VII
IN THE HEART OF THE WILDERNESS
The boys were awakened in the morning by Indian Jake entering the tentwith a kettle of water for the tea. The candle was lighted, and thehalf-breed, in better humor, or at least more talkative than on theprevious evening, greeted them with a cheerful enough:
"Mornin', lads."
"Mornin'," said they, and David added: "Did much snow fall?"
"Just a light fall, and it's clear and fine, and the wind's aboutgone."
There was no time for dawdling in bed, and the two lads sprang up andmade their simple toilet. Already the tent was warm, and they rolledtheir sleeping bags and tied them into neat bundles, and then sat bythe cozy, crackling stove while Indian Jake fried the pork and madethe tea.
"Will we get to the rapids today, Jake?" asked David, when finallyIndian Jake, after removing the pan of pork from the fire and placingit before them on the ground, poured tea into the tin cups they heldout to him.
"If the wind don't come contrary to us," said Indian Jake, dipping apiece of bread into the pan and bringing it forth dripping with hotgrease. "It's a long pull from the mouth of the river ag'in' th'current, but we'll try for it. We'll be losin' no time, leastways, forthere's no time t' be lost if we gets t' Seal Lake before th' freezeup, with our late start."
"We'll work hard for it, _what_ever," declared David. "'Twould be abad fix t' be caught by th' ice before we gets to Seal Lake."
"That it would," agreed Indian Jake. "But you lads are goin't' findthe work gettin' there harder'n any work you ever had t' do."
The first hint of dawn was in the East when they broke camp and setforward upon their journey again. The air was brisk and frosty, butwhen the sun rose it shone warm and mellow, and the snow melted andtrickled in glistening rivulets which ran down everywhere over therocks to join the river. That day they reached the rapids, and thenfollowed many days of tedious, back-breaking toil as they ascendedinto the higher country--days when the boys needed all the grit thatwas in them, and stout hearts, too.
Sometimes Indian Jake and David pulled the boat at the end of a rope,while Andy, with an oar as a rudder, or standing in the bow with along pole, steered it away from the shore and prevented its runningafoul of rocks. Thus they traversed a brook for some miles, when itbecame necessary to circumvent a section of the river where itthundered down through the hills in a great white torrent no boatcould stem.
From the head of the brook there was a carry, or portage, as theycalled it, of nearly two miles. Over this portage the boat must needsbe hauled foot by foot, overland. Several round sticks were cut forrollers, and the boat drawn over them by David and Indian Jake, whileAndy attended to placing the rollers and keeping them in position.
Then the provisions and other equipment were carried on their backs tothe place where the boat was to be launched. Indian Jake boretremendous burdens, with his voyageur's tumpline, which is theIndian's way. And David and Andy, with combined shoulder and headstraps, staggered after him with as heavy loads as they could carry,and did their best. Even then it was necessary to make three journeysover the trail before the last pack was delivered at the place wherethe boat had been carried. A whole day was occupied in transferringthe boat, and the larger part of another day in transferring thegoods, but Indian Jake cheered the lads with the assurance that it wasthe longest portage, and therefore the hardest work they wouldencounter on the journey.
"I'm glad enough of that," declared David. "I'm about scrammed, andI'm feelin' like I couldn't go much farther till I rests."
"That's just like I feels, too," admitted Andy.
"We'll make camp here for the night," said Indian Jake, "because 'tisthe best place to camp we'll come to before dark finds us. But everytime we feels weary we can't stop to rest. Travelers must keep goin'often enough when they're tired. There'll be tired days enough, too,before we reach Seal Lake, and there'll be tireder days on th' furtrails in th' winter, and you lads promised you'd keep your grit."
"Aye," admitted David, shamed by the rebuff, "we promised, and we'llbe keepin' our grit. I was forgettin', when I made complaint."
"And I was forgettin', too," said Andy.
Indian Jake never complained, and never admitted he was tired, andnever again did he hear complaint from either David or Andy, thoughoften enough they were almost too weary of evenings to eat theirsupper.
Whether Indian Jake appreciated their self-restraint and sturdytenacity, or accepted it as a matter of course, he never commentedupon it or uttered a word of approval, though he presently began totreat them more as companions and veterans than as novices. Sometimeshe even asked David's opinion upon some point, and when he did thisDavid felt vastly complimented, for there was no better woodsman inthe country than Indian Jake.
The nights were growing frosty. The ground was hard frozen, and thebowlders at the water's edge were coated with ice. But the riveritself, too active to submit so early to the shackles of approachingwinter, went rushing along in its course, now quietly, with a deep,dark, sullen current, now thundering over rocks in wild, tempestuousrapids that made the heart thrill with its force and power. Day andnight the rush of waters was in the cars of the travelers, but withalit was a pleasant sound. They thought of the river as a mighty livingthing, and as a companion, despite the toil it demanded of them.
"Th' river roarin' out there makes me solemn, like," remarked Andy oneevening after they had eaten supper and sat by the crackling stovewhile Indian Jake quietly puffed at his pipe.
