“Well, we’ll have to give some kind of imitation of the old ways once in a while,” commented Alex, “for though they are changed and gone, our young friends here want to know how the fur-traders used to travel.”
“One thing,” said John, feeling at his ankle. “I’ll be awfully glad when we get out of the devil’s club country.”
“Do you have those up in Alaska?” asked Alex.
“Have them?—I should say we have! They’re the meanest thing you can run across out of doors. If you step on one of those long, snaky branches, it’ll turn around and hit you, no matter where you are, and whenever it hits those little thorns stick in and stay.”
“I know,” nodded Alex. “I struck plenty of them on the trail up north from the railroad. They went right through my moccasins. We’ll not be troubled by these, however, when we get east of the divide—that’s a plant which belongs in the wet country of the western slope.”
All this time Moise was busy rearranging the cargoes in the first boat, leaving on the shore, however, such parcels as did not belong in the Mary Ann. Having finished this to his liking, he turned before they made the second trip on the Jaybird and her cargo.
“Don’t we catch any of those feesh?” he asked Alex, nodding back at the lake.
“Fish?” asked John. “I didn’t see any fish.”
“Plenty trout,” said Moise. “I s’pose we’ll better catch some while we can.”