As the large canoe ran its bow lightly on the sand, the first man who leaped ashore was La Roche. He seemed even more sprightly and active than formerly, but was a good deal darker in complexion, and much travel-stained. Indeed, the whole party bore marks of having roughed it pretty severely for some time past among the mountains. Edith’s face was decidedly darker than when she left Moose, and her short frock considerably shorter in consequence of tear and wear.
“Bad luck to ye, Losh! Out o’ the way, an’ let yer betters land before ye,” exclaimed Bryan, as he jumped into the water, and dragged the canoe towards the beach.
The only marks that rough travelling had put on Bryan were one or two additional wrinkles in his battered white hat; as for his face, it was already so thoroughly bronzed by long exposure, that a week or two more or less made no difference in its hue.
“Jump into my arms, Miss Edith,” said François, as he stood in the water beside the canoe.
“Steady, boy; mind the gum,” cried Massan, as Oolibuck strained the canoe roughly in shouldering a package.
“Look out ashore, there,” cried Dick Prince, throwing the tent poles on the beach as he spoke.
Regardless of the warning, Gaspard did not “look out,” and received a rap on the leg from one of the poles, whereat he growled savagely, and threw down a sack, which rested on his shoulder, so violently that it nearly knocked over Ma-istequan, who was passing at the time with the camp-kettle in his hand.
“What an ould buffalo it is!” exclaimed Bryan, pushing Gaspard rudely aside with his left shoulder, and hitching off La Roche’s cap with his right, as he sprang back to the canoe for another load. “Pardonay mwa, Losh, may garson,” he exclaimed, with a broad grin. “Now thin, boys, out wid the fixin’s. Faix it’s mysilf is plazed to git ashore anyhow, for there’s nothin’ gone into my intarior since brickfust this mornin’.”
At this moment the bow of the other canoe grated on the sand, and Frank Morton leaped ashore.
“Capital place to camp, Frank,” said Stanley, who had just finished pitching the tent on the scrimp herbage that forced its way through the sand. “There’s a splendid spring of pure water below yonder rock. I’ve just left my wife and Eda busy with the tea-cups, and La Roche preventing them from getting things ready, by way of helping them.”