“Oh! you mean so that we could carry Pat between us, and the venison, too,” Sandy whispered back.
“Yes, what do you think of it, Sandy?”
“Seems like a good idea to me; and, if you say the word, I’ll begin to look about here right now, Bob,” the other answered.
He was about to make the first move when Pat, who had been listening, broke in upon the conversation of the brothers.
“A litter is it that yees would be afther makin’,” he remarked, quickly; “and to kerry me to camp like I was a dead soldier, so it be? Wull, I’ve no objections to ye makin’ wan av the same to kerry the mate; but, by me faith, ye’ll niver get Pat O’Mara to rist his bones on that litter unless he is out av his mind. An’ av ye be falin’ like another spell, lit’s be away.”
Of course, after that Bob could not insist, for only too well did he know the independent spirit of the Irish trapper. As long as Pat could put one foot to the ground he would persist in moving along; nor could Bob prevail on him to either throw his burden away, or divide it up between the other two.
“I’ll do me share av the worrk, or know the rason why,” Pat would answer back, every time the idea was mentioned; and, as long as he showed this obstinate streak, they could do nothing but let him have his way.
Bob was keeping his wits about him all this while. He noticed the direction they were taking, and could even give a pretty fair guess as to the distance yet to be traversed before they could hope to reach the tied-up boat.
“I don’t believe we are more than a single mile away from them now; is that so, Pat?” he asked, as they sat there, resting again.
“Sure, ye do be a smart lad, Bob,” replied the other, in his usual whisper, which the boys had come to imitate, though it gave a very mysterious air to their surroundings; “and, av I do know annything at all, that’s about the distance we sthill have to cover. But don’t be worryin’ about me; for I tell yees I can make it by hook or by crook. It ain’t often as Pat O’Mara—whist, he sthill now, both av yees!”