always follow the shore until he
came directly opposite his trail on the other side of the lake--and
then strike north and west again. He travelled steadily, not only by
day but also by night, with only short intervals of rest, and the
dawning of the second morning found Miki more exhausted than the bear.

There were many evidences now that they had reached a point where the
fire had begun to burn itself out. Patches of green timber were left
standing, there were swamps unscathed by the flames, and here and there
they came upon green patches of meadow. In the swamps and timber they
feasted, for these oases in what had been a sea of flame were filled
with food ready to be preyed upon and devoured. For the first time
Neewa refused to stop because there was plenty to eat. The sixth day
they were a hundred miles from the lake in which they had sought refuge
from the fire.

It was a wonderful country of green timber, of wide plains and of many
lakes and streams--cut up by a thousand usayow (low ridges), which made
the best of hunting. Because it was a country of many waters, with live
streams running between the ridges and from lake to lake, it had not
suffered from the drought like the country farther south. For a month
Neewa and Miki hunted in their new paradise, and became fat and happy
again.

It was in September that they came upon a strange thing in the edge of
a swamp. At first Miki thought that it was a cabin; but it was a great
deal smaller than any cabin he had known. It was not much larger than
the cage of saplings in which Le Beau had kept him. But it was made of
heavy logs, and the logs were notched so that nothing could knock them
down. And these logs, instead of lying closely one on the other, had
open spaces six or eight inches wide between them. And there was a
wide-open door. From this strange contraption there came a strong odour
of over-ripened fish. The smell repelled Miki. But it was a powerful
attraction to Neewa, who persisted in remaining near it in spite of all
Miki could do to drag him away. Finally, disgusted at his comrade's bad
taste, Miki sulked off alone to hunt. It was some time after that
before Neewa dared to thrust his head and shoulders through the
opening. The smell of the fish made his little eyes gleam. Cautiously
he stepped inside the queer looking thing of logs. Nothing happened. He
saw the fish, all he could eat, just on the other side of a sapling
against which he must lean to r