es, it gave Mm a thrill to know that friends were near
by, and waiting to assist him, if such were necessary.

But young Dugdale was an independent lad, accustomed to relying
altogether upon his own endeavors, as one must always do whose life is
spent in the heart of the Great Lone Land of the Far Northwest.

Hence, he kept on swimming with his boat until he could wade, and in
this way came out of the river dripping, temporarily held in check by
his misfortune, but not in the least dismayed.

Two figures hurried to meet him, though they arrived too late to give
him a helping hand in effecting a landing.

Owen looked at them in amazement--he had at the most anticipated that
those whose encouraging shouts had reached his ears while in the water
must be some timber-cruisers who chanced to be camping at the foot of
the rapids for the fishing to be found there; or it might be several of
the halfbreed _voyageurs_ employed by the Hudson Bay Company to carry
furs from far distant posts to some station on the railroad; but he
found himself gazing upon neither.

Two boys confronted him, neither of them much older than himself, and
utter strangers at that.

Owen had never had a chum; and indeed, his life had been a lonely one,
burdened by responsibilities that had made him much older than his
years--his scanty associations had been with hardy lumbermen or
_voyageurs_, so that the presence of this twain struck him as the most
mysterious and remarkable thing in all his experience.

And they seemed so solicitous concerning his welfare, insisting upon
taking hold of the boat and pulling the same clear of the water, that he
almost began to fancy he must be dreaming.

"Now," exclaimed the taller of the two, when this job had been finished,
"come right up to our tent, where we have a bully fire that will dry you
off in a jiffy. And our coffee is just ready, too--I rather guess
that'll warm you up some. Eli, it's lucky you made an extra supply,
after all. Looks as if you expected we'd have company drop in on us.
I'll carry the paddle--good you hung on to it, for it's a tough job to
whittle one out, I know. Here we are, old chap, and believe me, you're a
thousand times welcome!"

CHAPTER II.

THE CAMP UNDER THE HEMLOCKS.

Young Owen Dugdale's heart thrilled within him.

In all his life he could not exactly remember a single time when he had
been thus warmly welcomed to any camp. Why, it was almost worth shooting
the