"We'll work hard for it, _what_ever," declared David. "'Twould be a bad fix t' be caught by th' ice before we gets to Seal Lake."

"That it would," agreed Indian Jake. "But you lads are goin't' find the work gettin' there harder'n any work you ever had t' do."

The first hint of dawn was in the East when they broke camp and set forward upon their journey again. The air was brisk and frosty, but when the sun rose it shone warm and mellow, and the snow melted and trickled in glistening rivulets which ran down everywhere over the rocks to join the river. That day they reached the rapids, and then followed many days of tedious, back-breaking toil as they ascended into the higher country--days when the boys needed all the grit that was in them, and stout hearts, too.

Sometimes Indian Jake and David pulled the boat at the end of a rope, while Andy, with an oar as a rudder, or standing in the bow with a long pole, steered it away from the sh.o.r.e and prevented its running afoul of rocks. Thus they traversed a brook for some miles, when it became necessary to circ.u.mvent a section of the river where it thundered down through the hills in a great white torrent no boat could stem.

From the head of the brook there was a carry, or portage, as they called it, of nearly two miles. Over this portage the boat must needs be hauled foot by foot, overland. Several round sticks were cut for rollers, and the boat drawn over them by David and Indian Jake, while Andy attended to placing the rollers and keeping them in position.

Then the provisions and other equipment were carried on their backs to the place where the boat was to be launched. Indian Jake bore tremendous burdens, with his voyageur's tumpline, which is the Indian's way. And David and Andy, with combined shoulder and head straps, staggered after him with as heavy loads as they could carry, and did their best. Even then it was necessary to make three journeys over the trail before the last pack was delivered at the place where the boat had been carried. A whole day was occupied in transferring the boat, and the larger part of another day in transferring the goods, but Indian Jake cheered the lads with the a.s.surance that it was the longest portage, and therefore the hardest work they would encounter on the journey.

"I'm glad enough of that," declared David. "I'm about scrammed, and I'm feelin' like I couldn't go much farther till I rests."

"That's just like I feels, too," admitted Andy.

"We'll make camp here for the night," said Indian Jake, "because 'tis the best place to camp we'll come to before dark finds us. But every time we feels weary we can't stop to rest. Travelers must keep goin'

often enough when they're tired. There'll be tired days enough, too, before we reach Seal Lake, and there'll be tireder days on th' fur trails in th' winter, and you lads promised you'd keep your grit."

"Aye," admitted David, shamed by the rebuff, "we promised, and we'll be keepin' our grit. I was forgettin', when I made complaint."

"And I was forgettin', too," said Andy.

Indian Jake never complained, and never admitted he was tired, and never again did he hear complaint from either David or Andy, though often enough they were almost too weary of evenings to eat their supper.

Whether Indian Jake appreciated their self-restraint and st.u.r.dy tenacity, or accepted it as a matter of course, he never commented upon it or uttered a word of approval, though he presently began to treat them more as companions and veterans than as novices. Sometimes he even asked David's opinion upon some point, and when he did this David felt vastly complimented, for there was no better woodsman in the country than Indian Jake.

The nights were growing frosty. The ground was hard frozen, and the bowlders at the water's edge were coated with ice. But the river itself, too active to submit so early to the shackles of approaching winter, went rushing along in its course, now quietly, with a deep, dark, sullen current, now thundering over rocks in wild, tempestuous rapids that made the heart thrill with its force and power. Day and night the rush of waters was in the cars of the travelers, but withal it was a pleasant sound. They thought of the river as a mighty living thing, and as a companion, despite the toil it demanded of them.

"Th' river roarin' out there makes me solemn, like," remarked Andy one evening after they had eaten supper and sat by the crackling stove while Indian Jake quietly puffed at his pipe.

"How, now, does she make you solemn?" asked David.

"I were thinkin' how she keeps rushin' on an' roarin' that way, always," Andy explained. "She were goin' that way before we were born, and she'll keep goin' that way after we're dead, no matter how old we lives t' be. She'll keep goin', and goin', and goin', and there's never like t' be an end t' her goin' till th' world comes to an end.

And I were thinkin' how much she'll see that none of us'll ever see.

Other folks'll be comin' in here t' trap just like we're comin'

now--after we're dead--and we won't know it, but th' river will."

