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BOB HUNT IN CANADA
by
GEORGE W. ORTON, Ph.D.
Graduate Coach of Track and Cross Country Teams University of
Pennsylvania, Joint Manager of Camp Tecumseh, N. H., and author of
"Bob Hunt at Camp Pontiac," and "Bob Hunt, Senior Camper."
Whitman Publishing Co.
Racine, Wis.
Copyright, 1916, by George W. Jacobs & Co.
Printed in 1924 by Western Printing & Lithographing Co. Racine, Wis.
Printed in U. S. A.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
I OFF TO CANADA 7
II UP THE ESCOUMAINS 30
III CAMP AT LAKE PARENT 45
IV ACROSS THE PORTAGE 60
V THE SHORT TRAIL TO ESCOUMAINS 71
VI PIERRE'S BEAR STORY 82
VII BOB'S CLUE 94
VIII THE WIRELESS IN THE WILDERNESS 106
IX A WEEK ON THE TRAIL 117
X MOCCASINS AS FOOD 130
XI A RESCUE IN THE RAPIDS 145
XII PIERRE'S BIG SALMON 157
XIII THE PLATINUM MINE 168
BOB HUNT IN CANADA
OFF TO CANADA
"Hey there, Pud. Come here," yelled Bill Williams one day late in May to
Pud Jones, as the latter sauntered across the athletic field.
"I'm coming," said Pud, as he rushed across, and grabbing Bill by the
shoulders slammed him up against the fence around the track.
"What do you think this is?" asked Bill. "A football game, or do you
take me for a tackling dummy?"
"Well, some kind of a dummy," replied Pud, as he held Bill so firmly
that he could not get at him to punch his head.
"That'll do, you big rhinoceros," said Bill, as Pud released him.
"What's the news?" said Pud.
"I've just had a letter from Bob Hunt and he wants us to go up to Canada
with him to a fishing and hunting camp there," said Bill.
"That would be fun but I don't know whether my father would let me go or
not. He's been talking about having me work this summer," said Pud.
"Well, you see what you can do with your father and I'll get after
mine," replied Bill. "I rather think that I won't have much trouble as
father was saying just the other day that he thought the open air life
was the only thing for a boy in the summer."
"All fathers think that, but some of them want to have us around during
the summer," said Pud, rather gloomily for him.
"Yes, I've noticed that oftentimes they make cheap chauffeurs out of
us," said Bill. "They tell us they cannot spare us during the summer and
then make us drive them around at all hours. That's quite a snap for
them, I think, but it doesn't get us any place."
"You're right," assented Pud. "I had a very poor time last summer for my
family was always having me drive them some place where I did not want
to go. They couldn't see that I would much rather get out on a lot in
the hot sun and have a game of ball than take the finest drive there
is."
"You ought to have been at Pontiac last year. We had a great time. There
was something doing every minute," said Bill.
"Yes, I heard that you had a great summer," said Pud. "How did you get
along without Bob as a pitcher?"
"We certainly missed him as he was a whole team by himself," said Bill.
"That's one reason why I would like to go to Canada with Bob, for I
haven't seen him since two summers now, and I would like to spend
another summer with him."
"So would I," said Pud. "Whereabouts in Canada does Bob want to go?"
"Wait," said Bill, pulling a letter out of his pocket. "I'll read you
what he says. Here it is: 'Father wants me to go up to a camp in Canada
called Camp Tadousac. It is situated east of the Saguenay River and
there is some wonderful fishing to be had there. I've decided to go and
I hope that your father will let you come along. It will be a new
experience for us. This camp has no permanent quarters but the members
go from one part of the country to the other and live out of doors all
the time. They use shelter tents sometimes but often they will be away
for a week with only one's pack and sleeping bag as protection against
the weather. I'm eager to try it for father says that it is fine sport.
He's been up in that country and says it is a sportsman's paradise. He
was farther west in the Lake St. John region, but it should be even
better farther east. So, Bill, get busy. Talk it up with father and
write me that you'll be with me.' That sounds good, don't it?" concluded
Bill.
"It 'listens' very well," said Pud. "But, don't you let Professor Gary
hear you say 'Don't it' again or you'll get into trouble."
"Doesn't it. Doesn't it, you boob," said Bill impatiently. "Mr. Shields
told us a good one this morning about a boy who would write 'I have
wrote' instead of 'I have written.' The teacher kept him in after school
one day and made him write it out one hundred times. The teacher was
called from the room and the boy got through his task. He waited a few
minutes but as the teacher did not return, the boy wrote a note as
follows. 'Dear Teacher, I have wrote "I have written" one hundred times.
You have not came back so I have went home.'"
"Ha, ha, ha!" roared Pud. "That's a good one, but to get down to cases,
are you really going up to Canada with Bob?"
"I am if I can get father and mother to let me go," replied Bill.
"Well, I'll see what I can do, for I think that a month or six weeks up
in those Canadian woods would make me real husky."
"You, real husky," said Bill in a commiserating tone. "I suppose that
you're not as hard as nails and nearly two hundred pounds in weight.
Now, don't get in wrong at home by telling them that you would like to
go to Canada to get husky. That would be no reason at all for you to go
there. Tell them anything you like but that."
"I'll see them to-night and let you know to-morrow," said Pud.
The two boys then separated, Pud to go in to get his baseball suit and
Bill to go out to the diamond, as he already had his suit on. Both boys
were members of the school team. Bill was now the best player in the
school, having made quite a reputation in scholastic circles as a
pitcher. He was the captain of the team, which shows better than
anything else how he had developed since first we met at Camp Pontiac's
Junior camp.
Pud was waiting for Bill the next morning at the school gate.
"I'm going, I'm going!" cried Pud, as soon as Bill appeared.
"That's fine," said Bill in rather a gloomy tone.
"What's the matter?" asked Pud. "Don't they want you to go?"
"I'm not sure," said Bill. "Father is willing, but mother is making a
big fuss. She's almost as bad as she was before I went to Pontiac."
"Gee, that's bad. I don't think they'll let me go unless you go," said
Pud, and he too looked as if he had just lost his best friend.
"I'll just bet that your father persuades your mother to let you go,"
said Pud. "He did the other time, you know."
"Yes, that's so, but he told me as we walked down to school this morning
that there really was some danger in such a trip as we planned and that
he did not feel that he should persuade mother to let me go. He said
that if he did and then something happened that he wouldn't have an
excuse," said Bill.
"That's so," said Pud in a hopeless voice. "I guess it's all off, then,
and I was counting on having such a fine summer."
"It's not all off. I'll have a chance to talk to mother this afternoon
and I'll show her why she should let me go," said Bill.
"It's not so dangerous, is it?" asked Pud.
"No, of course not," replied Bill. "Mr. Waterman, the head of the camp,
told me that he was always careful and that unless one got careless or
foolhardy that there was little real danger. He said that they got
tipped over now and then and were sometimes temporarily lost, but that
these things only lent spice to the summer and were the things
remembered in after years."
"He's right," said Pud. "Well, I hope that you can get your mother on
your side for my parents did not raise any objections."
