lake at
noon, by hard paddling. Here they landed, and Nasmyth dropped down upon a
boulder to look about him.

It was a cheerless prospect he saw through the haze of rain. Back into
the distance ran a stretch of slate-gray water, flecked and seamed by the
white tops of little splashing waves, for a nipping wind blew down the
lake. On either side rose low hills, dotted here and there with somber
and curiously rigid trees. They were not large, and though from a
distance they looked much the same, Nasmyth recognized some as spruce and
supposed the other ragged spires to be cedars. In one spot there were
some that resembled English larch, and these were almost bare.

Then his companions began to discuss the best means of further progress.
With a fresh breeze ahead, Jake advocated poling through the shallows
near the beach; and Lisle, with a courtesy which Nasmyth had already
noticed, turned toward him when he answered, as if his opinion might be
valuable.

"The trouble is that the beach sweeps back off the straight. We'd drive
her right up the middle to headwater with the paddle before we'd make
two-thirds of the way poling alongshore."

"It would be a good deal harder work, wouldn't it?" Nasmyth ventured, and
laughed when he saw Lisle's faint amusement. "I suppose that doesn't
count. It's not worth mentioning," he added. "Since you're anxious to get
on, what's the use of stopping for dinner? After the breakfast I had, I
can hold out some time."

"I want to get through as quickly as I can; that's why I'm not going to
rush you unless it's necessary," Lisle answered. "Try to get hold of the
fact that a man needs food regularly to keep him in efficient going
order."

"Indisputable," Nasmyth agreed. "But he can do without it and work for a
while. We've proved it."

"Not without paying," Lisle pointed out. "You can draw upon your
reserves, but it takes time and rest to make them good. We may need all
ours badly before we're through."

There was a grim hint in his last words which Nasmyth found convincing,
and when he had rested he helped to prepare the meal. It was a simple
one--cold doughy cakes baked in a frying-pan, extraordinarily tough and
stringy venison, with a pint-can each of strong green tea. Their sugar
had long ago melted and the condensed milk was exhausted.

Afterward, they shoved the canoe out and paddled doggedly into the
driving rain and the strong headwind. The spray from the splashing bows
blew int