and drawing the candle a little
nearer, I gazed at her beautiful face. Again I wondered about
Son-in-law. . . .

A RACE FOR THE PORTAGE

At three o'clock next morning the camp was astir. In the half light of
early day, and while breakfast was being prepared, the men "gummed"
afresh the big canoes. Whittling handles to dry pinesticks, they split
the butts half way down, and placed that end in the fire. After a
little burning, the stick opened like a fork; and, placing it over the
broken seam, the voyageur blew upon the crotch, thus melting the
hardened "gum"; then, spitting upon his palm, he rounded it off and
smoothed it down. By the time breakfast was ready the tents were again
stowed away in the canoes along with the valuable cargoes of furs.

Paddling up the mist-enshrouded river the canoes rounded a bend. There
the eddying of muddy water told that a moose had just left a water-lily
bed. The leaves of the forest hid his fleeing form; but on the soft
bank the water slowly trickled into his deep hoof-prints, so late was
his departure. The tracks of bear and deer continuously marked the
shores, for the woods were full of game. From the rushes startled
ducks rose up and whirred away. How varied was the scenery.
Island-dotted lakes, timber-covered mountains, winding streams and
marshy places; bold rocky gorges and mighty cataracts; dense forests of
spruce, tamarack, poplar, birch, and pine--a region well worthy to be
the home of either Nimrod or Diana.

Later in the day, when all the canoes were ranged side by side, their
gracefully curved bows came in line; dip, swirl, thud; dip, swirl,
thud, sounded all the paddles together. The time was faultless. Then
it was that the picturesque brigade appeared in wild perfection.
Nearing a portage, spontaneously a race began for the best landing
place. Like contending chargers, forward they bounded at every stroke.
Vigorously the voyageurs plied their paddles. Stiffening their arms
and curving their backs, they bent the blades. Every muscle was
strained. The sharp bows cleaved the lumpy water, sending it gurgling
to the paddles that slashed it, and whirled it aside. On they went.
Now Oo-koo-hoo's canoe was gaining. As that brightly painted craft
gradually forged ahead, its swiftly running wake crept steadily along
the sides of the other canoes. Presently the wavelets were sounding
"whiff, whiff, whiff," as the white bows crushed them down. Then at
last hi