"It's going to help me tell mother that you're going and that your
father and mother are contented about it. I'll bring her round all
right."
"I hope you do," said Pud, as they separated to go to their classes.
The next morning, Bill was waiting for Pud at the school gate. There was
such a light in Bill's eye that Pud exclaimed on seeing him.
"Don't tell me. Don't tell me, Bill. I can see in your eyes that you're
going to Canada."
"You bet I am," said Bill, swelling up his chest. "I talked mother over
and she even got enthusiastic before I got through. Father was all right
as soon as mother felt satisfied."
"Let's write Bob to-day that we'll be with him," said Pud.
"Don't worry," said Bill, with a twinkle in his eye. "I did that last
night and I'm going round to see Mr. Waterman to-night to find out what
I'll have to get for the trip."
"I'll go with you," said Pud. "We'll both need the same kit, for I have
never been to a real fishing camp before, nor have you."
"That's right," said Bill. "We'll have to get a whole lot of things we
didn't have to get for Camp Pontiac; dunnage bags, sleeping bags, tump
lines, fishing tackle, a lot of flies--"
"A lot of flies,--why, you dummy, we'll have to take some stuff along to
get rid of the flies, from all I hear."
"You big dub, don't you know that they fish with flies?" said Bill in a
disgusted tone.
"How do you catch them?" asked Pud.
"Say, what are you driving at?" asked Bill. "Do you really mean that you
do not know that they fish with artificial flies?"
"Oh, artificial flies," said Pud. "Yes, I've heard of that, but I never
saw any. My father's not a fisherman like yours."
"I should think not," said Bill.
"Well, don't swell up and bust because you know more about artificial
flies than I do," said Pud, digging Bill in the ribs. "Before we come
back, I'll be telling you a few things."
"Stop your kidding, you small giant," said Bill. "You can't be even sure
of going until you see Mr. Waterman. I would not be surprised if they
charge you two prices, for they will surely have to get an extra guide
to carry the big canoe they'll have to have for you and another extra
man to carry extra grub."
"Now, Bill, stop kidding and let me know if you really are going around
to see Mr. Waterman to-night, for if you are, I'll go along," said Pud
in a serious tone.
"Yes, I'm going," said Bill. "For heaven's sake, don't let on to Mr.
Waterman that you've never seen an artificial fly or he'll be disgusted.
Thank goodness, you learned to paddle a canoe well and to swim well as
Camp Pontiac, for those two accomplishments are really necessary for
such a trip."
"I'll be all right in that way," said Pud.
"Well, don't boast, for though you can probably swim better than any
guide we may see, they'll show you a few things about handling a canoe
that you never dreamed of. Father says that the Lake St. John guides are
wonders and we'll be only a little farther east, so our guides should be
just as clever," said Bill enthusiastically.
"Gee, it's going to be some summer," said Pud. "I wouldn't miss it for
the world."
* * * * *
Two weeks later, Bob Hunt, Pud Jones and Bill Williams left Broad Street
Station for Canada. They were going to travel to Tadousac at the mouth
of the Saguenay River, where they would be met by Mr. Waterman or one of
his men. All three boys were big enough to make such a journey alone.
The boys had their dunnage bags with them and had practically no other
baggage excepting a suitcase. Mr. Waterman had told them to take their
dunnage bags right along with them so they would run no risk of having
them held up in the Custom House at Quebec. They were all provided with
passports, as the big European war was going on and they might have use
for this means of identification.
The boys arrived in New York without any unusual happenings, but Pud got
separated from them at the Big Pennsylvania Railroad Station and they
were worried until they saw his big good-natured form looming up at the
train gate at the Grand Central Station.
"Where have you been?" asked Bill.
"Gee, I'm glad I found you," said Pud. "How did you get lost?"
"We get lost, you big duffer," said Bill. "Why, you were the one that
got lost. We've been looking all over for you."
"That's rich," said Pud, breaking out into a big laugh. "I thought that
you were lost. I know New York like a book."
"You remind me of a little boy," said Bob. "A policeman found him
wandering round the Pennsylvania Railroad Station and on going up to
him, the little boy said, 'Have you seen my muvver. I think she's got
losted. I can't find her any place.'"
"Ha! ha! Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Pud. "That's good, but I don't see how you
can liken me to a little boy."
"All aboard! all aboard for the Montreal and Eastern Canada Express!"
yelled the crier.
"That means us, fellows," said Bob. "Let's hustle."
The three boys went through the gate and were soon sitting in the
Pullman bound for Quebec.
"That was some idea of father's to get us this drawing-room," said Bill.
"We'll certainly enjoy life on this trip."
"You bet," said Pud.
They certainly were traveling in style. They tossed up to see who would
get the lower berth or the sofa. Pud was the one left over and he got
the upper berth, whereupon Bill, who had the lower, said that he would
not take any chances but would take the upper berth himself. A
good-natured, argument followed and the result was that Bob took the
lower berth, Pud the sofa and Bill went upstairs. They awoke in the
morning to find themselves at Sherbrooke and to get their first taste of
the Canadian habitant. When they got down to stretch their legs before
breakfast, they found most of the Canadians speaking French.
"Here's a chance to spout your French, Bob," said Bill.
"Who told you that I talked French?" asked Bob.
"Father told me some time ago," answered Bill. "He said that you could
talk it like a native."
"I could a few years ago, but I'm rusty now, as I haven't talked French
for at least five years," replied Bob.
"They don't talk real French here anyway," said Pud.
"Oh, yes, they do," said Bill. "It's a kind of dialect, but father tells
me that it is much easier to understand a French-Canadian than many of
the French people from Paris."
"That's very true," said Bob. "My father, as I've told you before, has
been up in the Lake St. John region, and he says that he gets along
quite well with the inhabitants. He says that they have some peculiar
expressions, but that it is quite easy to talk to them as they speak a
pretty pure dialect of French."
They were soon off again, now headed for Quebec. They got a seat in the
dining-car and watched the scenery as they rode along. They found the
quaint little Canadian cottages of the habitants much like the farmers'
homes in New England. The land was rolling and, as usual, they followed
the course of some river. As they went along, they heard less and less
English and Bob was often called on to translate the cries that were
heard at the different stations.
"I'll soon get my French back up here," said Bob. "They seem to talk
pretty good French. I can understand them quite easily."
About ten o'clock, they came into a hilly country and found evidences of
mining being carried on. On Bob's inquiring, they found that they were
asbestos mines and that it was practically a new industry for this part
of Canada. They also noted that many new farms were being cleared by the
young Frenchmen and that much lumber was being transported both by the
rivers and the railroad. The look of the people was quite foreign by
this time and the boys felt that they were indeed in a foreign land.
"Have you ever been in Toronto?" suddenly asked Bill.
"No," said Pud.
"Well, that is certainly different from this part of Canada," said Bill.
"You can hardly tell that you are out of the United States when you are
there."
"I should think that the French talk would make it seem foreign anyway,"
said Pud.
"That's it," said Bob. "You don't hear any more French there than you do
in Chicago, Philadelphia or any other American city. I remember that I
was up there to the great Toronto Fair and I hardly knew that I was in
Canada."
"This is certainly different," said Bill.
