"Where'd ye land, now?" asked Dick. "This side o' th' river or t' other?"
"This side o' un," answered Ed, complacently.
"'Tis sheer rock this side, an' no holt t' land on," said Dick, triumphantly.
"'Th' water were t' th' top o' th' rock," explained Ed.
"Then," said Dick, with the air of one who has trapped another, "th' hull country were flooded an' there were no falls."
Ed looked at him for a moment disdainfully.
"I were on th' ice six days, an' I knows."
The men were held in waiting for several days after the storm ceased for the river to clear of debris and sink again to something like its normal volume, before it was considered safe for them to begin the voyage out. Then on a fair June morning the boat was laden with the outfit and fur.
"Poor Bob," said Dick, as Bob's things were placed in the boat. "Th' poor lad were so hopeful when we were comin' in t' th' trails, an' now un's gone. 'Twill be hard t' meet his mother an Richard."
"Aye, 'twill be hard," assented Ed. "She'll be takin' un rare hard. Our comin' home'll be bringin' his goin' away plain t' she again."