blaze new trails
rather than to waste time in traveling over the ground which David and
his men had so thoroughly covered. But Jean obstinately stuck to his own
viewpoint and insisted on re-traveling that territory. For three days
the old hunter led the young man on strenuous hikes that began with dawn
and ended long after dark. During that time Jean conducted David into
all sorts of forest nooks and crannies that the latter had not even
glimpsed when searching about with the men of the camp. Yet never did
they observe the slightest sign of the object of their search.

At the end of the week, Jean announced his resolve to invade an
especially wild and lonely stretch of forest to the west. "To-morrow
morning we start," he declared. "We go mebbe twenty-five, mebbe fifty
mile, mebbe more. Mebbe gone a week."

"But Tom could never have gone so far away in so short a time," reminded
David. "Besides, when last seen he was headed directly north."

Jean shrugged. "Mebbe he lose his way. Mebbe travel all night in storm
in wrong direction. Then----" Again Jean's square shoulders went into
eloquent play. "Anyway we go wes'," he stubbornly maintained.

The evening of another day saw them wending their difficult way
westward, according to Jean's plan. Surrounded by a particularly dense
and rugged stretch of forest growth they rolled up in their blankets and
slept under a great tree. Jean assured David that they had come not more
than fifteen miles, due to the difficulty they had encountered in
forcing their way through the endless undergrowth, though the young man
felt sure they had traveled fifty.

"I couldn't get those fellows from the camp to come over here for love
nor money," remarked David the next morning, as he and Jean fried their
bacon and made coffee over the fire. "They say that a wild man was once
seen somewhere in this range of forest. I guess it's all talk, though.
Mr. Mackenzie never saw him. He says it's a story made up by timber
thieves to keep people away."

Old Jean looked reflective. "Once I know wil' man," he remarked. "First
time I see him, jus' lak' any man. He great, big man; long black hair,
an' strong; very strong. 'Bout six foot, three inch. He live in little
cabin, 'bout hundred mile from here, wit' his son. Every year they go
Canada an' hunt. Then come back and sell skins. My, how that man love
that son! One day storm come an' tree fall on son. Kill him dead. Then
the father go wil'; crazy in the