"How, now, does she make you solemn?" asked David.
"I were thinkin' how she keeps rushin' on an' roarin' that way,always," Andy explained. "She were goin' that way before we were born,and she'll keep goin' that way after we're dead, no matter how old welives t' be. She'll keep goin', and goin', and goin', and there'snever like t' be an end t' her goin' till th' world comes to an end.And I were thinkin' how much she'll see that none of us'll ever see.Other folks'll be comin' in here t' trap just like we're comin'now--after we're dead--and we won't know it, but th' river will."
"And there's no end t' th' water that feeds her," added David. "Iwonders where it all comes from."
"I wonders, now," mused Andy.
"There's no doubtin', now, she's been runnin' like that since th' Lardmade th' world," continued David. "'Tis hard t' understand where allth' water comes from."
"I'm thinkin', now," and Andy's voice was filled with awe, "th' Lardmade un that way, and fixed un so there'd never be lack o' water. Iwonders, now, if th' Lard keeps watchin' her all th' time, and ifshe'd go dry if He didn't keep lookin' out for un."
"Th' Lard watches un all th' time," said David. "There's no doubtin'that. Th' Lard watches out for everything, and He even knows whatwe're thinkin' this minute."
"I wonders if He does, now?" and Andy's eyes were filled with wonder."Do you think, Jake, th' Lard made th' river, and keeps watch thatshe's always got plenty o' water?"
Indian Jake shifted uneasily, and reaching over to snuff the candle,grunted:
"Hugh! I think sometimes the devil made her, th' way we have t' fighther t' get up t' Seal Lake."
"'Tweren't th' devil!" objected Andy, horrified at the suggestion."'Twere th' Lard made she. We couldn't get t' Seal Lake without she,though she is a bit hard t' go up sometimes."
"Pop says th' Lard makes it hard for us t' master th' good things Hemakes for us," said David. "That's so we'll know how good they areafter we masters un."
"You lads'll be gettin' homesick, and you talks about such things,"broke in Indian Jake, knocking the ashes from his pipe. "It's time t'turn in."
And so the days of toil continued, until one morning they entered alake, and David gave a shout of joy and announced to Andy that thework of long carries and hauling the boat through rapids was at anend.
"We're 'most to th' Narrows tilt," said he. "This is th' lower end ofSeal Lake, and just above here is th' Narrows."
And so it proved. When presently the lake narrowed down into a shortstr
ait and directly opened into a far extending expanse of water,David pointed excitedly to the eastern shore, some four hundred yardsabove, with the exclamation:
"There 'tis, Andy! There 'tis! See un?"
And a few minutes later the boat's prow grounded upon a sandy beach atthe point David had indicated and at the mouth of a small river whichemptied into Seal Lake at the head of the Narrows, and there in theedge of the forest that bordered the beach nestled the little log hutthey called a "tilt."
"Here we are at last," said Indian Jake, who was in an amiable stateof mind, "and I take it you lads are glad enough t' be here."
"'Tis fine!" exclaimed Andy.
"'Tis that," seconded David, "and fine t' get here ahead o' th'freeze-up."
"Now we'll tidy th' place up and get it ready to stop in," said IndianJake, "and store our outfit away."
Even Andy had to stoop to enter the low door, though, within, theceiling was amply high for Indian Jake to stand erect. The room wasabout ten feet square, and was fitted with low bunks on two sides. Itcontained a sheet-iron tent stove, with the pipe, which answered thedouble purpose of pipe and chimney, extending up through the roof.
They set about at once to make the place hospitable and comfortable.Rubbish was cleared away and the earthen floor swept clean with ahandful of twigs, which answered well enough in lieu of a broom. Thenfragrant balsam and spruce boughs were spread upon the bunks for abed, and finally the outfit was carried up from the boat andconveniently disposed of, and a fire kindled in the stove.
The relaxation after the long, hard journey, was doubly acceptable.The wood crackling in the stove, the spicy perfume of balsam, and thesense of a secure retreat, gave the tilt an air of coziness andcomfort the boys had not experienced since leaving The Jug. This wasto be their headquarters and their home for many months, and theirplace of rest and relaxation.
David brought a kettle of water from the lake and set it on fordinner, while Indian Jake turned some flour into a pan, and begandexterously mixing dough for hot bread.
"We made good time," he remarked good-naturedly, as he fitted a cakeof dough into the frying pan. "It's the second day of October, and thelake won't fasten for another week, _what_ever. There's some geeseabout yet, and we'll get some of 'em. They'll make a good change nowand again, later on."
"That'll be fine!" exclaimed David.
"We'll do all th' huntin' we can in daylight," said Indian Jake, "andof evenings get our stretchin' boards in shape for the time when we'llneed 'em. And I expect there'll be some pa'tridges--"
Indian Jake suddenly paused in his work to listen. He had but a momentto wait, when there broke forth startlingly near a heart-rending howl.It rose and fell in mournful cadence, dying finally in a long-drawn"Woo-oo-oo," so near that it sent the blood tingling in shiveringwaves up the spines of the boys.