“Well, I guess if I want to get you fellows to the lumber camp alive, I’d better start soon,” laughed the guide. “Maybe we’ll go to-morrow; I’ve got some business to attend to over there, anyhow.”
The boys were overjoyed, for this was the trip they had been looking forward to for months. They plied Ben with all sorts of questions regarding the life of such a place. He told them enough stories to raise their anticipations, and then ordered them to pack the things they wished to take, for, as usual, they would be away by daybreak.
It seemed useless for the lads to close their eyes that night. Sleep was impossible while their minds were filled with the details of log-drives, and jams, and birling contests, and all the things incidental to life in a lumber camp. Accordingly, restless and impatient, they tossed about in their blankets, waiting for daylight and the time to be off.
XXIII
OFF TO THE LUMBER CAMP
To reach the river which would take them thirty miles on its racing waters to the lumber camp on its shore, the three voyagers were obliged to traverse the length of the lake, portage through the woods to the splendid sheet of water from which they had gone to the beaver-dam, and paddle the entire length of this large lake, whence they must take to land and carry to the river.
The morning was well advanced when Ben set the canoe down on the river-bank and wiped the moisture from his forehead.
“Very warm, isn’t it?” said Ed, slipping his pack and dropping down to rest in the shade.
“You bet!” declared George, as he did likewise.
Ben stood with his back to them, and seemed to be thinking about something. He gazed intently at the yellow water gliding swiftly along beneath him. He noted the effect along shore of the “going out” of the ice with the recent flood.