“Yes. Horse all right here. You get ’um next year all right.”
“Very well,” said Uncle Dick. “We’ll just unpack and turn them over right here.”
The boys were very regretful at saying good-by to their faithful animals, especially the saddle-ponies which had carried them safely so far. They stood looking at them rather ruefully.
“Never mind,” said Uncle Dick. “Leo has got some hay for them, and they will winter well here. I’ll warrant you they’ll be very glad to trade the trail for this pleasant valley here, where they can live in idleness and get fat for a year.
“Now, about the boat, Leo,” he resumed.
“All right. Got two boats,” said Leo. “I make ’um.” And he led the way to an open spot in the bushes where there stood two newly completed boats, flat-bottomed and double-ended, with high sides, the material all made of whip-sawed lumber gotten out by Leo and his people.
Uncle Dick walked up to the boats and looked them over carefully. “Pretty heavy, Leo,” said he, “but they’ll do to run downhill all the way.”
“She’s good boat,” said Leo. “Need ’um strong.”
“Yes, about twenty-two feet long each one—that will carry us and our supplies nicely. You and your man will take one boat, and Moise and I the other. I think I’ll put the boys in our boat. What man are you going to get to go with you, Leo?”
“My cousin George; he’s good man. We make hunt last spring down the Canoe River.”