n the Pipestave." It came to them both at the sight of
the limit less water, and especially when Rolf remembered that Lake
George joined with Champlain, which again was the highway to all the
wilderness.

They camped now as they had fifty times before, and made their meal. The
bright blue water dancing near was alluring, inspiring; as they sought
the shore Quonab pointed to a track and said, "Deer." He did not show
much excitement, but Rolf did, and they returned to the camp fire with
a new feeling of elation--they had reached the Promised Land. Now they
must prepare for the serious work of finding a hunting ground that was
not already claimed.

Quonab, remembering the ancient law of the woods, that parcels off the
valleys, each to the hunter first arriving, or succeeding the one who
had, was following his own line of thought. Rolf was puzzling over means
to get an outfit, canoe, traps, axes, and provisions. The boy broke
silence.

"Quonab, we must have money to get an outfit; this is the beginning of
harvest; we can easily get work for a month. That will feed us and give
us money enough to live on, and a chance to learn something about the
country."

The reply was simple, "You are Nibowaka."

The farms were few and scattered here, but there were one or two along
the lake. To the nearest one with standing grain Rolf led the way. But
their reception, from the first brush with the dog to the final tilt
with the farmer, was unpleasant--"He didn't want any darn red-skins
around there. He had had two St. Regis Indians last year, and they were
a couple of drunken good-for-nothings."

The next was the house of a fat Dutchman, who was just wondering how he
should meet the compounded accumulated emergencies of late hay, early
oats, weedy potatoes, lost cattle, and a prospective increase of
his family, when two angels of relief appeared at his door, in
copper-coloured skins.

"Cahn yo work putty goood?

"Yes, I have always lived on a farm," and Rolf showed his hands, broad
and heavy for his years.

"Cahn yo mebby find my lost cows, which I haf not find, already yet?"

Could they! it would be fun to try.

"I giff yo two dollars you pring dem putty kvick."

So Quonab took the trail to the woods, and Rolf started into the
potatoes with a hoe, but he was stopped by a sudden outcry of poultry.
Alas! It was Skookum on an ill-judged partridge hunt. A minute later he
was ignominiously chained to a penitential post, nor le