"Many people that visit only Quebec and Montreal have an entirely wrong
impression of Canada. They think there are just as many French all over
as they find in those cities. The fact is that outside of the province
of Quebec, Canada is just as much an English-speaking country as the
United States.
"Is that so?" said Pud. "Why didn't we go, then, to some place where
they talk sense? I'm going to have a fine time getting along with these
fellows. I can't talk French."
"Get busy and you'll learn a lot this summer," said Bob. "Mr. Waterman
told me that two of the guides talk English a little, so we'll get along
all right."
"I'm glad they talk English," said Bill. "All the French I know you
could put in your eye tooth."
A short time later, they arrived at Levis and saw the majestic heights
of Quebec opposite.
"This St. Lawrence is some river," said Pud.
"I should think it is," said Bob. "The biggest ocean liners can come up
this far, while there is a twenty-seven-foot channel all the way up to
Montreal."
"You don't say so," said Pud. "Well, there is one thing sure that I'm
learning some geography at first hand this morning."
"When do we leave for Tadousac?" asked Bill.
"We go down to-morrow on the boat," said Bob.
"That's fine," said Pud. "We can see the town this afternoon."
"You bet we will," said Bill.
"Where are we staying?" asked Pud.
"At the Chateau Frontenac," said Bob. "It's that building up on the
cliff there."
"That's some hotel," said Pud.
"You'll think so before to-morrow," said Bill.
"Say, let's go up to the Plains of Isaac and see where John Paul Jones
fell when he captured Quebec from the English," said Pud.
At this, Bill and Bob just curled up and laughed until they nearly fell
off their chairs.
"What's the matter?" asked Pud. "Isn't that the real place to see in
Quebec?"
"You need some history lessons as well as geography," said Bill.
"Well, let's have it," said Pud. "I know I'm always getting things
fatally twisted."
"You mean the Plains of Abraham," said Bob.
"Oh, Abraham, Jacob or Isaac, it's all the same, isn't it?" said Pud,
apparently rather disgusted that they had blamed him for such a natural
mistake.
"And, who ever heard of John Paul Jones taking Quebec?" asked Bill,
looking at Bob.
"Well, who was it?" said Pud. "Those historical names always get me."
"It was Wolfe, the famous young English general. He was killed in the
moment of victory, and the French general, Montcalm, also was killed,"
said Bob.
"Well, let's go out there and see the place," said Pud. "It must be
interesting."
By this time, they were across the St. Lawrence and at the mercy of
about a hundred cab drivers. Bob led the way and they were soon going up
the hill to the Chateau. In the dining-hall, they heard practically
nothing but English spoken as the Chateau was the place where most of
the tourists stayed. After an excellent lunch, they sauntered out to
see the sights. They were again mobbed by the cabbies.
"Let's take one of those funny-looking cabs," said Pud.
"That's just what I was looking for," said Bob. "Father told me to be
sure and have a ride in a 'caleche,' as he called it."
They got into the 'caleche,' which is just like a hansom cab except that
the old-fashioned leather springs were used, and instead of the driver
sitting behind, he rode in front on a sort of wide dashboard. Away they
went and the driver plied the whip. The horse was not large but proved
strong and wiry. In a short time, the boys were out on the Plains of
Abraham, looking at the various monuments marking the great battle which
meant the end of the French dominion in Canada. They saw the monuments
to Wolfe and Montcalm and enjoyed the view far south into the United
States. Their guide showed them the path up which Wolfe climbed with his
soldiers to surprise the French that memorable morning. After seeing the
sights there, they drove back and went through part of the citadel. This
proved to be one of the strongest forts in America, and its strength,
the number of British Tommies about, the guns of large caliber that
could be seen, so impressed the boys that Bob at last broke out.
"This is some fort. It would take a real siege gun to make much of an
impression on those walls and ramparts while I guess those big cannon
would do a little talking themselves."
"I should think so," said Pud.
"Wait a minute," said Bill. "I'd like to get some photos."
Thereupon, he pulled out a little pocket kodak he had, and got ready to
focus on a big gun set in an embrasure of the walls. Before he could
move almost, a soldier was at his side and said,
"You are under arrest. It is forbidden to bring kodaks or cameras of any
kind within these walls."
"I didn't know that," said Bill. "I simply wanted to take a few photos
of the place."
"You'll have to explain all that to the Commandant," said the Tommie, as
he led the way.
The whole thing had happened so suddenly that neither Bob nor Pud had
time to say a word before they saw Bill turn to follow the soldier.
"May we not go with our friend?" asked Bob of the Tommie.
"I was about to ask that you accompany us, for though you are not under
arrest, I'll have to bring you along as witnesses."
"Don't worry, Pud," said Bob. "It'll be all right. We're not at war and
we were not doing anything very wrong."
"That's all very well," said Pud also in a low tone. "They may take us
for spies and keep us locked up here all summer."
"Oh, Tommyrot," said Bob, though at heart he did not know just what was
liable to happen.
In the meantime, the party went along the walk until they came to a big
door. They entered and soon were asked to seat themselves in a large
room in which there were many desks with officers seated and busily
writing. Gold lace, silver spurs, bright officer's swords, red caps, and
the air of discipline and business that characterized the whole room did
not fail to have its effect on the boys. Nor did they fail to notice
that each of the doors was guarded by soldiers with fixed bayonets
standing at attention. The Tommy who was escorting them took them up to
one of the desks and said,
"Captain Davidson, I have here under arrest, this young man with these
two others as witnesses."
"Of what are they accused?" asked the officer, as he glanced sharply at
the three of them.
"Of espionage," said the soldier.
"Of espionage?" said the officer. "That is a serious offense."
"I know it is but that is the term under which the offense comes,"
replied the soldier.
"This must be taken up by the Commandant himself," said the Captain, as
he touched a bell at his side. Immediately a young officer appeared.
"Captain Abercrombie, tell Major-General Norris, the Commandant, that we
have here a prisoner accused of espionage."
The orderly saluted and was soon lost to view behind a door at one end
of the hall. He was back in a few minutes. During that time, our three
adventurers stood and watched with interest the varied scene that was
taking-place before them.
"This is some lark," said Bill to Bob in a low tone.
"No communication between the prisoner and witnesses," said the Tommy at
once, as he moved nearer as if to enforce his demands. Pud looked over
at Bill with a sort of reproach in his eyes, for he had heard the
remark. Bob kept his eyes front for he was very much interested in the
comings and goings of the officers, orderlies and soldiers that came and
went throughout the hall.
"Captain Davidson," said the orderly as he returned, "the Commandant
requests that you send in the prisoner and witnesses to him at once.'
"Very well," said the Captain. "Here they are and I hand them over to
you together with Private Watkins, who arrested them."
They were then marched into the next room where they found a big
white-haired man sitting at a desk busily engaged. The orderly stopped
his charges at a respectful distance. The Commandant kept on writing for
a few minutes but suddenly he turned around and gave a sharp and
piercing look at the young Americans.
"Americans," said he, in rather a relieved tone. "Captain Abercrombie,
let me know the gist of this affair."
