The Greatest Works of Emerson Hough – 19 Books in One Volume (Illustrated Edition). Emerson Hough

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The Greatest Works of Emerson Hough – 19 Books in One Volume (Illustrated Edition) - Emerson Hough


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grumbled John, “coming through here where those old fur-traders knew every foot of the country.”

      “Well, we’ll see,” said Alex, rising, filling his pipe and tightening his belt to begin the day’s work. “It may not look so tame before we get through! But first,” he added, “we’ll have to see if we can get the boats to the open water of the lake. Come, it’s time to break camp now for the first day’s journey.”

      IV

      THE GREAT DIVIDE

       Table of Contents

      To boys as familiar with camp work as were Rob, John, and Jesse, the work of breaking camp in the morning was simple. In a few moments they had their tent down and rolled up ready to put in the canoe. Their beds also were rolled, each in its own canvas, and lashed with a rope. Their rifles, which, kept dry in their cases, had been placed under the edge of their blankets as they slept, were now leaned against the bed-rolls. Their knapsacks, in which each boy had his personal belongings, such as brushes, combs, underwear and spare socks, were very quickly made ready, and placed in order each with its owner’s bed-roll. In a very few minutes they stood up and showed Alex that they were ready.

      Meantime, Moise had put his pots and pans into the sack which served him as a cook’s box. His flour and bacon he quickly got ready in their packages, and even before the boys were done with their work he was carrying these parcels down to the first canoe, which was to serve as the cook’s boat. The beds of Moise and Alex, simple as they were, required only a roll or two to be ready for the boats.

      “We’ll fix a system,” said Alex, “so that we’ll load each boat just the same every day. There’s nothing like being regular when you’re on the trail.”

      “I’ll bet, Alex, she’ll not be a harder boss than ol’ Pete Fraser, my wife, he’s onkle,” declared Moise. “He’ll make those men get up by two, three, in the morning an’ track two, three hour before she’ll eat breakfast, heem.”

      “Well, you see, we had to do a little reading this morning,” remarked John.

      “Surely, and to very good purpose,” answered Alex. “You ought to keep track of the old journal day by day.”

      “Exactly,” said Rob, “and I’m going to keep a journal of my own each day. We haven’t got any sextant to take observations, but I’ve got all the maps, and I’ve got a compass — maybe we’ll get out a Voyage of Discoveries of our own some day!”

      “Now, Moise,” said Alex, “you’re to go ahead with the cook-boat. You’d better take Mr. Rob for your bow paddler. I’ll let Mr. John take the bow in my boat, and our youngest friend here will go amidships, sitting flat on the bottom of the canoe, with his back against his bed-roll. The blankets and tent will make the seats. Of course, Moise, you’re not to go too far ahead. It’s always a good plan to keep in sight of the wangan-box and the cook’s chest, when you’re in the woods.”

      “All right,” replied Moise, “I’ll go slow with those boy all the time, yes.”

      “Well, we’re not any of us scared yet,” said John, stoutly, “and we won’t be.”

      “I hope we’ll get some white water to run,” added Rob, his eyes shining. Jesse was the only one who seemed to be not wholly happy. The silence of the great hills about him, situated as they now were far from all human habitation, made him feel rather lonesome. He kept up a stout heart, however, and soon forgot his troubles when the actual bustle of the departure was begun.

      “You’d better take the axes, Mr. Rob, and go ahead and cut out the way a little bit on this little creek,” said Alex. “I’m afraid the boats won’t quite clear.”

      “Aye, aye, sir,” said Rob, and soon he and the other boys were making their way in among the tangled thicket, sometimes in and sometimes out of the water, chopping away the branches so that the little boats could get through.

      “Will they float, do you think, Mr. Rob?” called Alex.

      “Like a bird!” answered Rob, as the first canoe, which was named the Mary Ann, soon took the water.

      “Here comes the Jaybird!” cried Jesse, as they pushed the other canoe over the last foot or so of grass which lay between it and the water.

      “Those boat she’ll be all same like ducks,” exclaimed Moise, admiringly. “I’ll bet not even my onkle Pete Fraser he’ll have better boat like those.”

      “Sir Alexander’s boat was twenty-five or thirty feet long, all made out of birch-bark,” said Rob. “Ours aren’t much over sixteen feet.”

      “They had eight or ten men in their boats,” began John, “and the most we’ll have in either of ours will be three — that is, if you count Jess as a full-sized man!”

      “Yes,” said Alex, “and they had a number of packs, each weighing ninety pounds. Now, all our packs won’t weigh a great deal more than that for each boat, counting in what we’re going to eat. We’ll have to get something in the way of meat as we go on through. Fine boats these, and much better than birch-bark. Perhaps you may remember that Sir Alexander was having trouble to find good bark to mend his boats before he got in here. We’ll not need to trouble about that.”

      “No,” said Rob, “we’ve got plenty of canvas, and rubber cement, and shellac, and tacks, and cord, and wire. We’ll make it through, even if we do have some little breaks.”

      “I don’t think we’ll have any,” replied Alex in a reassuring way. “Moise, don’t you think your load settles your canoe just a little deeper than she ought to go?”

      “Non! Non!” said Moise, in reply, casting a judicial look at the low freeboard of the Mary Ann. “She’ll go, those boat.”

      “She’ll be getting lighter all the time,” ventured Jesse. “John gets awfully hungry, and he’ll eat a lot!”

      They all laughed heartily at this reference to John’s well-known appetite. All were in good spirits when the real progress down the tangled creek began.

      “En roulant, ma boule, roulant!” began Moise, as he shoved out his boat — the words of the old Canadian voyageurs’ boat song, known for generations on all the waterways of the North.

      “Better wait until we get into the lake,” smiled Alex. “I don’t think we can ‘roll the ball,’ as you call it, very much in among these bushes.”

      They moved on down now, pushing and pulling their boat when they could not paddle or pole it. Sometimes they had to force their way through an embarras, as the voyageurs call a pile of driftwood. The boys, however, only enjoyed this sort of work. They were wet, but happy, when, after some time passed in this slow progress, at last they saw the open waters of the lake fully before them.

      “En voyage, messieurs,” cried Moise. “We begin!”

      V

      CROSSING THE HEIGHT OF LAND

       Table of Contents

      Before our young trail-makers now lay the expanse of one of those little mountain lakes which sometimes are forgotten by the map-makers. The ground immediately about the edge of the lake was low, flat, and overgrown. Only a gentle ripple crossed the surface of the lake, for almost no air at all was stirring. Out of a near-by cove a flock of young wild geese, scarcely able to fly, started off, honking in excitement; and here and there a wild duck broke the surface into a series of ripples; or again a fish sprang into the air, as it went about its own breakfast operations for the day. It was an inspiring scene for all, and for the time the Young Alaskans paused, taking


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