So they started out in Jack's white-cedar canoe, a beautiful craft, capable of a good rate of speed, and yet in competent hands wellnigh as seaworthy as a row-boat.
Ray took with him his air-gun, which was something more than a plaything, for it could send a heavy buckshot forty yards with sufficient force to kill a bird or squirrel, and at shorter distances was really an effective weapon for larger game.
They had a lively paddle down the river, for the breeze blew strongly astern, and good management was necessary to prevent the canoe shipping an occasional sea.
Landing at Oka, they spent some hours wandering about the Indian village, purchasing candy and getting drinks of cool spruce beer at a little French shop, and lying on the soft sward in the shade of the huge maples that fronted the big Catholic church.
They were in no hurry to return, because the longer they lingered the less wind and sea they would have to reckon with, and it was one of those deliciously lazy afternoons when even sturdy boys still in their teens do not hanker after any extra exertion.
It was accordingly well towards sundown before they again launched their canoe, and by this time only a gentle breeze ruffled the surface of the river.
Paddling straight up the middle of the broad stream, which at this place was really a lake, so widely did it expand, they had got about half-way home, when Ray, who was in the bow of the canoe, pointing to a dark object on the water a couple of hundred yards ahead, exclaimed, "Say, Jack, what do you make of that?"
Looking intently in the direction indicated, Jack, after a moment's hesitation, said, doubtfully: "I can't make out what it is. Could it be a young deer?"
"Perhaps it is," responded Ray, eagerly. "Let's paddle after it and see;" and he dug his blade deep into the water, making it bend like a bow with the sudden strain.
Nothing loath, Jack vigorously seconded his companion's efforts, and the canoe cut through the water at a rate that promised to quickly bring it close to the unknown creature ahead.