“Would a mile or two make much difference?”

“You would have to take the distance off at the other end.  The economy of travel in the North is sternly simple, and transport’s the main difficulty.  You can travel a fixed distance on a fixed quantity of food, and how much you take depends on the skill and number of your packers.  Good men get good wages and money does not go far.  I want to save up as many miles as possible for our prospecting.”

“I see,” said Agatha.  “Yet you stated that you didn’t think we would find the lode!” Then she gave him a shrewd glance.  “Aren’t you a little impatient to get on now?”

“I am,” he admitted, turning to the south.  “There’s a threat of thunder and I’d like to cross the lake before the storm comes.”

Agatha got up and in a few minutes they launched the canoes.  The heat was overwhelming and Agatha felt no movement of the air, but the Metis sweated and panted as they labored at the paddles.  The thud of the blades came back in measured echoes from the motionless pines and a fan-shaped wake trailed far across the glassy lake.  In the meantime, the cloud bank rolled up the sky like a ragged arch and covered the sun.  The glare faded and a thick, blue haze crept out upon the water, until it looked as if the horizon advanced to meet them, but the heat did not get less.  At the edge of the haze, an island loomed indistinctly and by and by Thirlwell turned to Agatha.

“There’s a good beach behind the point and shelter among the rocks,” he said in a breathless voice.  “Would you like to stop?”

“How long should we have to stop?”

He looked up at the moving cloud, which was fringed with ragged streamers.

“I imagine we wouldn’t get off again to-day.”

“Then we’ll go on,” said Agatha.

Thirlwell signed to the Metis, who had slackened their efforts, and the foam swirled up at the bows as they drove the paddles through the water.

CHAPTER XXII

BEFORE THE WIND

Soon after the island melted into the gloom, a flash of lightning leaped from the cloud and spread like a sheet of blue flame across the water.  For a second, Agatha saw black rocks and trees stand out against an overwhelming glare, and then they vanished and she saw nothing at all.  Lightning is common in Canada, but this had a terrifying brilliance unlike any that she had known.  While her dazzled eyes recovered from the shock she was deafened by a crash that rolled among the cloud-banks in tremendous echoes, and before it died away another blaze leaped down.  It was rather a continuous stream of light than a flash, because it did not break off but, beginning overhead, ran far across the lake.  The next enveloped the canoes in an awful light and she felt her hair crackle before the thunder came.

She was too entranced to feel afraid, and glanced at Thirlwell with half-closed eyes.  His face was set and his mouth shut tight, but he was paddling hard and she heard the others’ labored breath as they kept time with him.  The reason for their haste, however, was not plain; the storm was terribly violent, but they would be no safer in the woods than on the lake.  Yet it was obvious that they wanted to reach land.