Very soon Donald Blake and his brother came home. I told him of our sad trip, and asked him if he could go up and take grub to Mr. Hubbard and Wallace.
"Which river did you follow this summer?" Donald asks me.
"The Nascaupee River," I said, "and I came down by the same river again."
"When did you come out to Grand Lake?" he said.
"Yesterday," I replied.
"And how did you get across the lake?
"I did not come across at all, but I followed the south shore all the way."
Then he told me where the Nascaupee River was, and where it came out from to the Grand Lake within 4 miles northeast from here. I told him about which river we followed, the one at the head of the lake. He then tells me that we have taken the wrong river, and that the river we have followed was the Susan River.
Then I asked him, "What river was this one I crossed with the raft?"
He says, "That river was Beaver Brook or Beaver River."