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Just then there was a roar from the tote-road as big Stefan, lashing his dogs, bumped down the path at a wild gallop and, a minute later, threw himself off the sled and was among them. "How do, peoples?" he shouted, advancing truculently towards Pat and Mclntosh. "Papineau telt me as how Hugo he get hurted bad and sick. And he say you peoples ask him whole lot qvestions about him.
They were compelled, therefore, to make the complete journey on foot, following to the lower landing the "tote-road" that Mike Conlin had taken when he came to them on his journey of discovery. They started early one morning about the middle of November, and, as the weather was cold, Turk bore them company. Though Mr.
Ennis should be ill you will find me there." Her proposal was assented to without the slightest objection. The good woman insisted on furnishing her with footwear better suited to the tote-road than the boots she wore. On the trail the snow would be fairly well beaten down and there would be little need of snowshoes if she picked her way carefully. She could not lose her way.
Gideon Ward's well known figure was not among the passengers on the tote-road. The upgoing men were bound for his camps, and were inquiring as to his whereabouts; the downgoing men stated that he was roaring from one log-landing to another, driving men and horses to make a record-breaking season, and so busy that he would not stop long enough to eat.
Striking a bit of flat bare rock, the runners spat out fire and squealed, after which the heavy sled slithered and slipped over the crackling snow, so that presently the outfit disappeared around the first bend in the tote-road. Miss Sophy McGurn looked particularly down-hearted. None of the interesting events she expected had taken place.
"D'ye know, Orcutt offered me ten thousand dollars for my tote-road? An' it cost me a hundred thousand!" A long silence followed McNabb's words, during which Hedin cleared his throat several times. The older man smoked his pipe, and cast covert glances out of the tail of his eye. Finally he spoke. "What's on ye're mind, lad? Speak out."
The animal leaped like a deer, fairly lifting the narrow sleigh, and with tails fluttering from his fur robes, his cap's coon tail streaming behind, away up the tote-road went Gideon Ward on his return to the deep woods, the mighty din of his myriad bells clashing down the forest aisles. At the distant turn of the road he hooted with the vigor of a screech owl, "Better'n law!" and disappeared.
On the crest of a low ridge at the edge of the old chopping where Moncrossen's new Blood River tote-road made a narrow lane in the forest, the Indian paused. In the stump-dotted clearing, indistinct in the sullen dimness of the overcast dawn, rotted the buildings of the abandoned log-camp. From one of these smoke rose.
There was a strong team of horses used to lumbering that could be trusted to manage the old tote-road, drawing Sam Kerrigan's big sleigh. "Hosses used ter do it," asserted the latter, "and they kin do it again." "Maybe Stefan'd take you up with them dogs of his, Kilrea," suggested one of the men, grinning. "No! And by the way, byes. Ye don't want ter let that there Swede know nothin' of this.
As they came out of the store with bulging pack sacks, they saw him step into the stuffy coach, and a moment later they watched the wheezy little engine puff importantly down the track. Then, side by side they stepped onto the tote-road and were swallowed up between the two walls of towering balsams and spruces.
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