“Then go on as far as you can,” she replied.

She had half expected the Metis to grumble, but they did not.  It looked as if Thirlwell had carefully chosen his men, and she found out later that no fatigue she could bear troubled them.  After a time, the wind dropped as they ran round a bend, and getting close to the high bank, they began to pole.  At dusk they ran the canoe aground on a sheltered beach, and Agatha landed, feeling very tired and cold.  When supper was over and they sat by the fire she did not want to talk, and, going to her tent, soon fell asleep.

Next day they poled against the current and paddled, in bright sunshine, across a lake.  At noon they camped among short junipers, and the next morning carried the empty canoes, upside down, across a rocky point.  It cost twelve hours’ labor, relaying the loads, to make the portage, and then they launched upon another lake.  After two more days they left the canoes, covered with fir-branches, on a beach, and pushed inland.  A narrow trail led them across a high divide, seamed by deep gullies, where stunted pines and juniper grew among the rocks, and they portaged the loads by stages, carrying part for an hour or two, and then going back.  Agatha was surprised to see how much a man could carry with the help of properly adjusted straps.

When the divide was crossed they found two canoes by the bank of a small creek, down which they drifted with the swift current.  Then there was a chain of lakes, veiled in mist and rain, and after making a portage they reached a wider stream.  They followed it down through tangled woods and when they camped late one evening, Agatha sat silent by the fire, trying to retrace their journey and speculating about what lay ahead.  For the most part, her memory was blurred, and hazy pictures floated through her mind of lonely camps among the boulders and small pine-trunks, of breathless men dragging the canoes up angry rapids, and carrying heavy loads across slippery rocks.  Their track across the wilderness was marked by little heaps of ashes and white chips scattered about fallen trees.

But some of the memories were sharp; there was the evening she found Thirlwell carrying her belongings a double stage in order that she might have all she needed when they camped.  He panted as he leaned against a tree and his face and hair were wet; she felt moved but angry that he had exhausted himself for her.  She did not want him to think she knew what her comfort cost and was willing to let him buy it at such a price.  She remembered that she had begun to speculate rather often about what he thought.

Then there was the morning they saw a half-covered rock a few yards off in the foam of a furious rapid.  She had tried to brace herself for the shock, expecting next moment to be thrown into the water, but Thirlwell with a sweep of the paddle ran the canoe past.  So far, he had never failed in an emergency, and she felt that she could not have chosen a better guide and companion.  He was resourceful and overcame difficulties; he seemed to know when she would sooner be quiet and when she liked to talk.  They had talked much beside the camp-fires, and although he was not clever, she remembered what he said.