“Let me go and watch it?” asked Paul, who was now the constant associate of the other boys in their work and pleasures.
“Not this time,” answered Norman. “It isn’t exactly a bus, you know. We can take care of it all right.”
“Then we’ll have dinner at the good old Alberta,” suggested Roy with his features aglow, “do our errands, and start back about three o’clock. It’s a cinch. With the river for our guide, we ought to give you a beefsteak about nine o’clock.”
“And don’t forget a few magazines,” put in Paul.
This flight, which began promptly on time the next morning, after an early breakfast of toasted bannock, bacon and the inevitable tea, which Philip never spoiled with smoke, however, was made with all the ease of the exhibitions at the Stampede.
The Gitchie Manitou was wheeled out of the hangar for a thorough inspection. Then the boys climbed in and the engines were started. With a wave of the hand they were off.
For a short time after the yellow-winged monoplane had mounted and turned south and westward over the vapory river, the boys had a new sensation. The rising fog started air currents which for a time they did not understand. Perhaps Norman’s hand was a little out of a practice and at times Roy showed nervousness.
When Norman finally guessed the cause, he mounted higher and took a course over the uplands where, as the sunshine cleared the atmosphere, the Gitchie Manitou became more easily manageable. The line of vapor rising from the river some distance on their left was sufficient guide. This at last disappeared in turn and Norman threw the car back on its old course.
Once again above the river, whose brown, oily surface now shone clearly beneath them, Roy especially busied himself with the many attractions of the stream. Animal life was plentiful and, despite Norman’s renewed protests, his companion insisted now and then in fruitlessly discharging his rifle at small game.
They made better time than fifty miles and made a safe landing on the heights opposite Athabasca some time before eleven o’clock. What had seemed to them, from Athabasca, to be an uninhabited bluff, was now found to contain several poor cabins. Afraid to leave the car alone near those who would certainly be curious, Norman decided to stay with the monoplane and Roy undertook to visit the town across the river. But dinner at the Alberta was eliminated and Roy, in addition to his mail and meat and magazines, was to bring back luncheon for both the aviators.