“Hurrah!” I shouted just then, for right away down in a pool of the rushing stream I had caught sight of something sticking out just above the water.
“What is it?” cried Gunson, eagerly.
“The sheep under water. That’s a leg sticking out.”
“A piece of wood,” he said, contemptuously. “No: you are right. It is the sheep.”
We had a difficult climb down to the place, but did not heed that, for in a few minutes we had dragged out the prize, which Gunson soon lightened in a very business-like way, while I signalled to the others to come up.
Half an hour after we toiled down again, each bearing a quarter of the sheep, the beautiful head and skin being left as too heavy.
Our load was lightened at mid-day, and again at night, when we camped, and the rapid disappearance of that sheep during the next days was startling, for the fresh pure air and exercise created a tremendous appetite which it was not always easy to satisfy.
But somehow in our most hungry times we generally managed to get hold of provisions, either from the Indians or some settler. Twice over Gunson shot a deer, but the scarcity of bird and quadruped was very striking. There were plenty of berries, but they were not very satisfying food to hungry lads.
Esau proved a great help, though, twice during the many toilsome days which followed, by his discoveries in two streams, and I helped him to drive some delicious little trout into shallow water, where they were captured, to Quong’s great delight.
How many days and weeks had passed before we were busy by one of the small streams which ran down into the river I cannot now remember, for I have lost count. It seemed that we had been tramping on for a great while, and that it might have been last year when we left the sea.