portage, and a
wearisome fight began against the current of the river, which was so
swift above this point as to preclude sailing or even rowing. A rope
was tied to the bow of the boat and on this three of the men hauled,
while the other stood in the craft and with a pole kept it clear of
rocks and other obstructions. For several days this method of travel
continued--tracking it is called. Sometimes the men were forced along
the sides of almost perpendicular banks, often they waded in the water
and frequently met obstacles like projecting cliffs, around which
they passed with the greatest difficulty.

At the Porcupine Rapids everything was lashed securely into the boat,
as a precaution in case of accident, but they overcame the rapid
without mishap, and finally they reached Gull Island Lake, a
broadening of the river in safety, and were able to resume their oars
again. It was a great relief after the long siege of tracking, and Ed
voiced the feelings of all in the remark:

"Pullin' at th' oars is hard when ye has nothin' harder t' do, but
trackin's so much harder, pullin' seems easy alongside un."

"Aye," said Dick, "th' thing a man's doin's always the hardest work un
ever done. 'Tis because ye forgets how hard th' things is that ye've
done afore."

"An' it's just the same in winter. When a frosty spell comes folks
thinks 'tis th' frostiest time they ever knew. If '_twere_, th'
winters, I 'lows'd be gettin' so cold folks couldn't stand un. I
recollects one frosty spell----"

"Now none o' yer yarns, Ed. Th' Lord'll be strikin' ye dead in His
anger _some day_ when ye're tellin' what ain't so."

"I tells no yarns as ain't so, an' I can prove un all--leastways I
could a proved this un, only it so happens as I were alone. As I was
sayin', 'twere so cold one night last winter that when I was boilin'
o' my kettle an' left th' door o' th' tilt open for a bit while I
steps outside, th' wind blowin' in on th' kettle all th' time hits th'
steam at th' spout--an' what does ye think I sees when I comes in?"

"Ye sees steam, o' course, an' what else could ye see, now?"

"'Twere so cold--that wind--blowin' right on th' spout where th' steam
comes out, when I comes in I looks an' I can't believe what I sees
myself. Well, now, I sees th' steam froze solid, an' a string o' ice
hangin' from th' spout right down t' th' floor o' th' tilt, an' th'
kettle boilin' merry all th' time. That's what I sees, an'----"

"Now stop yer lyin'