"Major-General Norris, I shall have to ask Private Watson to give you
the details at first hand, for as yet I know nothing about the matter,
except that one of these young men is accused of being a spy."
"Private Watson, give me the details of the matter."
"Your Excellency," said Private Watson, "I know nothing more than that
as I stood at my post on the Ramparts, near Gun No. 145, I saw this
young man (pointing to Bill) suddenly produce one of those very small
German cameras and try to take a photo of the gun and its location."
"Young man, is this so?" asked the Commandant in a serious voice.
"It is so, except that I did not intend to do any harm; the gun seemed
very picturesque to me and I wanted a photo of it," said Bill.
"Were you not told that you should leave cameras of all kinds with the
gateman?" asked the Commandant.
"No," said Bill. "We came in a carriage and nothing was said to us."
"Then, you were given a card and asked to read it, were you not?"
continued the Commandant.
"Yes," said Bill, "but to tell the truth, I didn't read it carefully."
"Where is that card?" was the next question.
Bill fumbled in his pocket and in a moment held it out.
"Private Watson, kindly show the prisoner the order relating to
cameras," said the Commandant.
Private Watson then came forward and, taking the card, he showed Bill
the paragraph stating that all cameras must be left at the gate.
"I am very sorry, sir, that I was so careless," said Bill. "I did not
think that anything I could do would get me into trouble here and I
didn't think it necessary to read the card. There were so many things
to see that I just put it in my pocket."
"That is not much of an excuse," said the Commandant in a stern voice.
"You must remember that you are here in a military fortress and that we
can't be too strict in some matters."
"I recognize that now, but I assure you that I had no motive whatever in
taking the picture except to get a unique photo," said Bill humbly.
The Commandant for the next ten minutes put the three boys through a
regular third degree examination. They told him who they were, where
they came from, who their parents were, what business they were in, and
a hundred other questions.
"Boys," said the Commandant, "I'm afraid that I'll have to detain you
until Captain Abercrombie here can verify some of your statements."
Then, turning to the orderly, he said,
"Captain Abercrombie, call up the Chateau and see if these three are
registered there as they state. Send Private Watson out to the West Gate
to get the driver who took them to the Plains of Abraham this afternoon.
Call up the Richelieu and Ontario Navigation Company's office and see if
passage is booked for to-morrow for three in the name of Hunt. Look
through their luggage at the Chateau and report as soon as possible."
"Very well, your Excellency," said the Captain, and saluting, he
vanished.
"Private Watson," said the Commandant.
"At your orders, sir," said the private, clicking his heels as he
saluted.
"Take these young gentlemen to the guard-house and remain with them
until I send Captain Abercrombie to you with orders for their release."
"Very well, your Excellency," said Private Watson, as he led the way out
of the room.
The boys followed him through the big room, out into the air and along a
path until they came to a smaller building with iron bars at the
windows. Private Watson had to stop and tell the nature of the errand to
the soldier at the door, who finally saluted and let them in. They found
themselves in a rather large antechamber. After a talk with the Captain
in charge, the boys were led to a bright airy room on the second floor.
"I've brought you here, boys," said Private Watson, "because you can
look out of the windows and find something to interest yourselves with.
I can tell by the way in which Major-General Norris spoke that he thinks
you are all right, so I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. When you
get tired of seeing the scenery, take a look at those old guns in the
cases over there."
Thereupon, their escort left them and could be seen pacing in front of
the door.
"You're a fine specimen," said Pud, as soon as the door was closed.
"Ah, what's the matter?" said Bill. "I suppose you think that I brought
the camera along just to get us into trouble."
"You didn't seem to think it was serious a little while ago," replied
Pud. "Then, you said it was a lark. This is a fine lark. If we're kept
here, we'll miss our boat to-morrow and that will make us miss the other
boat to Escoumains and then Mr. Waterman won't know where we are and it
will ball everything up."
"Dry up, you old tear-bag," said Bob. "This isn't very serious. I can
see why it's only right that they should be very careful around a
fortress and any trouble we're in is our own fault, but Captain
Abercrombie will find everything straight and we'll be out of here just
in time to have a good dinner and to talk over our experience with
gusto."
"I hope so, I hope so," said Pud, in such a dejected tone that even Bill
had to laugh at him.
"Gee, I'm sorry, Bob, to get you two into all this trouble," said Bill
to Bob.
"Don't worry. Things will be all right."
The boys then busied themselves watching the boats ply to and fro on the
broad St. Lawrence. The people seemed like small flies far down on the
esplanade near the Chateau Frontenac, while further down on the wharves,
they could see a jumbled mass of people, carriages, carts, wagons, etc.,
all indicating how busy things were in Quebec. They found plenty to
interest them, but at last they turned and began to examine the old
muskets and arms in the cases by the walls.
"Gee, here's a good one," said Bill. "It's a musket that used to belong
to old Count Frontenac. What do you think of that?"
"Who was Fronty?" asked Pud.
"Count Frontenac was one of the greatest governors that Canada ever had
in the time of the French regime."
"He was a great man, as our forefathers found out in the time of the
French and Indian wars," said Bob. "There are so many stories told,
showing what a wonderful man he was. It's like a touch of the past to
look at a gun that such a famous man once used."
"That's all right," said Pud, "but it don't help us any in getting out
of here."
"Don't get impatient," said Bob. "It will take some time to look up the
various things about us."
"That's so, but it's commencing to get dark and I'm getting hungry,"
said Pud.
"I thought so," said Bob. "I thought it had something to do with your
stomach."
"It's too bad that I got into this," said Bill.
"Cut it out, Bill," said Bob. "I've really enjoyed myself so far, for
when you come to think of it, we're not in the slightest danger. At the
worst, we can call for aid on the American consul here and make him
straighten out the matter."
"That's so," said Pud. "I never thought of that."
"Of course, you didn't, you big puddenhead," said Bob. "At your time of
life, you have difficulty in thinking of anything but your stomach."
A little later, Captain Abercrombie came to the door. The boys rushed
over to hear what he had to say.
"I am instructed by Major-General Norris, the Commandant, to say to you
that he regrets the inconvenience to which you have been put. He finds
that the information given him is correct in every particular, and he
feels that there was no idea of spying on your part. At the same time,
he desires to recommend to all of you that in future, on going into a
fortress, whether here or elsewhere, that when given a card of
instructions, you read and act according to the same. He desires that
you be set at liberty at once and has a military carriage at the West
Gate to drive you to the Chateau. Private Watson, will you kindly see
the gentlemen to the West Gate, where you will find the carriage ready?
With your permission, I shall also accompany you as far as the
Commandant's office."
"Hurray," said Pud. "I knew it would be all right."
"I'm sorry to have put you to all this trouble, Captain," said Bill.
"I'm sure that I'll be more careful in the future."
"It was no bother. I am glad that you got off so easily. We have to be
careful here at all times, for this is, you know, the strongest fortress
in His Majesty's great Dominion, and its secrets must be guarded."
On arriving at the Commandant's office the captain left them, and it was
not long afterwards that they were sitting around a table at the Chateau
Frontenac, chatting and laughing and having a good feed, as Pud
expressed it.
