“I know them better now.”
“Couldn’t find your road to save your life.”
“I think I could. Besides, you will be wanted at the island. I don’t think Mr. Dutton is a well man. With nobody but an old woman and a young girl he’ll need somebody. You’re not much good, still—”
Pierre laughed. They had about reached the forest and he rested his paddle.
“You hear me. I’m going to where you go. That was the master’s word. I wouldn’t dare not do it. If I did, my mother’d make me sorry. So that’s settled.”
Adrian had doubts as to the truth of this statement of the islander’s commands. He recalled the words, “as far as you desire.” After all, this was not setting a time limit, and it was perfectly natural that anybody should like company through the wilderness. Why, it would be a wild, adventurous journey! the very sort of which he had dreamed before he had tasted the prosaic routine of the lumber camp. He had his colors and brushes, the birch-bark which served so many forest purposes should be his canvas. They had food, and Pierre, at least, his gun and ammunition—no lad could have protested further.
“All right. It will be a lark after my own heart. We can quit as soon as we’re tired of it; and—look here, Mr. Dutton said you were paid to take me to the nearest town. How far is that? How long to get there?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Donovan’s nighest. Might go in four days—might a week. Canada’s closer, but you don’t want to go north. South, he said.”
“Ye-es. I suppose so. Fact is, I don’t care where I go nor when. I’m in no hurry. As long as the money and food hold out, I’m satisfied.”
“Speakin’ of money, I couldn’t afford to waste my time.”