He ordered them to follow after his men and he brought up the rear keeping a few yards behind them.
"What do you make of it, Bob?" Jack whispered after they had gone a short distance.
"Haven't an idea, but we'll probably find out sooner or later."
"I reckon."
They noted that they were traveling in a direction which made an angle of some forty-five degrees with the river and the way was up a gentle rise for more than an hour.
Suddenly, when they were nearly to the top of the hill, a large but low log cabin loomed up ahead.
"Guess we're there," Bob said in a low tone.
"You mean here, don't you?"
"It's all the same."
The five men, all breeds, were standing about the door, as they came up, as if awaiting further orders from their leader. He spoke some words to them, in a French dialect, which the boys, although they were fairly conversant with the language, failed to understand, but it was evidently an order for one of them to show the Indian where he was to stable the dogs. The man motioned for Lucky to follow him around back of the cabin and, without a word, he drove the team after him. The leader pushed open the door and, after slipping off his snow-shoes, told the boys to enter.