"That experience of ours seems just like a dream to me," said Bob, as
the waiter left to get the dessert.
"It was no dream," said Pud. "If that old Major-General Norris had not
been such a thoroughbred, he might have given us a peck of trouble."
"Never again for me," said Bill. "If ever I go into a public place and
they give me directions, I'm going to listen and do what's ordered."
"What's doing to-night?" asked Pud, who was always looking for fun in
some form or other.
"Nothing much," replied Bob. "I understand that there's a band concert
by the Highland Regiment band on the Esplanade this evening. We can
listen to that for a while and then get to bed. We must be up early as
the boat leaves for Tadousac at seven o'clock to-morrow morning."
"I'll never make it," said Pud.
"You'll make it, all right," said Bob. "We're all sleeping in the same
room and I have a call in for five-thirty. That will give us time to get
up and have a decent breakfast before going."
The boys enjoyed the band concert after their dinner. On the broad-walk
on the river side of the Chateau, a large crowd gathered and sauntered
up and down listening to the excellent music. The scene was interesting
to the boys mainly because of the many kinds of military dress that was
sprinkled throughout the crowd. The military men gave a touch of the Old
World to the scene that was different from anything that the boys had
ever noted in the United States. In good time they turned in, and
five-thirty saw Bob out of bed and on top of Pud, who said that he could
not get awake.
"I'll waken you up, you lazy dog," said Bob, as he jumped on Pud's bed.
This action thoroughly aroused Pud, and a five minutes' wrestling match
resulted in Bob's being finally buried beneath the covers.
"Help, Bill," yelled Bob. "This big elephant will crush the life out of
me if you do not come to my assistance."
Bill, thereupon, rushed over and grabbed Pud by the shoulders with such
a force that he finally had to cry quits.
"Oh, all right," said Pud, "but it takes two of you to do it."
"Let's hurry," said Bob. "I have ordered oatmeal, buckwheat cakes and
maple sirup, poached eggs on toast, chops--"
"Stop, stop," yelled Pud. "My mouth's watering now. I'll beat you all to
the dining room."
Ten minutes later they were having their last breakfast in Quebec for
many a long day. A little later, they drove down to the wharf and were
soon on board. They found the boat large and roomy and filled with
tourists, taking the Saguenay trip, that is, the trip from Quebec to
Murray Bay, to Tadousac and up the far-famed Saguenay to Chicoutimi. The
scenery is noted all over the world as this is one of the big
sight-seeing trips of the Western continent. It was not long until they
swung out into the stream and headed for the Ile d'Orleans which lies
just below Quebec. Further along, they looked over to the northern bank
of the river and saw the famous Montmorency Falls.
"I was going to suggest yesterday that we go down to Montmorency for
dinner last night," said Bob. "Father told me to do this, but our
adventure at the Citadel made this out of the question."
"That's too bad," said Bill.
"That was some business," said Pud. "I thought it was all over with us
for awhile. I was dreaming of dungeons deep for weeks to come."
"Don't exaggerate, Pud," said Bob. "We might have had a lot of trouble.
I wonder what that fine church over there is."
"That's the well known St. Ann de Beaupre cathedral," said an Englishman
or Canadian standing nearby.
"I never heard of it," said Bill.
"It's easily seen that you're not a Roman Catholic," said the stranger.
"I can't imagine a Catholic ever coming to Quebec without knowing of the
virtues and miracles of St. Ann."
"I must confess my ignorance too," said Bob.
"Well, St. Ann de Beaupre is the patron saint of this particular parish
and for many, many years she had been doing miracles in that little town
over yonder. That magnificent church is a tribute donated by the
hundreds that have been blessed by her ministrations."
"In what special field does the gracious Saint consent to show her
power?" asked Bob, with his best manner.
"Towards the crippled," said the stranger. "Hundreds of crutches have
been left in that church as proof of the divine powers of St. Ann."
"Is that so?" said Pud.
"Yes, and there really seems to be some miraculous influence at work."
"We must go there when we are coming home," said Bob.
"It will pay you," said the stranger, "for you will see there some
things to be seen in no other part of North America except in Mexico."
As they went down the river it gradually broadened, until they were
steaming along on what looked more like an inland sea than a river. In
due time, they came to the famous northern watering place, Murray Bay.
The ship stopped there for some time and the boys had a chance to hire a
carriage and go up into the town. They saw some nice hotels and
evidences of fashionable country places. It was getting dark as they
came off the mouth of the Saguenay River, and the high rocks on either
side as they moved on gave one the impression of great depth. This
impression was correct, as the river flows along a cleft in the strata
rather than along any bed that has been made by the action of the waters
themselves. They moved into a wharf that merely jutted out from the
rocky shore. Everything was confusion, for there did not seem to be any
one but Frenchmen on the wharf. The boys got off and waited in the glare
of a big torch light, made after the fashion of the lights used by
itinerant showmen. No Mr. Waterman appeared.
"What was the name of that hotel?" asked Bob of Bill.
"I can't remember it, but I have it in my notebook," said Bill.
"Look it up, for if Mr. Waterman does not come soon, we'll go up there
as he directed us. Let's get our baggage."
They collected this and were just on the point of making a start when
Bill was slapped on the back and turned to see Mr. Waterman standing
before them, dressed for the woods.
"How are you boys?" asked Mr. Waterman, as he turned to Bob and Pud.
"Fine as silk," said Pud. "We were just going to try to find that little
hotel you wrote us about."
"We'll go up there to-night anyway and take the early boat down the
river in the morning. I've engaged rooms for you there and an early
breakfast."
"Oh, Lord!" said Pud. "Early breakfast again. I'll be a 'shadder' of my
former self if this early rising stunt is to be my regular medicine."
"Get used to it," said Mr. Waterman, "for you'll be up early from now
on, only some days it will be earlier than others. But I'll guarantee
that you'll get all the sleep that's good for you."
"All right, I'm game," said Pud. "I came up here to have a good time and
get into condition. You're the doctor and I'll not kick on taking the
medicine."
"It will be the sweetest medicine you ever had," said Mr. Waterman.
"Why, boy, we're going to have a real man's time this summer and you'll
be the first one to say so six weeks from now."
CHAPTER II
UP THE ESCOUMAINS
About five o'clock the next morning, Bob was awakened by what sounded
like a parade under his windows. He got up and saw a lot of women and
men coming from the little church on the opposite corner. Bob's action
and noise in opening the window had awakened the others, as they were
all sleeping in a sort of dormitory.
"What the deuce is going on outside?" asked Bill Williams. "Has the
circus come to town or why this procession so early in the morning?"
"You must remember that you are in a real Catholic country and that the
Roman Catholic religion plays a very big part in the life of the people
here. The so-called procession you will hear any morning as it is merely
the good souls of the parish returning from the mass or the matin
service," said Mr. Waterman.
"Well, let's get up now that we're all awake," said Bill.
"Not all," said Bob, pointing to Pud, who slept on, totally unconscious
of all that had aroused the others. "Little Lord Fauntleroy is still
peacefully sleeping."
"Not so loud," said Mr. Waterman. "You'll wake him up."
