“This was my first camp,” explained Amesbury. “I built it twenty years ago. There’s a Hudson Bay post down the lake, and in those days I didn’t want to wander too far from a base of supplies. I come in here and do a little bear trapping after I leave Indian Lake, and every two or three years take a run down to Winnipeg in a canoe. I take some of my provisions in from here, and get some from your old friend Davy MacTavish.”
Here they went into camp, and before the ice in the lake broke up made a snowshoe trip to the post, where flour, sugar, pork and other necessities were purchased and hauled back on toboggans.
This period of waiting was very tedious to the lads. The snow was becoming soft and wet, the woods were sloppy, and had less of attraction than in the crisp cold weather of midwinter.
One night in May a heavy rain set in, and for a week it fell in a steady downpour. The snow became slush, and when the sun came out again, now warm and balmy, much of the ground was bare, and Moose Lake was nearly clear of ice.
“Now for the canoe and the homestretch,” announced Amesbury, upon looking out upon the water and clear sky. “Tomorrow we’ll start. What do you fellows say to that?”
“Bully!” exclaimed Paul. “I can hardly wait for the time when I’ll get home.”
“’T will be fine t’ be afloat ag’in,” said Dan, “an’ I’m wantin’ wonderful bad t’ see Mother an’ Dad, an’ tell ’em about my cruise.”
“I thought you’d be ready to go. Big tales you chaps will have to tell of your adventures. I almost wish I were going with you,” and Amesbury looked wistfully down over the lake.
“Why you are, aren’t you?” asked Paul.
“Yes, as far as Winnipeg, to be sure. I want to see you chaps safe aboard the train. Couldn’t take chances on your getting mixed up in any more trouble,” he laughed.