"For a hundred reasons, every one of which is better than the other," resumed Keen-hand.
"I should like to know the first," said the Canadian.
"Well, it is a very excellent one, I think. You and I and the chief are used to these diabolical roads, which is far from being the case with our companions, which you ought to have observed without telling a very long time ago."
Both Oliver and Clinton tried to protest.
"No! No!" cried Bright-eye, in his frankest manner. "I am a brute. So say no more about it, as I proclaim it myself. Let us camp at once."
"Here is an excellent place," cried Keen-hand.
The hunters had halted under a grove of gigantic gumtrees. A fire was lighted, and each one, resting himself, prepared for the morning meal.
"Well, to tell the truth," said Oliver, gaily, "I will now confess that I needed repose; I was simply done up."
"I could scarcely put one foot before the other," observed George Clinton, who was stretched out on the grass.
"There!" cried Keen-hand; "Was I not right?"