"No fear of that," said Bill. "What's the answer, Bob? Shall we merely
mob him or what shall it be?"
"Let's dump him on the floor and have some fun with him," said Bob.
The two boys then went over and with a mighty shove, they dumped Pud on
the floor and turned cot and mattress over him. They both climbed on top
and only smothered sounds could be heard from beneath the pile. Then
like Goliath in his wrath, Pud arose, cot, mattress, blankets, two
yelling boys, and all, and shook himself. He made a bull-like rush at
Bob but Bill got him from behind and for five minutes there was some
pretty rough-house work in that room.
"Ye gods! I'm hot," at last cried Bob, stepping back for a breathing
spell.
"Same here," said Pud, sitting down on a cot and wiping off the sweat
with a pajama top that had gotten separated from its master during the
melee.
"Let's get dressed and get some breakfast," said Bill.
"Is this the regular setting up exercises that this little company of
mild-eyed anarchists have every morning?" asked Mr. Waterman in his
quiet way. "If so, I am afraid that I cannot recommend it for persons
nervously disposed."
"Oh, this is nothing," said Bob. "This will just give us an appetite."
"Well, I hear Madame Colombe busy getting breakfast ready, so we'll just
be in time," said Mr. Waterman.
Ten minutes later, the party was seated around a table in the dining
room eating a breakfast of oatmeal, milk, ham and eggs, hot biscuits and
coffee.
"The boat leaves at six-thirty so we haven't much time to lose," said
Mr. Waterman.
"We'll be with you in a minute," said Bob.
The boys hurried upstairs and came down with their dunnage bags. They
had expected to carry these down to the boat, but a little hotel cart
came along and took them down. They had a few minutes to spare as they
arrived at the wharf, so they went out to the little observation house
in the middle of the pond right near the wharf. This pond was used by
the Government as a Fishery Station and there were scores of magnificent
salmon in the pond. The boys were much interested in watching these
wonderful game fish. They could see them swimming around and
occasionally one of them would jump clear out of the water after a fly
or some other insect.
"We'll have to catch a few like those this summer," said Mr. Waterman
with a glistening eye.
"Will we really have a chance to catch salmon as large as those?" asked
Bob.
"Oh, yes, on our Portneuf River trip, we should get some salmon just as
fine as these," said Mr. Waterman.
"What do you catch them with? I'm sure I have nothing big enough to hold
a fish like that," said Pud.
"We catch them with the regular rod and fly," replied their leader.
"Don't say 'we'; say 'I' catch them, for I should think it would have to
be a real fisherman that could land such a big fish with such a small
line and rod," said Pud.
"That's why we're coming up here," said Bill Williams. "My ambition is
to get one of those salmon and I don't want it unless I can catch it
with my regular tackle."
"That's talking like a real fisherman and sportsman," said Mr. Waterman.
"Boys, this fishing is or should be considered a sport. That being so,
we must make it a matching of our wits against that of the fish. It
should not be merely our strength against theirs. We, as sportsmen,
should give them a chance."
"That's the idea," said Bob. "Well, I'll consider that I am developing
into a real fisherman when I am able to land one of those big fellows."
Just then the boat whistle was heard and the boys hurried on board. The
vessel that was to take them to Escoumains was an old side-wheel steamer
apparently of the vintage of about 1812. It did some wheezing and
puffing before it got straightened out for the trip. The boys looked
over the boat with interest, paying special attention to the people who
were on board. They were greatly interested in the talk and gestures of
the Frenchmen that composed the crew and most of the passengers. A
little old Frenchman with a fiddle also attracted their attention. A
few pennies soon had him playing away for dear life and calling off the
figures in French in a singsong voice.
On their way down the river, the boat stopped at two places, at both of
which lumbering seemed to be the main industry. At last, the boat put in
for Escoumains. Two large tramp steamers were anchored off the town
loading lumber from big barges. The steamers drew too much water to get
into the town wharf, thus requiring two handlings of the lumber. Quite a
few people were on the wharf. Mr. Anderson, one of Mr. Waterman's men,
was awaiting them. As soon as they were off the boat, he had a carriage
ready and they were off for the little village a half mile away. They
stopped at Madame LaBlanche's boarding house, where Mr. Waterman had
made arrangements for keeping their "store" clothes while they were out
in the woods. They were shown upstairs and in a short time, the boys
were getting into their real wool suits. Mr. Waterman brought in the
shoepacks that he had made for them according to the measurements he had
taken previously. All fitted nicely, though Mr. Waterman looked over
them carefully.
"It pays to be sure that your shoepacks are right," said Mr. Waterman,
"for they are the real boots for use in canoeing trips. They should be
comfortable."
"Are these waterproof?" asked Bob. "Father told me that his shoepacks
were tight as a drum and that he stepped right out of the canoe into the
water whenever he wanted to."
"That's right," replied Mr. Anderson. "It is possible that they may leak
just a little the first two days until the seams swell, but after that
they will be just as dry as rubber boots."
This information caused Bill and Pud to look at their shoepacks with
more care. They were both anxious to try them out. Finally, they were
ready for the woods, with everything unnecessary put away at Madame
LaBlanche's. Their sleeping bags, extra shirts, moccasins, etc., were
in their dunnage bags and all of these were piled outside the door on
the porch.
"We still have about a half hour before lunch so let us go over to the
store, as I want you all to meet Sandy MacPherson, the owner," said Mr.
Waterman. "Sandy is the big man of this village. He runs the big saw
mill, owns the store and manages scores of lumbermen in the winter when
the trees are cut many miles up the valleys. He's a good man to know as
everybody here does as he says. In addition, he talks English and that
helps when one cannot talk French very well."
They all went over to the store and found it the center of male society
at least for the village. Several men were gathered there while others
came and went, buying things in the store, which was quite a large store
for such a small village. Sandy seemed delighted to meet the boys.
"I'm delighted to meet you, boys," said he. "You're in for a fine time
if you're going into the woods with Mr. Waterman. If you get in trouble,
just call on me."
The boys thanked him for his good wishes and after taking a look at the
big saw mill, they went back to the boarding house.
"Fill up, boys, as this is the last meal you'll eat in a house for some
time," said Mr. Anderson.
"That's all right, but I wager that they'll enjoy some of the meals
we're going to have on Lac Parent or Corbeau more than any they have had
in a long time," said Mr. Waterman.
Madame LaBlanche outdid herself at this lunch for she had a very good
chicken dinner for the boys, with pie, cake, preserved raspberries and
crabapples for dessert.
"This is a fine meal to start one off for the woods," said Pud. "I
couldn't walk a step if you paid me five dollars."
"You won't have to walk for some time," said Mr. Anderson. "We're going
to drive in about sixteen miles and I'll wager that this dinner will be
pretty well digested by the time we get there. We're going in on an old
wood road so you will hardly find it like the macadamized roads you have
in the park in Philadelphia."
A short time later they were off. Two carriages were to take them into
the woods, each drawn by a hardy looking though rather small
French-Canadian horse and driven by a habitant. Bob was in the front
seat with the driver, with Pud and Mr. Waterman in the back seat. Bill
and Mr. Anderson were in the other buggy.
