Agatha left
the mine with Thirlwell, Drummond, and a white rock-borer as well as the
half-breed packers. They poled up the Shadow for some distance, and then
followed a small creek, tracking the canoes, which were heavily loaded.
Indeed, when they carried the freight by relays across the portages,
Agatha was surprised to note the quantity of tools and stores. Since the
cost of transport made such things dear, it looked as if Thirlwell had
made her money go a long way.

As they pushed on the country got wilder. The rocks were more numerous,
the trees smaller, and in places they crossed wide belts where fires had
raged. The flames had burned off the branches, but left the trunks, and
the long rows of rampikes sprang from the new brush, shining a curious
silver-gray where they caught the light. The mode of travel, however,
did not change. Sometimes they paddled up sparkling lakes, and sometimes
dragged the canoes over ledges and gravel-beds in shallow creeks until
the water shrunk and they made a laborious portage across a rocky
height.

The journey was made as much by land as water, and at first Agatha
wondered that the men were capable of such toil, but by degrees she
found that she could carry more than she had thought, and laughing at
Thirlwell's protests, often struggled through the brush with a heavy
load. The hot sunshine that lasted so long, and the freshness that
followed when the shadows deepened, calmed and strengthened her. She
felt braced in mind and body; her doubts and impatience had gone. She
was quietly confident that they would find the ore.

But they did not find it, and at length the time Agatha had allowed
herself came to an end. It was possible that she had already lost her
post at the school, but if not and she wanted to keep it, she must
return at once.

She did not, however, mean to give up the search while their food held
out and there was no shortage yet, perhaps because the half-breeds often
went fishing and gathered wild berries. Then one hot day, when they
nooned beside a shining lake and she sat in the shade of a boulder, she
heard the men talking.

"The summer she is good," a _Metis_ remarked. "Me, I lak' better make
the prospect than the freight. _Chercher l'argent, c'est le bo' jeu!_"

"We haven't struck much argent yet," said the white miner. "I wonder
what the boss thinks and guess he's up against something. Walked past at
an awkward piece on the last portage as if he didn't see m