ists
that it gave little if any help, and the friends were disappointed to
find it difficult to make any progress at all.

At this trying juncture, they found themselves once more on the bank of
a stream that had to be crossed before they could go any further. It was
fully double the width of the one last passed, but did not look as if it
was deep.

"My clothes ain't all dry yit," said Terry, "and I'm in favor of wadin'
if we can."

"I am afraid it is too deep for that, and with our guns and bundles and
thick clothes it isn't an easy thing to swim. Besides it's colder than
it was last night and it won't be pleasant to spend a few more hours in
wet clothing: mine is about dry."

Fred added that if they should decide to push on, the only way of doing
so was by the usual means of a raft. It would take considerable time to
build one, and probably still longer to work their way to the other
side.

"No use of waitin'," said Terry; "let's take hold; I've an idaa that we
ain't far from the cabin and ivery mile that we can make now counts."

Fred started to give his help, when to his unbounded amazement, he
narrowly missed going headlong over a small Indian canoe that lay at
their feet. They would not have been more surprised had they come upon
Deerfoot himself in a sound slumber, and not until they had stooped down
and examined it closely were they certain that it was not some log
fantastically shaped by nature that had floated thither.

But an Indian canoe it was beyond all mistake, though after searching
all around it, they failed to find the paddle so necessary for its
propulsion. The boat had been drawn up the bank, underneath some bushes
and undergrowth, where it would not have been seen by any one further
off than six feet. It was so far back too from the stream that it would
require an unusual overflow to carry it away.

It was not so dark that the lads could not see that it was of beautiful
pattern and fine make--one of those delicate vessels which under the
skillful guidance of its owner skim like a swallow over the water. It
was a prize indeed.

Now, as you very well know, there is nothing wonderful about an Indian
canoe, but the astonishment of the boys came from the fact that they
found it in this place. Fred Linden, in listening to the accounts given
by his father on his return in the spring from his trapping expeditions,
had heard him say more than once that there was no Indian village
between Greville