“Don’t waste your words thanking me,” cautioned Amesbury. “Wait till I get you out in the bush. I’ll get my money’s worth out of you chaps.”
“‘See-saw, Margery Daw,
Johnnie shall have a new master;
He shall have but a penny a day,
Because he can’t work any faster.’”
He stretched his long arms, yawned, untangled his ungainly legs from the knot into which he had twisted them, and rose to his feet, remarking:
“Do you see where the sun is, fellows? It’s time to be going. You can lash these traps of yours on the top of my flat sled. Ahmik and I left our flat sleds just below here.”
“My criky!” exclaimed Paul. “The sun’s setting. I didn’t realize it was so late.”
In accordance with Amesbury’s suggestion all of their things, save their guns, were lashed on one of the long, narrow toboggans upon which he and Ahmik hauled their provisions and camp outfit, and the four turned toward the post, in single file, Paul and Dan highly elated with the prospect of presently turning homeward.