At last Alex said, “I think this will do for the evening, if you don’t mind. It’s time we were getting on down to the steamer.”
The boys had with them their string of ducks, and Alex had piled up nearly two dozen of his own.
“What are we going to do with all of these?” said Rob. “They’re heavy, and our boat’s pretty full right now.”
“How many shall you want on the boat?” inquired Alex.
“Well,” said Rob, “I don’t know, but from the number of ducks we’ve seen I don’t suppose they’re much of a rarity there any more than they are with you. Why don’t you keep these ducks yourself, Alex, for your family?”
“Very well,” said Alex, “suppose you take half dozen or so, and let me get the others when I come back—I’ll pile them up on this muskrat house here, and pick them up after I have left you at the steamer. You see,” continued he, “my people live about two miles on the other side of the town, closer to the Hudson Bay post. I must go back and get acquainted with my family.”
“Have you any children, Alex?” asked Rob.
“Five,” said Alex. “Two boys about as big as you, and three little girls. They all go to school.”
“I wish we had known that,” said Rob, “when we came through town, for we ought to have called on your family. Never mind, we’ll do that the next time we’re up here.”
They paddled on now quietly and steadily along the edge of the marshes, passed continually by stirring bands of wild fowl, now indistinct in the dusk. At last they saw the lights of the steamer which was to carry them to the other extremity of Little Slave Lake.