On
the morning of their journey, the Dutchman's team and wagon, the
canoe and the men, were aboard the scow, Skookum took his proper
place at the prow, and all was ready for "Goodbye." Rolf found it
a hard word to say. The good old Dutch mother had won his heart,
and the children were like his brothers and sisters.
"Coom again, lad; coom and see us kvick." She kissed him, he
kissed Annette and the three later issues. They boarded the scow
to ply the poles till the deep water was reached, then the oars.
An east wind springing up gave them a chance to profit by a
wagon-cover rigged as a sail, and two hours later the scow was
safely landed at West Side, where was a country store, and the
head of the wagon road to the Schroon River.
As they approached the door, they saw a rough-looking man
slouching against the building, his hands in his pockets, his
blear eyes taking in the new-comers with a look of contemptuous
hostility. As they passed, he spat tobacco juice on the dog and
across the feet of the men.
Old Warren who kept the store was not partial to Indians, but he
was a good friend of Hendrik and very keen to trade for fur, so
the new trappers were well received; and now came the settling of
accounts.
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