nd they slept soundly, being in truth more weary
than their spirits, exhilarated in the high air, allowed them to guess.

They might, as it turned out, by forcing the march, have found the
M'Lauchlins' settlement before dusk. For scarcely had they travelled
five miles next morning before they came on an outpost of it: a large
hut, half dwelling-house, half boat-shed. It stood in a clearing on the
left shore, and close by the water's edge was a young man, patching the
bottom of an upturned canoe. Two children--a boy and a girl--had
dropped their play to watch him. A flat-bottomed boat lay moored to the
bank, close by.

The children, catching sight of our travellers, must have uttered some
exclamation; for the young man turned quickly, and after a brief look
called "Good-morning." There was a ford (he shouted) fifty yards
upstream; but no need to wade. Let them wait a minute and he would
fetch them.

He laid down his tools, unmoored the flat-bottomed boat, and poled
across. On the way back he told them that he was Adam M'Lauchlin, son
of David. The little ones were children of his father by a second wife;
but he had seven brothers and sisters of his own. . . . Yes, their
settlement stood by the other river; at no great distance. "If you'll
hark, maybe you can hear the long saws at work. . . ."

He led them to it, the small children bringing up the rear of the
procession. The _Z'm--Z'm_ of the saws grew loud in Ruth's ears before
crossing the ridge she spied the huts between the trees--a congregation
of ten or a dozen standing a little way back from a smooth-flowing
river. Between the huts and the river were many saw-pits, with men at
work.

At young Adam's hail the men in view desisted, quite as though he had
sounded the dinner horn. Heads of others emerged from the pits.
Within a minute there was a small crowd gathered, of burly fellows
diffusing the fragrance of pine sawdust, all stamped in their degrees
with the M'Lauchlin family likeness, and all eager to know the
strangers' business.

Sir Oliver explained that he wanted a boat and two strong guides, to
explore the upper waters. He would pay any price, in moderation.

"Ay," said their spokesman. He wore a magnificent iron-grey beard
powdered with saw-dust; and he carried a gigantic pair of shoulders, but
rheumatism had contracted them to a permanent stoop. "Ay, I'm no
fearin' about the pay. You'll be the rich man, the Collector from
Boston."