"And there's no end t' th' water that feeds her," added David. "I wonders where it all comes from."

"I wonders, now," mused Andy.

"There's no doubtin', now, she's been runnin' like that since th' Lard made th' world," continued David. "'Tis hard t' understand where all th' water comes from."

"I'm thinkin', now," and Andy's voice was filled with awe, "th' Lard made un that way, and fixed un so there'd never be lack o' water. I wonders, now, if th' Lard keeps watchin' her all th' time, and if she'd go dry if He didn't keep lookin' out for un."

"Th' Lard watches un all th' time," said David. "There's no doubtin'

that. Th' Lard watches out for everything, and He even knows what we're thinkin' this minute."

"I wonders if He does, now?" and Andy's eyes were filled with wonder.

"Do you think, Jake, th' Lard made th' river, and keeps watch that she's always got plenty o' water?"

Indian Jake shifted uneasily, and reaching over to snuff the candle, grunted:

"Hugh! I think sometimes the devil made her, th' way we have t' fight her t' get up t' Seal Lake."

"'Tweren't th' devil!" objected Andy, horrified at the suggestion.

"'Twere th' Lard made she. We couldn't get t' Seal Lake without she, though she is a bit hard t' go up sometimes."

"Pop says th' Lard makes it hard for us t' master th' good things He makes for us," said David. "That's so we'll know how good they are after we masters un."

"You lads'll be gettin' homesick, and you talks about such things,"

broke in Indian Jake, knocking the ashes from his pipe. "It's time t'

turn in."

And so the days of toil continued, until one morning they entered a lake, and David gave a shout of joy and announced to Andy that the work of long carries and hauling the boat through rapids was at an end.

"We're 'most to th' Narrows tilt," said he. "This is th' lower end of Seal Lake, and just above here is th' Narrows."

And so it proved. When presently the lake narrowed down into a short strait and directly opened into a far extending expanse of water, David pointed excitedly to the eastern sh.o.r.e, some four hundred yards above, with the exclamation:

"There 'tis, Andy! There 'tis! See un?"

And a few minutes later the boat's prow grounded upon a sandy beach at the point David had indicated and at the mouth of a small river which emptied into Seal Lake at the head of the Narrows, and there in the edge of the forest that bordered the beach nestled the little log hut they called a "tilt."

"Here we are at last," said Indian Jake, who was in an amiable state of mind, "and I take it you lads are glad enough t' be here."

"'Tis fine!" exclaimed Andy.

"'Tis that," seconded David, "and fine t' get here ahead o' th'

freeze-up."

"Now we'll tidy th' place up and get it ready to stop in," said Indian Jake, "and store our outfit away."

Even Andy had to stoop to enter the low door, though, within, the ceiling was amply high for Indian Jake to stand erect. The room was about ten feet square, and was fitted with low bunks on two sides. It contained a sheet-iron tent stove, with the pipe, which answered the double purpose of pipe and chimney, extending up through the roof.

They set about at once to make the place hospitable and comfortable.

Rubbish was cleared away and the earthen floor swept clean with a handful of twigs, which answered well enough in lieu of a broom. Then fragrant balsam and spruce boughs were spread upon the bunks for a bed, and finally the outfit was carried up from the boat and conveniently disposed of, and a fire kindled in the stove.

The relaxation after the long, hard journey, was doubly acceptable.

The wood crackling in the stove, the spicy perfume of balsam, and the sense of a secure retreat, gave the tilt an air of coziness and comfort the boys had not experienced since leaving The Jug. This was to be their headquarters and their home for many months, and their place of rest and relaxation.

David brought a kettle of water from the lake and set it on for dinner, while Indian Jake turned some flour into a pan, and began dexterously mixing dough for hot bread.

"We made good time," he remarked good-naturedly, as he fitted a cake of dough into the frying pan. "It's the second day of October, and the lake won't fasten for another week, _what_ever. There's some geese about yet, and we'll get some of 'em. They'll make a good change now and again, later on."

"That'll be fine!" exclaimed David.

"We'll do all th' huntin' we can in daylight," said Indian Jake, "and of evenings get our stretchin' boards in shape for the time when we'll need 'em. And I expect there'll be some pa'tridges--"