Thus rattling on and unhesitatingly offering advice on all subjects connected with dog-sledging and snow-shoeing, even going so far as to express the opinion that for their work Norwegian skis would be far better than the ordinary snow-shoe of the country, Phil succeeded within a few minutes in establishing the fact that his long-cherished expedition was really to be undertaken.
As he remarked in a low but exultant tone to Serge after they had gone to bed that night: “Hurrah for snow-shoes and sledges, old man! We have got them at last, as I told you we would from the very beginning.”
And Serge, who was almost asleep, roused himself sufficiently to reply: “What did you say? Oh yes, I know. Hurrah! Good-night.”
Whereupon the Yankee lad disgustedly hurled a pillow at him with such force as to effectually banish sleep and provoke retaliation that resulted in Phil’s bed coming down with a crash. Upon this its occupant remarked that he always did despise civilized beds anyhow, and that hemlock boughs in front of a rousing camp-fire were good enough for him.
In the meantime some of the preliminaries of the tremendous journey, to which the boys looked forward with such delight and their elders with so many misgivings, had been arranged that very evening. The best obtainable map of the Yukon was studied, and marked with such private information as was possessed by the missionary.
“If you could only overtake them before reaching the Tanana River,” he said, reflectively, “you might cut off the great arctic bend of the Yukon, and save several hundred miles by going up the former river, crossing a divide to a branch of Forty Mile Creek, and following it down to the camp at its mouth. I suppose, though, they will have passed the Tanana long before you get there, and so you will be obliged to follow the great bend for fear of missing them.”
“I suppose so,” assented Phil, “but I don’t care. The longer the trip the more fun we’ll have.”
“You will find it long enough before you get through,” remarked Gerald Hamer, significantly.
“I hope so,” returned the irrepressible lad. “I like to have enough of a good thing.”