p and fast, and
danced merrily over the moonlit sea--for a sea Lake Winnipeg certainly
is, being upwards of three hundred miles long, and a gathering together
of many waters from all parts of the vast wilderness of Rupert's Land.

After two hours of steady work they paused to rest.

"Now, Ian," said Victor, leaning against the wooden bar at his back, and
resting his paddle across the canoe, "Venus tells me that the sun is
about to bestir himself, and something within me tells me that empty
space is a bad stomachic; so, out with the pemmican bag, and hand over a
junk."

Ian drew his hunting-knife, struck it into the mass of meat, and chipped
off a piece the size of his fist, which he handed to his comrade.

Probably our readers are aware that pemmican is made of dried buffalo
meat pounded to shreds and mixed with melted fat. Being thus
half-cooked in the making, it can be used with or without further
cookery. Sewed up in its bag, it will keep good for months, or even
years, and is magnificent eating, but requires a strong digestion. Ian
and Victor were gifted with that requisite. They fed luxuriously. A
draught from the crystal lake went down their unsophisticated throats
like nectar, and they resumed their paddles like giants refreshed.

Venus mounted like a miniature moon into the glorious blue. Her perfect
image went off in the opposite direction, for there was not the ghost of
a zephyr to ruffle the deep. Presently the sun followed in her wake,
and scattered the battalions of cloudland with artillery of molten gold.
Little white gulls, with red legs and beaks, came dipping over the
water, solemnly wondering at the intruders. The morning mists rolling
along before the resistless monarch of day confused the visible world
for a time, so that between refraction and reflection and buoyant
spirits Victor Ravenshaw felt that at last he had found the realms of
fairyland, and a feeling of certainty that he should soon rescue his
brother filled him with exultation.

But the exultation was premature. Noon found them toiling on, and still
no trace of the fugitives was to be seen.

"What if we have overshot them?" said Victor.

"Impossible," answered Ian, "the shore is too open for that, and I have
been keeping a sharp look-out at every bend and bay."

"That may be true, yet Petawanaquat may have kept a sharper look-out,
and concealed himself when he saw us coming. See, here is a creek. He
may have gone up th