men's spirits. Sam Bolton clearly saw the North.
He felt against him the steady pressure of her resistance. She might
yield, but relentlessly regained her elasticity. Men's efforts against
her would tire; the mechanics of her power remained constant. What she
lost in the moments of her opponent's might, she recovered in the hours
of his weakness, so that at the last she won, poised in her original
equilibrium above the bodies of her antagonists. Dimly he felt these
things, personifying the wilderness in his imagination of the old man,
arranging half-consciously his weapons of craft in their due order.

Somewhere out beyond in those woods, at any one of the thirty-two points
of the compass, a man was lurking. He might be five or five hundred
miles away. He was an expert at taking care of himself in the woods.
Abruptly Sam Bolton began to formulate his thoughts aloud.

"We got to keep him or anybody else from knowin' we's after him, Dick,"
said he. "Jest as soon as he knows that, it's just too easy for him to
keep out of our way. Lucky Jingoss is an Ojibway, and his people are way
off south. We can fool this crowd here easy enough; we'll tell 'em we're
looking for new locations for winter posts. But she's an awful big
country."

"Which way'll we go first?" asked Dick, without, however, much interest
in the reply. Whatever Sam decided was sure to be all right.

"It's this way," replied the latter. "He's got to trade somewheres. He
can't come into any of the Posts here at the Bay. What's the nearest?
Why, Missinaibie, down in Lake Superior country. Probably he's down in
that country somewheres. We'll start south."

"That's Ojibway country," hazarded Dick at random.

"It's Ojibway country, but Jingoss is a Georgian Bay Ojibway. Down near
Missinaibie every Injun has his own hunting district, and they're
different from our Crees,--they stick pretty close to their district.
Any strangers trying to hunt and trap there are going to get shot, sure
pop. That makes me think that if Jingoss has gone south, and if he's
trading now at Missinaibie, and if he ain't chummed up with some of them
Ojibways to get permission to trap in their allotments, and if he ain't
pushed right on home to his own people or out west to Winnipeg country,
then most likely we'll find him somewheres about the region of th'
Kabinakagam."

"So we'll go up th' Missinaibie River first," surmised Dick.

"That's how we'll make a start," assented Bolton.

A