miles to march with empty stomachs, or pity for the unfortunate dogs who had now not tasted a morsel of food for two days. It was otherwise, however, with Cheadle. Toiling away on snow-shoes until noon, he experienced a wonderfully disagreeable sensation of emptiness, and a tendency to bend double; and his walking in this stooping attitude elicited frequent ridicule from the boy, who was vastly delighted, and kept crying, “Keeipah, keeipah” (Quickly, quickly). There was no help for it but to keep “pegging away,” and at dusk they gained the well-beaten trail about five miles from the Fort. Snow-shoes were doffed and tied on the sleighs; the dogs, knowing the end of the journey was near, set off at a gallop; and the “Muskeeky Okey Mow,” now quite recovered, astonished his companions by running ahead, and arriving first at the Fort. The next day, when the provisions were ready for the Indians to set out with at once to the relief of Milton, Keenamontiayoo was discovered to be in a state of intoxication. By noon he was sufficiently sobered to start on the journey, and promised to make all possible haste. He was very much ashamed of himself, and penitent withal, more particularly because he had parted with a valuable hunting-knife, which he prized very highly, for a teacupful of rum. It was one which the “Soniow Okey Mow” had given him on our return from the plains, as a reward for his good behaviour to us, and he had vowed never to part with it. A little rum offered to him by one of the half-breeds, who coveted the knife, overcame his resolution at once. The temptation is irresistible to an Indian.