wear had begun to worry them. The rough
usage was beginning to tell heavily on their boots, which were already
ripping, and which had begun to wear through the soles; they would
hardly hold together for another fortnight. But the boys bound them up
and patched them with strips of the deerskin, and kept hard at work.

In the course of the next two days they thoroughly examined all the
country within five miles of their present camp. On the evening of the
second day they finished the last of the oatmeal, and Horace examined
the remaining supply of Graham flour with anxiety.

"Just about enough to get home on, boys," he said, looking dubiously at
his companions.

"But we're not going home!" cried Mac.

"The flour and beans'll be gone in another week, and we're a long way
from civilization. Can we live on meat alone, Mac?"

"Pretty sure to come down with dysentery if we do--for any length of
time," admitted the medical student reluctantly.

There was silence round the fire.

"We didn't start this expedition right," said Horace, at last. "I
should have planned it better. We ought to have come with two or three
canoes and with twice as much grub, and we should have brought several
pairs of boots apiece."

He thrust out his foot; his bare skin showed through the ripped leather.

"Make moccasins," Mac suggested.

"They wouldn't stand the rough traveling for any time."

"What do you think we ought to do, Horace?" asked Fred.

"Well, I hate to retreat as much as any one," said Horace, after a
pause. "But I know--better than either of you--the risk of losing our
lives if we try to run it too fine on provisions. At the same time I
do think that we oughtn't to give up till we've reached the head of
this river. It's probably not more than ten or fifteen miles up."

After some discussion they decided that Macgregor and Fred should make
the journey to the head of the river, carrying provisions for three
days; that would give them one day in which to prospect at the source.
Meanwhile, Horace was to strike across country to the northwest, to the
headwaters of the Whitefish River, about fifteen miles away.

The next morning, therefore, they carefully cached the canoe, the tent,
and the heavy part of the outfit, and started. They were all to be
back on the third evening at the latest, whether they found anything or
not.

Fred and Mac made a wide detour to avoid the hut of the trappers. They
had a hard day's tra