ve our truck at daybreak.
Then, in a way, I'd sooner they didn't know. Of course, I've got to
tell Jake."

"You mustn't tell him I came," Carrie said, firmly.

"Why not?" Jim asked with some surprise.

Carrie hesitated. "Oh, well, I don't want him to know. For one thing,
he might think I was rash----"

"You were splendidly plucky," Jim declared. "Of course, I won't tell
Jake, if you'd sooner not. For all that, I don't understand----"

"It isn't worth puzzling about," Carrie answered with a smile, and they
set off.

CHAPTER IX

AN HONEST ANTAGONIST

It was very hot on the rocky hill, and Jim stopped in the shade of a
stunted pine, for he had gone far through the bush. His Hudson's Bay
blanket and a bag of food, made up in a pack with straps for his
shoulders, and a small ax, were a rather heavy load. When he had
lighted his pipe he looked about. Tangled forest rolled up the hills
wherever the stiff, dark pines could find soil in which to grow. Some
were charred by fire and the tall rampikes shone silver-gray in the
strong light; some were partly uprooted by storms and leaned drunkenly
against each other.

At the head of the valley there was a faint blue haze, and Jim, knowing
this was the smoke of a camp fire, began to muse. Now he would soon
meet the man he was looking for, he doubted if he had been wise to
come, and wondered what he would say. He had set off when an Indian
reached the telegraph line and stated that a white man with a number of
packers was camped in the valley. Jim imagined the man was Martin,
Davies' employer, and meant to see him. He did not know if Davies was
with Martin or not.

By and by he set off, avoiding fallen trees and scrambling across
round-topped rocks. It was rough work and he was tired, but he could
get forward without using the ax, which he had been forced to do when
he fell among the horrible devil's club thorns. For all that, dusk was
falling when he came to an opening by a creek where a big fire burned
and a double-skinned tent stood at the edge of the trees. Six or seven
sturdy packers lounged beside the fire, and Jim saw this was not a poor
man's camp. For a few hot weeks, a traveler need suffer no hardship in
the North, if he can pay for packers and canoes. A double-roofed tent
will keep out sun and rain and a mosquito bar will keep off the flies,
but packers who carry comforts cannot carry tools, and a utilitarian
journey is another thing.