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The darkness swallowed them before the group on the veranda had caught its breath. In a moment the voices about the cannon raised in greeting. A swift play of question and answer shot back and forth. "Out all the year?" "Where? Kabinikágam? Oh, yes, east of Brunswick Lake." "Good trip?" "That's right." "Glad of it." Then the clamour rose, many beseeching, one refusing. The year was done.
It now became necessary to leave the water-way, and to strike directly through the forest, over the hills, and into the country of the Kabinikágam. Dick shouldered a thirty-pound pack and the canoe. Sam Bolton and the girl managed the remainder. Every twenty minutes or so they would rest, sinking back against the trunks of trees, mossy stones, or a bank of new ferns.
"There, son Sewell!" cried the honest mint-master, resuming his seat in Grandfather's chair, "take these shillings for my daughter's portion. Use her kindly, and thank Heaven for her. It is not every wife that's worth her weight in silver!" Do you know any other stories written in this vein? For the space of nearly ten weeks these people travelled thus in the region of the Kabinikagam.
If that failed, then there was nothing to do but to retrace the long, weary journey up the Kabinikágam, past the rapids where Dick had hurt himself, over the portage, down the Mattawishgina, across the Missinaíbie, on which they had started their travels, to the country of the Nipissing. Discussing this possibility one rest-time, Dick said: "We'd be right back where we started.
In the country of the Kabinikágam they visited thus many hunting districts. The travel neither hastened nor lagged. From time to time it was necessary to kill, and then the meat must be cared for. Berries and wild rice were to be gathered. July drew near its end. Sam Bolton, knowing now the men with whom he had to deal, found no difficulty in the exercise of his simple diplomacy.
Dick here broke his leg and was laid up for near three months. I looked all that district over while he was getting well. Then we made winter travel down through the Kabinikágam country and looked her over. We got track of this Jingoss over near the hills, but he got wind of us and skipped when we was almost on top of him. We took his trail.
He had firmly convinced one man of a common body, wherein news travels quickly, of his apparent intentions; he had, furthermore, an exact knowledge of where to find each and every district head-man of the whole Kabinikágam country. Whether or not the man he sought would prove to be one of these head-men, or the guest or lessee of one of them, was a question only to be answered by direct search.
Logically in a section where the tribal rights were rigidly held to, this would be impossible except through friendship or purchase; while in a more loosely organized community a stranger might readily insinuate himself. "Good keeping of district," replied the Indian. "I keep head-waters of Kabinikágam down to Sand River. When I find man trapping on my ground, I shoot him. Fur last all right."
Nor could they treat themselves in the weary succession of days to an occasional visit with human beings. During the course of their journey they investigated in turn three of the four trapping districts of the Kabinikágam. But Sam's judgment advised that they should not show themselves to the trappers.
As for the cramps, they took care of themselves. The day's journey was necessarily shortened until he had partly recovered, but even after the worst was over, a long tramp always brought a slight recurrence. For the space of nearly ten weeks these people travelled thus in the region of the Kabinikágam.
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