“I’m not much on speeches,” he laughed, nervously, as he grasped the hands of his rescuers; “but I want you fellows to know that I feel what you did for me. It sure was a white thing to do, and any time I can do anything for you, just call on me like a pardner. I reckon Ben can tell you what that means in this country.”
The lads thanked him, and tried to make light of their exploit. Then they took their places in the canoe, and Ben put away from shore. Charley and his little crew waved their aprons and beat a loud salute on tin pans, and the foreman and some of his men accompanied the departing guests in the bateau as far as the log pile. Here more rousing cheers were given the voyagers, until they rounded a turn of the river and disappeared.
“Well, you fellows have made a hit with that crowd. Your names will be known along this river for a good many years to come,” said Ben, proudly. “How did you enjoy it all, anyway?”
“Ben, I’ve had the time of my life!” declared Ed. “As for the ‘lumber-jacks,’ as you call them, I think they are the manliest, jolliest, best all-round lot of fellows I ever met. As ‘Shorty’ would say, they sure treated us white.”
“They did that,” chimed in George; “and I want to say I have enjoyed it all immensely.”
“Well, I feel some better about having taken you, now, than I did yesterday, when I was running along the river-bank while you were out there below the jam. I want to tell you that you had a mighty close shave, boys, and I’m powerful thankful it turned out as it did,” he added, soberly.
XXV
CALLED HOME
It was well toward the evening of the day following when they reached Ben’s cabin. The trip up the river had taken them the best part of two days. The canoemen were agreeably surprised to see Bill and Moze awaiting them at the landing.
“Helloa, you fellows! Where have you been?” asked the trapper, as they stepped ashore and grasped him warmly by the hand.