Moise talked awhile further with the two reticent breeds.
“My cousin Billy, he’ll say there’s old man about five, seex mile below there, an’ he’ll got dugout,” he said at last. “He’ll say twenty dollar for dugout.”
“That’s cheaper than Peterboroughs,” said Rob, smiling. “Anyhow, we’ve got to have it, because you can’t buy canoes in shops here on the Peace River. You tell these two men, Moise, to go down there in the morning and have the old man, whoever he is, bring his canoe up as soon as he can to the port. We’ll meet, I should say, about noon to-morrow, if all goes well. And as we’re now through the worst of it and seem to have pretty fair weather yet, I shall be surprised if we don’t get quite a bit farther east inside of the next twenty-four hours.”
“Then hurrah for Uncle Dick!” said John. “He’s somewhere down this river, and maybe it won’t be so very long before we run across him.”
“Hurrah! for all those boy also!” smiled Moise. “Pretty lucky, hein?”
XXIII
THE LAND OF PLENTY
Rob’s plans were approved by Alex and Moise, and worked out so well that by noon of the next day the entire party had reassembled at the rendezvous. The Jaybird was the first boat to be loaded, the men getting her down the steep bank with small delay and taking a rapid run of a couple of miles or so down the river soon thereafter. After a little time they concluded to wait for the other men who had gone down the river-bank to secure the dugout of an old Indian, who, it seems, was known as Picheu, or the Lynx.