nd toe, drew the broad strap of
their carrying-thongs over their foreheads, and with a plunge and a
grunt sprang to their feet, each with a great hump of six score pounds.
Then we plunged, in Indian file, into a trackless forest, and jogtrotted
our way for three miles, when in a clump of pines, without a word or a
signal, down came the boats and the packs. Three of the splendid fellows
loosed their pack-thongs and took their rest in tramping back unloaded
to camp for what had been left. The others, with us, rested a few
moments: then we pushed on till two miles brought us out upon the low,
jungled shore of a beautiful lake about one mile by two in extent. The
guide, without a word, laid down his load, but not his clothes, and with
a swift rush sprang far out into the lake, swam up and down, splashing,
shouting and laughing, came dripping to shore, lit his smudge-fire, lay
down in a sunny place, snored an hour, awoke dry and vigorous, and with
a whoop he and Waisonbekton dashed into the woods to go back for their
share of the luggage left behind. While they were gone we enjoyed our
lunch and gave a name to the lovely lake which had rippled so long, far
away from the haunts of men, without identity. We christened it Rob Roy
Lake, in honor of our fleet. It lies half a mile to the south-west of
Upper Wild Rice Lake, into which its waters flow, and is set down on
Colton's sectional map in the township range numbered thirty-seven. Our
entire party reunited, we canoeists paddled across to the lake's outlet,
a narrow, miry stream which loses itself in a swamp, and that in turn
merges into the Upper Wild Rice Lake. We paddled and poled down to the
end of the little river, and came to a dead stand in the matted roots of
the swamp-grass: then waded waist-deep in the mire and slime, each
dragging his canoe with the aid of an Indian, until we came out upon the
open water. Thence a paddle of two miles along the coast brought us to
another little stream flowing into the lake. As we came to its mouth
Kawaybawgo was feasting upon a duck he had killed and broiled, of which
he offered me a portion with a smile and interrogative grunt which
seemed to compassionate my wet, weary and forlorn appearance. A splendid
pike, two feet long, came gracefully out of the stream and hung
motionless in the clear water. I pointed him out to the Indian and the
Hattie's captain, both of whom were standing near him. At the instant
their eyes fell upon him he