Yan came down, his face aglow with pleasure, and exclaimed: "It's close to, now! I saw the Pine woods. Just off there."
"How far?"
"Oh, a couple of miles, at most."
"That's what you have been saying all along."
[517] "Well, I saw it this time; and there is water out there. I saw that, too."
He tramped on, and in half an hour they came to the water, a deep, clear, slow stream, fringed with scrub willows, covered with lily-pads, and following the middle of a broad, boggy flat. Yan had looked for a pond, and was puzzled by the stream. Then it struck him. "Caleb said there was only one big stream through this swamp. This must be it. This is Beaver River."
The stream was barely forty feet across, but it was clearly out of the question to find a pole for a bridge, so Yan stripped off, put all his things in a bundle, and throwing them over, swam after them. Pete had to come now or be left.
As they were dressing on the northern side there was a sudden loud "Bang—swish!" A torrent of water was thrown in the air, with lily-pads broken from their mooring, the water pattered down, the wavelets settled, and the boys stood in astonishment to see what strange animal had made this disturbance; but nothing more of it was seen, and the mystery remained unsolved.
Then Yan heard a familiar "Quack!" down the stream. He took his bow and arrow, while Pete sat gloomily on a hummock. As soon as he peered through the rushes in a little bay he saw three Mallard close at hand. He waited till two were in line, then fired, killing one instantly, and the others flew away.