call their fox traps. Yes, this no doubt is the camp of a trapper
or two who live here in the winter-time."

"But where do they go in the summer?" asked John.

"Probably to some of their own villages. It's almost too late now to
trap foxes for their furs, so the chances are there will be no one here
until next winter."

"Why, then," said Jesse, his eyes brightening, "we could use this for
our house, couldn't we?"

"Precisely," said Rob. "That's just what we will do."

"That'll be fine," said John, his eyes brighter than they had been for
many an hour. "Now if we only had something for a good meal."

"Here's an old tin lard-pail they no doubt used for a water-pail," said
Rob, kicking about in the heavy covering of grass which lay on the
floor. "Now, I tell you, I'll go get some water; you clean the hut,
Jess; and, John, you go to the boat and bring over the box of crackers
and tomatoes."

With light hearts the others complied, each glad that now at least they
were free from the dangers of the sea.

"I believe we're going to be all right here, John," said Jesse, as the
latter started toward the boat.

"Surely we will," said John. "Only I know I want a drink pretty badly."

When they met at the door of the hut a few moments later Rob offered
them his kettle of water, from which he had not yet drunk. John took a
deep draught and spat it out with a wry face.

"Salt!" he exclaimed. "That's awful!"

Rob looked at him in surprise.

"That's strange," said he. "I saw the creek tumbling right down through
the alders into this little lake, and it must be fresh water." He
scratched his head. "Oh, I know," said he. "The tide backs up in here to
the foot of the little falls. Give me the kettle. It's shallow out there
in front, and there's rocks. We'll cross the lake to get a drink!"

Suiting the action to the words, he went off on a run, and this time
when he returned he had the pail full of excellent fresh water, cold as
ice.

"I got my feet wet," said he; "but never mind that. I've learned
something else--or, at least, I think I have."

"What's that?" asked Jesse.

"Why, it's this. Our crackers and tomatoes won't last very long, and we
can't eat moss or dried grass. We've got our fishing-lines done up in
the bedrolls in the boat, and if we can't catch any codfish in the bay,
there'll be a time before long, unless I'm mistaken, when there'll be
salmon in this creek. They say they run in every river on the Alaska