art of the
country," said Howard. "I think there will be little risk in continuing
our journey."

Tim industriously used his paddle, and shortly afterward, Elwood pointed
to an open space some distance inland.

"Yonder are people, and they look as if they were gathered around a
camp-fire at their dinner."

Tim jerked his head around, gave a puff of his pipe and said:

"Rid gintlemen ag'in, and I'll shy the canoe under the bank, and craap
along till we gets beyonst thim."

"No, they are not Indians--they are white men," quickly added Elwood.

A careful scrutiny by all ended in a confirmation of Elwood's suspicion.

"That is good," said Howard, with a pleased expression, "it shows that
we are getting beyond the wild country into a neighborhood where white
men abound, and where we can feel some degree of safety."

"I suppose they are miners or hunters who are taking their midday meal
in the open air," added Elwood, who was still gazing at them.

"Shall we heave too, pitch over the anchor, and s'lute them?" asked Tim.

"No; go ahead, we have no time to spare."

The cheering signs continued. An hour later they descried several white
men seated in canoes and fishing near shore. They exchanged the
courtesies of the day with them and passed on, growing more eager as
they neared the goal.

It would have been no difficult feat of the imagination for one standing
on shore to fancy that the cause was a pocket edition of a Hudson River
steamboat, so powerfully did Tim O'Rooney puff at his pipe, the whiffs
speeding away over his shoulder in exact time with the dipping of the
paddle, as though the two united cause and effect. The fellow was in the
best of spirits. Suddenly he paused and commenced sucking desperately at
his pipe-stem, but all in vain; no smoke was emitted.

"What is the matter?" asked Elwood.

"Steam is out, and the paddle won't go."

"Let me relieve you."

The boy used it with good effect, while Tim shoved his blunt finger into
the pipe-bowl, shut one eye and squinted into it, rattled it on his
hand, puffed at it again, turned his pockets wrong side out, then put
them to rights, and repeated the operation, just as we open the door a
half-dozen times to make sure our friend isn't behind it, then gave one
of his great sighs and looked toward Howard.

"I put the last switch of tobaccy I had in the world into that pipe,
just arter throwing myself outside of that quince of fish."

"Quience?" laughed t