“No, I missed that, Jonas.  I was a little preoccupied at the time.  Is to-day a fair sample of every day, you fellows?”

“Lately, yes,” replied Forrester.  “To-morrow’ll be a bell ringer too, from the looks of that portage.  Need any help on those dishes, Jonas, before I go to bed?”

“All done, thanks,” answered Jonas.  “Say, Mr. Milton, you know what I was thinking?  Mary’s no name for a sassy, gritty boat like ours.  Let me give her a good name.”

“What name, for instance?” demanded Harden.

Jonas cleared his throat.  “I was thinking of the Na-che.”

“My word!” exclaimed Harden.  “Say, Ag, would you want our boat renamed the Na-che?”

“Who’d repaint the name?” asked Agnew carefully.  “That’s the point with me.”

“The trouble with you, Ag,” said Harden, “is that you haven’t any soul.”

“I’d do the painting,” Jonas went on eagerly.  “I was thinking of getting her all fixed up with that can of paint I see to-day.  Red paint, it was.”

“Do you think that Na-che would mind our making free with her name?” Milton’s tone was serious.

“Mind!” cried Jonas.  “Well, if you knew women like I do you’d never ask a question like that!  A woman would rather have a boat or a race horse named after her any time than have a baby named for her.  I know women!”

“In that case, let’s rename the Mary,” said Milton.  “Everybody ready to turn in?”

“I am, sir,” replied Harden.  “Jonas, you turn off the lights and put the cat down cellar.  Good night, everybody!”

Jonas chuckled and hobbled off to his blankets.  It was not seven o’clock when the rude camp was silent and every soul in it in profound slumber.

Enoch was stiff and muscle-sore in the morning but he ate breakfast with a ravenous appetite and with a keen interest in the day’s program.  In response to his questions Milton said: 

“We unload the boats and make the dunnage up into fifty pound loads.  Then we look over the trail.  Sometimes we have merely to get up on our two legs and walk it.  Other times we have to make trail even for ourselves, let alone for the boats.  Sometimes we can portage the freight and lower the boats through the water by tow ropes.  But for this falls, there’s nothing to do but to make trail and drag the boats over it.”

“It’s no trip for babes!” exclaimed Enoch.  “That’s certain!  Do you like the work, Milton?”

“It’s a work no one would do voluntarily without liking it,” replied the young man.  “I like it.  I wouldn’t want to give my life to it, but—­” he paused to look over toward the others busily unloading the Na-che,—­“but nothing will ever do again for me what this experience has.”

“And may I ask what that is?” Enoch’s voice was eager.

Milton searched Enoch’s face carefully, then answered slowly.  “Sometime when we are having a rest, I’ll tell you, if you really want to know.”