Our party was made up of two classes of people; one out to examine timber, the other, to fish and have a good time. While crossing one of the portages, my brother-in-law, Frank L. Conkey, who knew almost nothing about canoeing or portaging, but was willing, and full of hard days' work, picked up two pack sacks, one of which was strapped to his shoulders, and the other was placed on top of his shoulders and the back of his head. Thus burdened, he started across Mud Portage, the footing of which, in places, was very insecure. At an unfortunate moment, he caught his foot in a root and tumbled, the top pack sack shooting over his head and breaking open at its fastenings, thus spilling its contents on the ground. All that could be found of these, were gathered together and replaced in the pack sack, and the journey was resumed. Mose Perrault was the cook, and on arriving at the camping ground at night, he began preparations for making bread and getting the evening meal. The pack sack that had broken open, originally contained two tin cans, one filled with baking powder, and the other, with fresh live worms buried in earth, that had been gathered for bait for the fishing party. Perrault wanted the baking powder with which to leaven the dough. The fishermen wanted their worms with which to bait their hooks. The latter were gratified, but nowhere could the baking powder be found, and we were forced to the conclusion that it was one of the lost articles on the portage. That night and the next day, we lived on bread made without any leaven, which from a number of experiences, I feel competent to state, is never a great success. The fishing, however, was good, and on the portages enough partridges were shot within revolver range to afford plenty of good meat for the party. These we cooked with bacon and dressed with butter, of which we had a goodly supply. There were plenty of crackers and Carolina rice, with blueberries close at hand for the picking, so that the party subsisted well, until it arrived at Ely, where the three fishermen bade Perrault and me farewell, returning to their homes by railroad train, after a pleasant outing.