When Roy and Nelly sat down to gaze in admiration on Silver Lake, they
little thought how long a period they should have to spend on its
shores.
The lake was a small sheet of water not more than half a mile broad,
embosomed among low hills, which, though not grand, were picturesque in
outline, and wooded to their tops. It occupied the summit of an
elevated region or height-of-land--a water-shed, in fact--and Roy
afterwards discovered that water flowed from both the north-east and
south-west sides of the table-land, in the midst of which it lay. These
fountain-heads, separated by little more than half a mile from each
other, were the sources of streams, which, flowing in opposite
directions through hundreds of miles of wild, beautiful, and
uncultivated wilderness, found their way, on the one hand, into Hudson's
Bay, on the other hand, into the Atlantic through the great rivers and
lakes of Canada.
The waters of the lake were strikingly clear and pellucid. When the
young wanderer first came upon the scene, not a zephyr stirred the
leaves of the forest; the blue sky was studded with towering masses of
white clouds which glowed in sunshine, and these reflected in the glassy
water--as if far, far down in its unfathomable depths--produced that
silvery effect which prompted Nelly to utter the name which we have
adopted.
Small though the Silver Lake was, it boasted two islets, which like twin
babes lay side by side on their mother's fair breast, their reflected
images stretching down into that breast as if striving to reach and
grasp its heart!
"Couldn't we stay here a short time?" asked Nelly, breaking the silence
in a tone that indicated anxiety, hope, and enthusiasm, "only for a very
_little_ time," she added, coaxingly.
Roy looked grave and sagacious. Boys, as well as men, like to be leant
upon and trusted by the fair sex--at least in things masculine--and
Nelly had such boundless faith in her brother's capacity to protect her
and guide her through the forest, that she unwittingly inspired him with
an exuberant amount of courage and self-reliance. The lad was bold and
fearless enough by nature. His sister's confidence in him had the
effect of inducing him to think himself fit for anything! He affected,
therefore, at times, a look of grave sagacity, befitting, as he thought,
so important and responsible a character.
"I've just been thinking," said he--
"Oh! don't _think_, but say yes!" interrupted Nelly.
"Well, I'm going to say yes, but I meant to give you my reasons for
sayin' so. In the first place, my powder and shot is gettin' low. You
see I did not bring away very much from the Injun camp, and we've been
using it for so many months now that it won't last much longer, so I
think it would not be a bad plan to stop here awhile and fish and shoot
and feed up--for you need rest, Nelly--and then start fresh with a
well-loaded sledge. I'll save some powder by using the bow we made the
other day."
"But you forget it's broken."
"So it is--never mind, we can make another--there's a tree that will
make a first-rater down in the hollow, d'ye see it, Nell?"
"Where--oh yes--just by the grassy place where the rock juts out into
the water with the sun shining on it? what a _nice_ place to build a
hut!"
"Just so," said Roy, smiling at the girl's enthusiasm, "that's the spot,
and that's the very thought that jumped bang into my brain as you spoke.
By the way, does a thought jump _into_ a man's brain or _out_ of it, I
wonder?"
"Out of it, of course," cried Nelly, with a laugh.
"I'm not so sure of that, Nell. I send it rather slowly out through my
mouth, but I think it jumps _into_ my brain. I wonder how it gets in;
whether by the eyes, or ears, or mouth--perhaps it goes up the nose."
"What stuff you do talk!" cried Nelly.
"D'ye think so," said Roy with a grin, "well, that bein' the case, let's
go and fix our camp, for the sun is not given to sitting up all night in
these parts, so we must work while it shines."
With hurried steps and eager looks, (for Roy, despite his affected
coolness, was as enthusiastic about the new plan as his sister,) they
descended to the margin of Silver Lake, and began to make their
encampment on the sunny spot before referred to.
