ly,
but now they ought to hurry on at top speed.

Just before they were ready to land in order to make camp, three ducks
splashed from the water just in front of the canoe. Fred managed to
drop one of them with each barrel of the shot gun. Thus the boys got
their supper without having to draw on their supply of venison; but the
roasted ducks proved almost as tough as rawhide and, without salt,
extremely unpalatable. But they were all so hungry that they devoured
the birds almost completely; they put the heads into the willow cage,
but the foxes would not touch them.

For three hours more they pushed on up the river, tired, silent, but
determined. At last it began to grow dark. The boys had reached the
limit of their endurance, for they had had no sleep the night before.
They landed and built a fire. It was hard work to get enough wood
without the axe, but fortunately the night was not cold.

Exhausted as the boys were, they knew that one of them would have to
stand watch to see that the foxes did not gnaw their way out of the
cage, and that the trappers did not attack the camp. They drew lots
for it; Macgregor selected the short straw and Fred the long one, and
they arranged that Mac should take the watch for two hours, then
Horace, and lastly Fred.

The mosquitoes were bad, and there were no blankets, but Fred seemed to
go to sleep the moment he lay down on the earth. He did not hear
Horace and Mac change guard at midnight, and it seemed to him that he
had scarcely done more than close his eyes when some one shook him by
the arm.

"Wake up! It's your turn to watch!" Horace was saying.

Half dead with sleep, Fred staggered to his feet. Moonlight lay on the
forest and river.

"Take the rifle," said Horace. "There's not been a sign of anything
stirring, but keep a sharp eye on the foxes."

Horace lay down beside Mac and seemed to fall asleep at once. Fred
would have given black foxes and diamonds together to do likewise, but
he walked up and down until he felt less drowsy. The foxes were not
trying to get out, and he saw that they had gnawed the duck heads down
to the bills.

He sat down against a tree, close to the cage, with the loaded repeater
across his knees. For some time the mosquitoes, as well as the
responsibility of his position, kept him awake.

Every sound in the forest startled him; through the dash of the river
he imagined that he heard the sound of paddles. But by degrees he grew