redskin has
followed," said Ian, as he suddenly ceased work and rested his paddle on
the gunwale.

"It's of no use to remain where we are," replied the impatient Victor,
looking back at his comrade.

"Yes, it is," returned Ian, "the moon will rise in an hour or so and
enable us to make observations; meanwhile we can rest. Sooner or later
we shall be compelled to rest. It will be a wise economy of time to do
so now when nothing else can be done."

Victor was so tired and sleepy by that time that he could scarcely
reply. Ian laughed quietly, and shoved the canoe among some reeds,
where it lay on a soft bed. At the same time he advised his companion
to go to sleep without delay.

More than half asleep already, he obeyed in silence, waded to the shore,
and sat down on a bank to take off his moccasins. In this position and
act he fell asleep.

"Hallo!" exclaimed Ian, coming up with the paddles and pemmican bag;
"too soon, Vic, too soon, lad," (he tumbled him over on the bank);
"come, one mouthful of grub first, then off with the moccasins, and down
we go."

Victor picked himself up with a yawn. On ordinary occasions a
backwoodsman pays some little attention to the comforts of his
encampment, but our heroes were in no condition to mind such trifles.
They pulled off their wet moccasins, indeed, and put on dry ones, but
having done that they merely groped in the dark for the flattest piece
of ground in the neighbourhood, then each rolled himself in his blanket
and lay, or rather fell, down.

"Hah!" gasped Victor.

"Wa's wrong?" sighed Ian faintly.

"Put m' shoulder 'n a puddle, 'at's all," lisped Victor.

"T'ke't out o' the purl, then--oh!" groaned Ian.

"W'as 'e marrer now, eh?" sighed Victor.

"On'y a big stone i' m' ribs."

"Shove't out o' y'r ribs 'en an' 'old y'r tongue."

Profound slumber stopped the conversation at this point, and the frogs
that croaked and whistled in the swamps had it all to themselves.

Deep tranquillity reigned on the shores of Lake Winnipeg during the
midnight hours, for the voices of the frogs served rather to accent than
to disturb the calm. Stars twinkled at their reflections in the water,
which extended like a black mirror to the horizon. They gave out little
light, however, and it was not until the upper edge of the full moon
arose that surrounding objects became dimly visible. The pale light
edged the canoe, silvered the rocks, tipped the rushes, and at last,
tou