His selection of the place, then, is the
result of careful study. He cannot help leaving some mark at the
place, slight though it be, and the next man looks for that mark
to save himself time and trouble.
"Ugh" was the only sound that Rolf heard from his companion, and
the canoe headed for a flat rock in the pool below the rapids.
After landing, they found traces of an old camp fire. It was
near noon now, so Rolf prepared the meal while Quonab took a
light pack and went on to learn the trail. It was not well
marked; had not been used for a year or two, evidently, but there
are certain rules that guide one. The trail keeps near the
water, unless there is some great natural barrier, and it is
usually the easiest way in sight. Quonab kept one eye on the
river, for navigable water was the main thing, and in about one
hundred yards he was again on the stream's edge, at a good
landing above the rapid.
After the meal was finished and the Indian had smoked, they set
to work. In a few loads each, the stuff was portaged across, and
the canoe was carried over and moored to the bank.
The cargo replaced, they went on again, but in half an hour after
passing more shoal water, saw another rapid, not steep, but too
shallow to float the canoe, even with both men wading.
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