“It will be a terrible journey.”
“It will, indeed, but both Jack and Joe know the way. I have talked to them. Their people have come on the hunting-path within a hundred miles of this place.”
“For myself, I care not,” said Claude; “but I grieve to think of my poor fellows, perhaps sinking and dying by the way. Would it not be almost better to rough it here through another winter, then, when the snow is gone, to walk the journey? Every day would then be bringing us into a warmer and better climate.”
“No, captain, it would not, and for this one of many reasons. If we take the journey now we can go in almost a straight line, for the creeks and streams will be frozen over in a few days. In summer we know not what détours we might not have to make, what streams or rivers to ford or even swim.”
“I will be guided by your experience,” said Claude.
Early next morning, outside the wooden tent, Paddy O’Connell and boy Bounce were heard talking together loudly and excitedly.
“Is it true what you’re telling me, and sorra a word av a lie in it?”
“Which I walked all the way over, and ran all the way back to see,” was the boy’s reply.
“Och! bladderips!” roared Paddy; “och! the thieving spalpeens! Bad cess to them evermore. Sure if I had them I’d break every bone in their durty bodies. I’d murder every mother’s son or the two o’ them.”
He entered the tent as he spoke.