grow up again. This year it's being
gone over again, and from certain signs I noticed, the trapper is
reaping quite a little harvest. He was an Indian, too," said the other.

"I suppose you can tell from signs whether a white man or an Indian is
working along a stream; no doubt they have different ways of doing
things. I thought the only way to know was to look at the moccasin
tracks, as an Indian toes in, while a white man walks with his toes
out," pursued Cuthbert.

Owen laughed as though pleased.

"That's an old and exploded theory. Why should a white man brought up in
the wilds toe outward, as though he wore shoes? With moccasins on his
feet, and used to them from a baby, he walks just like a red. But there
are many ways of telling whether it is a white or Indian at work. Only
long practice will do this. I could not explain it, but if the chance
comes I'll promise to show you what I mean."

And with this they rested content, having learned considerable about the
art of fur gathering and curing in this little talk.

CHAPTER X.

MAGIC IN THE BERRIES.

The sun was just peeping above the horizon, but the air still remained
chilly after the long night; to husky boys this amounted to little, and
as soon as the camp was abandoned they would soon warm themselves up
with paddle exercise, for it was no childish work battling against that
swift current.

"Anyhow, it was a mighty comfortable camp," remarked Cuthbert, as they
moved away, and his eyes rested fondly upon the scene of their last
night's experience; so it ever is with those who live the life in the
open, for the unconscious things appeal to their affections, and a
staunch boat, a favorite paddle, a gun, knife, belt hatchet, or even the
spot where they found comfort and built their shrine at which they
temporarily worshiped, the campfire, arouses emotions in their hearts
that cannot be fully appreciated by those not of the mystic guild.

Owen led the way in his bullboat.

He was more than usually silent after his talk over the trap and the
poor little mink's foot up the creek, and Cuthbert wondered what it
might be that affected him--could the coming of Stackpole have had
anything to do with it--the idea was not impossible, for he had
evidently known the gaunt timber-cruiser before, and if the story of the
boy's sad past were known the gigantic woodsman might occupy a place in
it.

Still, upon reflection, Cuthbert was of the opinion that there