inking."

"But which way are they going?" asked John. "Do you suppose they're
lost?"

"We'll follow and see," answered Rob. "They seem to know their own way
pretty well."

They now kept Alex in sight, and in the course of about fifteen or
twenty minutes came up with Moise, who was sitting down, resting his
back against the root of a tree.

"I suppose you'll know where we are now?" he asked of Rob.

Rob shook his head. "No, I don't recognize the place."

Moise pointed with a thumb to a point just back of the tree. Rob
stepped over, and gazing down, saw a deep hole in the ground.

"Why, I know!" said he. "This is one of the holes the bear dug--one of
the first ones, I should think."

"Oh, I see, you cut across-lots and didn't follow the back trail."
John was as much surprised as Rob.

"No," said Alex, "we saved perhaps half a mile by coming straight
across, for, you see, the bear was wandering all around on the
hillside as he was trying to get away. You'll find the boats are
directly below us here, and not very far away."

"This," said Rob, "seems to me pretty wonderful! You men certainly do
know how to get along in this country. I'd never have thought this was
the direct course, and if I had been in there alone I certainly would
have followed the bear's trail back--if I could have found it."

Yet it all came out quite as Alex and Moise had planned, for in less
than ten minutes more they scrambled down the steep bank to the rocky
beach where the two boats lay. The men distributed the hide and meat
between the two, covering up both with green willow boughs.

"Now," said Alex, "for a fast run down this river. We've got more meat
than we can use, and we must get to the Landing."

XXVII

THE END OF THE OLD WAR-TRAIL

It is possible to make twenty-five miles a day with pole and
tracking-line against a current even so strong as that of the Peace
River. Twice or thrice that distance down-stream is much easier, so
that no greatly difficult journey remained ahead of our travelers
between their last camp and the old Hudson Bay post known as Peace
River Landing, which perhaps Moise would have called the end of the
old war-trail from Little Slave Lake--the point near the junction of
the Peace and Smoky rivers which has in it so much strategic value,
whether in war or in peace. The two boats, pausing only for the
briefest possible encampments, now swung on down, day after day, not
pausing at the ultimate we