It turned out to be most suitable for their purpose, having a gentle
slope towards the margin of the lake, which was fringed with a beach of
pure white pebbles, and being well sheltered in the rear by umbrageous
trees. The point of rocks close at hand formed a natural jetty, which,
Roy observed, would be useful as a landing-place when he got his raft
under way; the turf was soft, a matter of some importance, as it was to
form their couch at night, and a small stream trickled down from one of
the numerous springs which welled up at the foot of the nearest hill.
Solitary and remote from the usual haunts of men as this lake was, there
was no feeling of solitude about it at the time we write of. The entire
region was alive with wild fowl of many kinds. Wild geese trumpeted
their advent as they came from the far north, _en route_ for the far
south, and settled on the bosom of Silver Lake to take a night's lodging
there. Ducks, from the same region, and bound for the same goal--though
with less stately and regular flight--flew hither and thither with
whistling wings, ever and anon going swash into the water as a tempting
patch of reeds invited them to feed, or a whim of fancy induced them to
rest. Wild swans occasionally sailed in all their majesty on its
waters, while plover of every length of limb and bill, and every species
of plaintive cry, waded round its margin, or swept in clouds over the
neighbouring swamps. Sometimes deer would trot out of the woods and
slake their thirst on its shore, and the frequent rings that broke its
smooth surface told of life in the watery depths below.
The whole air was filled with gushing sounds of wild melody, as though
bird and beast were uniting in a hymn of praise to the beneficent
Creator who had provided the means of, and given the capacity for, so
much enjoyment.
Having decided on a suitable spot for their temporary resting-place,
Roy's first care was to construct a hut. This was neither a work of
time nor difficulty. In a couple of hours it was finished. He
commenced the work by felling about a dozen young fir-trees not much
thicker than a man's wrist, from which he chopped the branches, thus
leaving them bare poles about nine feet long. While he was thus
employed, his sister cleared the spot on which their dwelling was to
stand, and, having an eye to the picturesque, so arranged that the
opening of the hut should command an uninterrupted view of the lake. On
going into the "bush" to the place where Roy was at work, she found him
cutting down his sixth tree, and the ground was strewn with the flat
branches of those already cut.
"Come along, Nelly--how hot I am--carry these branches into camp, lass,
an' go ahead, for I've got supper to kill yet."
Nelly made no direct reply, but muttered to herself something that
sounded very like, "Oh, what fun!" as she filled her tiny arms with pine
branches, and, hugging them to her heaving breast, staggered to the
camp. When she had carried all the branches, Roy had cut all the poles,
so he proceeded to set them up. Tying three poles together at the top,
and using the pliant roots of a tree for the purpose, he set them up in
the form of a tripod. Against these three all the other poles were
piled, crossing each other at the top, and spreading out at the base so
as to enclose a circle of about six feet in diameter. Being numerous,
the poles were pretty close together, thus affording good support to the
branches which were afterwards piled on them. Pine branches are flat,
spreading, and thick, so that when laid above each other to a depth of
several inches they form a very good shelter from dew and light rain.
The hut was entirely covered with such branches, which were kept in
their places by other poles leaning upon and pressing them down. The
floor of the hut was also covered with pine "brush."
"Now for supper, Nelly," said Roy, seizing his bow, when the hut was
completed, and splicing its broken part with a strip of deerskin cut
from the lines of the sledge.
"Get a goose, Roy, and pick out a nice fat one," cried Nelly, laughing,
"I'll have the fire ready when you come back."
"I'll try," said Roy, and he did try, but tried in vain. Although a
good shot, he was not sufficiently expert with the bow to shoot wild
fowl on the wing, so he returned to the hut empty-handed.
"We must make a new bow, Nell," said he, sitting down by the fire, "I
can do nothin' wi' this, and it won't do to use the gun for anythin' but
deer. Meanwhile let's have the remains of our dinner for supper. Come,
cheer up, old 'ooman; we shall feast on the fat of the land to-morrow!"
The stars were shining in the sky, and winking at their reflections down
in the depths of Silver Lake, and the lake itself lay, as black as ink,
under the shadow of the hills, when the brother and sister spread their
blanket above them that night, and sank, almost immediately, into
profound slumber.