ucks along pretty quick."

They drove their paddles strongly, and drifted to the middle of the
river.

Soon became audible shouts, cries, and laughter, the click of canoe
poles. The business of the day was over. Until nearly sundown the men's
canoes had led, silent, circumspect, seeking game at every bend of the
river. Now the squaws had gone on to make camp. No more game was to be
expected. The band relaxed, joking, skylarking, glad to be relieved for
a little while of the strain of attention.

In a moment the canoes appeared, a long, unbroken string, led by
Haukemah. In the bow sat the chief's son, a lad of nine, wielding his
little paddle skilfully, already intelligent to twist the prow sharply
away from submerged rocks, learning to be a canoe-man so that in the
time to come he might go on the Long Trail.

Each canoe contained, besides its two occupants, a variety of household
goods, and a dog or two coiled and motionless, his sharp nose resting
between his outstretched forepaws. The tame crow occupied an ingenious
cage of twisted osiers.

Haukemah greeted the two white men cordially, and stopped paddling to
light his pipe. One by one the other canoes joined them. A faint haze of
tobacco rose from the drifting group.

"My brothers have made a long sun," observed old Haukemah. "We, too,
have hastened. Now we have met, and it is well. Down past the white rock
it became the fortune of Two-fingers to slay a caribou that stood by the
little water[3]. Also had we whitefish the evening before. Past the
Island of the Three Trees were signs of moose." He was telling them the
news, as one who passed the time of day.

[Footnote 3: A spring.]

"We have killed but neenee-sheeb, the duck," replied Dick, holding up
one of the victims by the neck, "nor have we seen the trail of game."

"Ah hah," replied Haukemah, politely.

He picked up his paddle. It was the signal to start.

"Drop in astern," said Dick to his companion in English, "it's the
light of the evening, and I'm going to troll for a pickerel."

One by one the canoes fell into line. Now, late in the day, the travel
was most leisurely. A single strong stroke of the paddle was always
succeeded by a pause of contemplation. Nevertheless the light craft
skimmed on with almost extraordinary buoyancy, and in silent regularity
the wooded points of the river succeeded one another.

Sam busied himself with the trolling-spoon, but as soon as the last
canoe was well bey