“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Rex promised. “But if he can mend that hole he’s good, that’s all.”
“He’s good all right as you’ll see before long.”
The Indian was back in a little less than a half hour with several long strips of birch bark and a little dipper made of the same material which Rex saw was filled with some kind of pitch.
“Rex, here, thinks you can’t mend that hole,” Jack told him.
“Heap big hole but Injun fix um.”
Rex watched the Indian fascinated as he smeared the edges of the cut both inside and out with the thick pitch. Then he put on a layer of birch bark and smeared the entire patch with more of the pitch. Then came a second layer of the bark followed by more pitch. This was repeated until not less than six layers of the bark had been applied. Then, after smearing the edges of the patch thickly with what remained of the pitch, he grunted:
“Um all fixed.”
“How long will it take it to dry so we can use it?” Rex asked anxiously.
“Be all right in morning,” the Indian assured him.
Fortunately it was a hot day and none of them suffered from their wet clothes which they had not removed. But they knew that the night would be cool and so, as soon as the canoe was finished, they built a big fire close against a ledge of rock which was back some twenty feet from the edge of the stream. There was an abundance of drift wood all about so they did not lack for fuel. They kept the fire going full blast until they were ready for bed and the rock reflected the heat to such an extent that they felt no need of the blankets.