The others laughed, and though Andrew admitted that Carnally's methods were primitive, he thought there was some excuse for them. Mappin might be considered an outlaw, against whom any weapons could be used.
They went to sleep soon after supper, and resuming the march the next morning, they spent two arduous days transporting the canoe to the nearest water, and paddled down it, seeing nothing of Mappin's men. The canoe received some damage when running a rapid into a lake and it cost them a day to repair her, though Carnally showed much impatience at the detention. When dusk fell they sat smoking by the fire, for the night was cold. The wild cry of a loon rang at intervals across the palely gleaming water; the resinous smell of the spruces was in the air; and the soft splash of ripples upon the shingle accentuated the stillness.
The loon's call suddenly broke off in the middle, and Carnally got up sharply. A little later he pointed to a dark speck which appeared out on the lake.
"The loon," he commented. "It was in the shadow by the big stone and must have swum a good piece under water. Somebody scared the bird; now it's gone again!"
The black spot vanished and Carnally stood still in fixed attention while Andrew's heart began to beat quickly. He could hear nothing, but he knew that Carnally was seldom mistaken in matters of this kind. Some minutes passed, and then as footsteps broke the silence, Carnally beckoned Graham to give him a rifle they had brought.
"Come out of the bush so we can see you!" he cried.
A shadowy form appeared against the gleaming water and stopped.
"What do you want?" Carnally asked. "Are you alone?"
"Something to eat," said the stranger. "There's nobody with me."
"One of the Mappin crowd, I guess. Where's the rest of you?"