In the morning a brief inspection showed no damage to any gear, so we could only guess at what the critter was after. We enjoyed fresh coffee over a morning fire (the previous tenant had been gracious enough to leave the firegrate stuffed with tinder and a nice supply of wrist-sized fuel at the ready). While enjoying coffee a group of four canoes traversed Bear-Trap East to West, obviously intent on the old portage trail at the West end, headed for the river and parts North of Sunday lake. We silently wished them well, and sat back to enjoy the eagle flying overhead, and the loon who took to warning her kin of the other birds presence. We took our time and cooked up some breakfast of dried egg and bacon bits...not too bad but I don't like the cleanup of the "frypan" version of dried eggs much. Not that I really enjoy the "prepare in bag" version all that much either. ;-/

We broke camp about ten-ish and with full canoe headed back toward Thunder, finding the lake once again empty (where were the folks who had seen us at Bear Trap and turned back?). We presumed they may have camped along the NE ridge of Thunder and let us slip past them, or perhaps they had headed back out to Gull? We stopped at the "second" campsite on Thunder, the one on the point facing South, and perused the grounds thinking of staying there for the day/night. This is a nice enough site, room for at least five tents or more if you are ok with going back into the trees a bit, and the latrine wasn't full of water (which was an upgrade as far as we were concerned). Still, Laurie's heart pined for the East site on Gull lake, and we decided to abandon the remote look and feel of Thunder for the possibility of being stung in not getting one of the more desirable campsites in a less remote area. So we paddled over to the landing and headed back through Mudhole (bugs!) and into Gull (more FRESH moose track!). Surprisingly, we found Gull totally abandoned, and we made camp at the East site with joy in our hearts and felt as if we'd checked into the wilderness Hilton or something. This site has it all, tons of tent pads, lots of ready firewood, and more rocks to fish off (or sun yourself on) than you can shake a stick at. A nice built-in livewell adorns the "fishing point" here, and there are pike and smallmouth to be had in the bay to your right as you stand on the point looking out at the lake. We luxuriated in a long afternoon nap, and then spend the rest of the day in leisure, reading in the sun and casting rapala's from shore. We resolved to get up early the next morning and catch walleye for breakfast, having heard that there was good "eye" fishing on the West end. There was abundant firewood stacked next to the grate, but none built in the hearth, so I left one of my "one match" signature fire stacks there for the next camper to enjoy. Also, there was a canoe seat (or camp seat) that had been left there by a previous party. We had no idea how long it had been there (just left? One day? Two months?) so we didn't pack it out with us but left it for the next group should someone be in need (we had seats in our canoe so didn't need one) and we also didn't know if the person who left it may return to claim it. We dined on Mountain Home Jamaican chicken with rice, and felt that it just wasn't what we had hoped for...it isn't likely to remain on the dining list for next year, though it did fill a hole in the tummy and provide that much needed "full" feeling...so it wasn't a total loss.  

That night I awoke at least three times with a start, each time sobering myself up with an internal conversation of "remember where you are...something MUST have just woke you up" and, listening intently, found only silence. Not just "quiet"...but absolute silence. No noise whatsoever. There was no breeze in the trees, no wave lapping on shore, no loon calling, no bird chirping, no mouse or chipmunk stirring...nothing at all. Zilch. It was eerie, and each time I awoke I was stunned with the abject silence of the surroundings. I can only think that it was my system being shocked by the complete lack of external noise that woke me up with such a start, for each time I roused I had a sense of impending danger for some reason...as if a large bear had snapped a twig and woke me up. Each time I found nothing and, after five minutes or so, succumbed to sleep once more.