Mr. Hampton smiled slightly. On long trips into the wilderness, where men are thrown into intimate contact every hour of the day and night, they get to know each other better than would be the case through a lifetime of association under ordinary circumstances. It was so here. Mr. Hampton had come to love the silent, capable Farnum. Behind the latter’s bitter hatred of Lupo and his like, the easterner knew there was some good reason. He sensed a tragedy in Farnum’s past, about which, perhaps, the other would some day speak in a moment of confidence. And he forgave the man’s seeming brutality accordingly.
“All right, everybody,” said Mr. Farnum, cheerily. “Let’s pack up and be on our way.”
Thanks to Art’s previous preparations, the business of breaking camp was speedily concluded, and the party embarked in the canoes and once more got under way. Farnum and Art both considered that, because of Frank’s wounded shoulder and his inability to paddle, Art should take his place in the canoe with Bob and Jack while Frank went with Mr. Hampton and Farnum. But to this arrangement the boys protested vigorously, and Mr. Hampton settled the matter by supporting them.
“Bob and Jack are splendid canoeists,” he said. “They have given plenty of evidence of that on this trip, and at home they are always in the water when they aren’t flying. No, let Frank stay with them. They don’t like to be separated.”
CHAPTER XX.—IN THE FOG.
Another period of uneventful canoe travel followed, corresponding in time to the passage of a day, although there was nothing to mark the lapse except the slightly-deepened twilight preceding the reascension of the sun. Camp was pitched on an island in the stream which was small and compact and could be easily defended in case attack on them was renewed.
Of the latter contingency, however, Mr. Hampton felt there was little danger. With Lupo gone, the rascals composing his party would no longer be held to their purpose, and start to make their way out of the wilderness and back to their accustomed haunts.
When travel was resumed after an undisturbed camp, everybody felt rested and in a more cheerful frame of mind.
“We ought to be reaching the Coppermine soon,” Farnum exclaimed, as they set out.
His words were prophetic, because at the end of two hours, on rounding a bend, they discerned not far ahead a broad and rapid river, into which emptied the stream they had been following.