"Well, here's a chance to begin talking French," said Mr. Waterman to
Bob. "Bill tells me that you spout it quite well."
"Bill is exaggerating," said Bob. "I used to talk French rather well and
I hope to pick it up soon again."
"You will," said Mr. Waterman. "You will also find that these habitants
speak a pretty good dialect of French. In no time, Bob, you will be able
to talk just like the natives."
"Allons, Gi-may," cried the driver to the horse as he touched him with
the whip. The horse responded nobly and they bowled along right merrily.
Bob tried to think what "Allons, Gi-may" meant. He got the first word
all right. That meant "Giddap or Go-along" in the vernacular but what
that "Gi-may" meant he could not think. He did not want to ask Mr.
Waterman so soon for information. Taking the bull by the horns, Bob
began a conversation with the driver. To be sure it was very limited,
for Bob had his troubles, but after a little while he got along very
well. He was soon asking the driver for the names of the various trees
they noted along the road. Bob thought that this would be valuable in
the woods. All the habitants in such a place as Escoumains are woodsmen,
and the driver, as such, knew the names of everything in the woods. But,
every once in a while, he would cry out "Allons, Gi-may" and Bob would
wonder what that word "Gi-may" meant. Soon the road led by a small
farmhouse that had about two acres cleared around it.
"That's the last house you'll see," said the driver to Bob. Bob asked
Mr. Waterman if this was right.
"That's right," said Mr. Waterman, "and you will soon know that it is
so, for the road gets worse from now on."
This proved correct and Pud was bounced around so that he had no trouble
digesting his dinner.
"This is some road," said Pud.
"All the same, we must keep going for we want to ford the river before
dark," said Mr. Waterman.
"What river?" asked Pud.
"The Escoumains," said Mr. Waterman. "That is the name of the river at
the little village from which we started. The village is called after
the river. You will get to know this river well before the summer is
over, for we'll run down it to the village some time."
"Are there any rapids?" asked Bob.
"You can't find any river in this country without fast water here and
there," said Mr. Waterman. "The only difference is that some rivers have
faster water than others. After I have seen you on the lakes awhile and
have had the guides teach you a few things we'll take a try at some fast
water and you'll think that there is no better sport than shooting a
rapid."
"It must be great fun," said Bob.
Shortly afterwards, they struck the river and the road led up along the
bank. It followed the windings of the river and it was slow work. Every
now and then the driver yelled "Allons, Gi-may," and Bob racked his
brain to think what "Gi-may" meant. At last it came to him in a flash.
He turned to the driver and asked in French,
"Is the horse named Gi-may?"
"Oh, yes," said the driver. "He belongs to Monsieur MacPherson and he
calls him Gi-may."
"Oh, you mean Jimmy," said Bob.
"But, yes, Gi-may," said the driver, and Bob had solved the riddle. He
then told Mr. Waterman how he had tried to think what "Gi-may" meant,
thinking at first that it meant something like "Allons" but that he had
found out it was the horse's name.
It was getting dark when they came to the ford. Mr. Anderson yelled like
an Indian and his call was answered by a real Indian yell. A moment
later, two men appeared on the opposite bank.
"That's Joe and Pierre," said Mr. Waterman.
"How are we going to get across?" asked Pud.
"That's easy," said Mr. Waterman.
The driver answered Pud by driving the horse down the bank into the
water. The stream ran swiftly and the horse put his head down sniffing
the water as if frightened. The driver used the whip and the horse
proceeded.
"The river's pretty high," yelled Mr. Waterman to Mr. Anderson. "You had
better put those dunnage bags on the seat. That buggy of yours is lower
than this one."
"All right," came back the cry, almost drowned by the noise of the
carriage as it bumped on the rocks at the bottom of the river, the swish
of the water and the noise of the horse's hoofs. Each took his dunnage
bag on his lap and in the center of the river they had to lift up their
feet as the water came into the body of the buggy. It almost seemed that
they would be swept down the river. Bob looked at the driver and at Mr.
Waterman. Both had a look of unconcern on their faces so Bob felt that
things were all right. This turned out to be the case, for five minutes
later the horse came out on a sort of sand bar. The driver drove down
stream a little and then, putting the whip to the horse, they tore up a
steep bank and along a wood road. They had gone only a little distance
before they came to an opening where they found Joe and Pierre busy
about a fire. The other buggy came up in a moment and everything was
dumped out on the side of the road. Mr. Waterman had bought a lot of
supplies and this was the real reason why the two guides had met them
for they were needed to get the stuff back into the camp where they
planned to stay for a week or more. After paying off the drivers, the
latter turned and drove back.
"Are they going all the way back to Escoumains to-night?" asked Bob.
"Yes," said Mr. Anderson. "They will go back as far as that logging camp
we passed about four miles away. There they will give their horses a
little grain and as soon as the moon comes up they will be off, and back
in Escoumains about midnight. Those little Canadian horses are very
strong and can stand a lot of hard work."
Bob, Pud, and Bill stood around watching the guides and the two men as
they busied themselves about the fire.
"Let's have supper first," said Mr. Waterman. "Afterwards we'll pack up
the stores we have brought in and get them ready to carry so that we can
make a real early start and get to our camp in Lac Parent in time for
breakfast."
This was voted a good scheme by the others. Pierre was the guide that
was most noticed by the boys. He was a full blooded Montagnais Indian
and could not speak a word of English, though he talked French and his
own Indian tongue. He was straight as an arrow and moved with the
litheness and silence of the real Indian. Though his expression never
changed, the boys could see that he missed nothing that went on about
him. Joe was a little Frenchman. He could talk a little English and was
very proud of that fact.
"The dinnaire is prepair," said he to Bob with a smile.
"Ah, that's the kind of French I can understand," said Pud, as he moved
over towards the fire.
"Now be prepared to shout," said Mr. Anderson. "Here's some real trout
caught within the hour and cooked as only Joe can cook them."
He gave each of the boys a whole trout out of the frying pan and this,
with bread, butter, prunes and coffee, was their supper. The trout was
hot and all three boys stated that they had never tasted anything better
in their lives. They all meant it too. At their praise, Joe's face
lighted up, for he was proud of his cooking. They formed a real woodsman
picture as they sat or squatted around the fire eating their supper
without the use of plates or a table. The picture was rather out of
harmony, for the Indian and the Frenchman were the typical woodsmen, the
two older men hardened fishermen, but even the merest novice could see
that the three boys were unused to the woods and their present
surroundings.
But, in any case, the scene was not lost on the boys. The bright light
cast by the fire on the faces of the men and the dark shadows of the
woods formed a contrast that was fascinating to the boys. They could not
keep their eyes off Pierre with his silent but speedy movements, and his
impassive face, nor from Joe, who formed such a contrast with his
animation and gestures, his good-natured talk and his smile. Mr.
Waterman and Mr. Anderson sat to the side talking in low tones, and the
boys felt that these were two men worthy of their confidence. They
looked as though they would be ready for any emergency that might arise.
They were startled by a splash in the river. Pierre seemed to vanish as
if by magic into the trees on the side towards the river. Though he went
with great speed, the boys listened in vain to hear him tearing through
the bushes. All ears were tensed but not a sound was heard.
