by Hugh’s calm acceptance of the dangers of the rapids, the Indian behind him spoke. His English, learned at the Indian school near Rudolm, was nearly as good as Hugh’s own, yet had the guttural burr of all Chippewa speech.
“You are going to Oscar Dansk’s?” he asked.
“I wish to,” answered Hugh without looking around. “Can you take me there?”
“No,” was the immediate answer; “the white deer has been seen in the woods near Jasper Peak and we Chippewas will not go where the white deer goes.”
“But I must go on,” insisted Hugh. “How can I ever find the way without you?”
“I will take you to the lake,” was the reply, “and around Harbin’s Channel into the upper end of the lake you can paddle alone. You can keep this canoe; it belongs to Oscar Dansk; he left it at Two Rivers, for his last journey he made overland.”
They went on and on, until Hugh, knowing long since that it was past midnight, began to feel that morning must be close at hand. They
