to
attempt a short cut across the loop by plunging straight through the
forest.

"It seems easy enough," Alf had said. "We are going about due north, I
think. The bend goes due west, but as the main part of the river flows
north according to the map, if we go straight on we are bound to strike
the water again."

"Right, old man," responded Bob. "In any case, the paters could not be
so near home, or they would have had plenty of time to get back, even by
crawling. So it would be almost wasting energy to trudge so far out of
the way."

It is one thing to say "go north," it is quite another matter to hold a
steady course in a forest. The Indian can do it; likewise the trapper.
They know the signs of the compass such as Nature has provided for
them. They know on which side of the trees certain moss is to be found,
and they know the signs that the blizzard wind leaves behind it when it
has passed on its way from arctic zones. To such as have been initiated
into the higher mysteries of woodcraft from their earliest years, a due
course to any set point of the compass is second nature. But those who
are unlearned in the art soon find out their mistake when they put their
inexperience into practice. The sun is a pointing finger to the
craftsman--a disastrous lure to the ignorant.

Bob and Alf pursued their way pluckily. Determined to keep a steady
course, the tomahawk had to be requisitioned at frequent intervals in
order to clear a passage through the thorns and binding creepers that
impeded the way.

At any other time the adventure would have been one of sheer delight,
for who would not have enjoyed exploring unknown land--probably land,
too, where only the Indian's foot and the feet of the wild creatures of
the forest had ever pressed?

Once or twice the boys saw the great velvet eyes of an antelope peeping
at them through a screen of maple leaves. Again the scrub would rustle,
as a fox crouched down to hide his skulking body from the strangers'
sight. The cat-birds were calling their sad messages to each other among
the maple leaves, and lively little chipmunks would utter their shrill
piping sounds of warning to their friends as they started before the
advance of the young explorers. Yes, it was an experience to fill the
heart with joy when any ordinary call inspired the venture spirit.

On this occasion, however, neither of the boys had eyes for such
pleasant sights, or ears for such sounds as are the delight of t