"Pierre will let us know what it is," said Mr. Waterman in a
matter-of-fact tone, as he motioned the boys to sit down again. "Don't
worry, there's nothing up here to do us much harm. Even the bears run
from us and it's necessary to hunt them carefully if you want to see
one, though we see traces of them every day."
As they were talking, Pierre came back almost as quickly and silently as
he had gone. He sat down by the fire and said about three words to Mr.
Waterman and relapsed into silence again.
"'Big fish,' he says," translated Mr. Waterman.
"It sounded like a deer to me," said Mr. Anderson.
"We'll look for tracks in the morning before we leave," said Mr.
Waterman.
He then turned to Pierre and talked to him in French.
"'No deer. Big fish,' he says," said Mr. Waterman as he turned around.
"Well, if he's sure of it, he's right," said Mr. Anderson. "They have
ways of knowing some of these wood matters that seem uncanny to us."
"Well, let's get to bed," said Mr. Waterman.
They all turned to their dunnage bags and got out their sleeping bags.
Pierre and Joe had only a blanket and they lay down by the fire,
wrapping the blanket around their shoulders but otherwise making no
further preparation.
"Is that the way they sleep all the time?" said Bob.
"No, they probably did not want to burden themselves with anything
extra, as they have lots to carry to-morrow."
The guides had cut down some boughs and the boys soon had a fine bed
ready. They were stretched out looking up at the stars in a very few
moments and Bob felt that this was just the beginning of what promised
to be a most interesting summer. For some time he lay there, watching
lazily the fire as it occasionally threw into relief the green branches
of the trees, or made the shadows deeper and more mysterious. It was not
long, however, that he lay thus undisturbed, for the gnats, "les
moustiques" as the guides called them, began to buzz around and made his
life miserable. Over the fire, Bob had not been much bothered by this
pest but further away they soon became unbearable.
"Ye gods!" said Pud, as he sat up in his blankets. "I'm getting eaten
alive."
"Let's make a smudge," said Bob. "That will help some."
The two boys got up and soon had a real smudge throwing out a sickly
smoke over their blankets. All this time Bill slept peacefully. It
seemed that with his head buried in his blankets he was able to stand
the gnats, but the smoke got him. Evidently a good puff got under his
blankets, for he woke up suddenly and said in a choked voice,
"What in sin's going on? I'm choking. What's the idea?"
Just then a swarm of gnats enveloped his head and he ducked under his
blankets. No more was said, for Bill knew why the smoke was there. All
three covered up their heads and were soon asleep. It got real cold in
the middle of the night and the gnats became too torpid to move. The
boys slept like logs for they were tired. It could not have been more
than four o'clock when the cheery voice of Mr. Waterman was heard
calling them up.
"Out of your blankets, boys. We're going all the way to Lac Parent
before breakfast and that will take some hiking."
In a few minutes, the camp was a scene of the greatest activity. The
guides filled large dunnage bags with the provisions that had been
brought in. This was soon done and the boys had also packed their
blankets in their bags.
"Is everything ready?" asked Mr. Waterman.
"I think so," said Mr. Anderson. "You boys will have about all you can
handle to carry in your dunnage bags. We'll manage the rest all right, I
guess."
The guides led off after loading themselves with two large bags. Each of
them carried at least one hundred and fifty pounds. The Indian seemed to
handle his load with the greatest ease. He looked back and helped the
boys adjust their bags more comfortably, or so that they would carry
more easily. They had gone only a half mile when they came to a small
lake. It was only a quarter mile across it, but the guides had canoes
there. The loads were soon in the boats and they got the other side
very quickly. Then to the surprise of the boys, the Indian and Mr.
Waterman got the packs on their backs and then, lifting the canoes, they
got them over their shoulders and away they went.
"Gee whizz!" said Bill. "I thought you two had a big load on before but
you walk away with those canoes with ease."
"There's a great knack in carrying canoes," said Mr. Waterman.
"That's all right," said Pud. "But those two men must have at least two
hundred pounds on their backs and they are going right along."
"I'll admit," said Mr. Anderson, "that they have a larger load than
usual, but they are not going far and we'll relieve them on the next
portage."
The way led up across a ridge. Part of it was rather steep and the boys
found themselves panting as they got to the top and began the descent to
the next little lake beyond. They found Mr. Waterman and Pierre already
there and with the canoes in the water.
"That was some pull," said Mr. Waterman. "Pierre is in better condition
than I am. He doesn't seem to mind it a bit, but I found that a little
heavy before breakfast."
"We'll help with the dunnage on the next portage," said Bob. "My bag
does not feel very heavy. Let me try the canoe."
"I'll let you have the canoe," said Mr. Waterman, "but I'll take your
stuff."
This was done. Mr. Waterman showed Bob how to arrange the paddles so
that they would rest on his shoulders. He also showed him the use of the
small rope that Bob had noticed along the middle stay of the canoe. This
was put over the head so that when the canoe was rightly placed Bob was
carrying it on his shoulders, his forearms and also his head. He found
the weight well distributed and he walked away like a veteran. He found
it awkward work at first to keep to the trail and to avoid bumping the
canoe into the trees. He soon got used to this and went along finely. He
had no trouble until they got to the top of the little divide between
the two lakes and started down. They had gone down only a little piece
before he stepped on a piece of slippery moss, his feet flew out from
under him, and down he came with the canoe on top of him. Rather
crestfallen, he got up and began to arrange the paddles, etc., in place
again.
"Had a tumble?" said Mr. Waterman. "That was because you didn't have the
weight well balanced coming down the hill. You'll soon learn. Do you
need any help with the canoe?"
"No, I think that I can manage," said Bob.
He then caught hold of the gunwales of the canoe and started to lift it
over his head, but he plunged forward and down came the canoe again.
"Let me help you this time," said Mr. Waterman. "When we get to camp and
get rid of these packs, I'll show you just how to do it. It's easy when
you know how."
Bob once more had the canoe on his shoulders and arrived at the next
lake without further mishap. They found every one waiting for them. They
were soon across and after one more portage, they reached Lac Parent.
Far down the lake, they saw smoke rising.
"Jean is waiting for us," said Mr. Anderson to Mr. Waterman.
"Is there another guide?" asked Bob.
"Oh, yes," replied Mr. Waterman. "We have Pierre's son with us. He was
told to have breakfast ready for us at six o'clock and I'll bet he's
been waiting for some time, as it has taken us a little longer than I
expected to get here."
The two canoes sped down the lake. The boys looked around with much
interest. There was a real mountain on the far shore of the lake, part
of which came down to the water very precipitously. The small islands
in the lake made it more picturesque. They soon rounded a point of land
and came full on the camp lying before them. With its line of tents, the
smoke curling up from the fire, and the beauty of the forests in the
background, it made a scene that would rejoice any fisherman's eye. As
they came to the shore, Jean came running down. He was a big fellow for
his age, seventeen. He had very regular features like his father, and
was remarkably well built.
The boys landed and one and all felt that at last they were fairly in
the woods and ready for whatever might befall.