When camp was nearly made, Job came in triumphantly waving an axe over his head.  He and Joe had taken some of the outfit forward as far as Duncan M’Lean’s tilt, and there had found an axe.  There was great rejoicing over it.  Job said he should carry the axe with the sugar after this.

I had been shooting at an owl that afternoon—­from a distance that made it quite safe for the owl; and while the men prepared supper I cleaned my revolver.  I was greasing it and putting some of the grease into the barrel when George said:  “Don’t put too much grease in it.  If you put too much in the bullet will just slip and—­”

“Might kill something,” I finished for him.

Then came George’s rare laugh.  It is like a baby’s in that it expresses such complete abandon of amusement.

Presently he asked:  “When you were shooting at that bear the other day, where did you aim?”

“Oh, any place,” I replied; “just at the bear.”  Peals of uncontrolled laughter greeted this announcement and cooking operations were, for the time being, suspended.  When they were able to go on with the preparations for supper I could now and then hear them laughing quietly to themselves.

Bed seemed specially good that night, for I was very tired.  How long I had been asleep I could not tell; but some time in the night I was awakened by sounds outside my tent, as of someone or something walking about.  At first I thought it was one of the men; but presently decided it was not, and became very wide awake.  I thought about the bear trail, but did not quite believe it was the bear either.  Presently something shook the branches of the tree my tent was tied to, and they rattled fearfully on the tent close to my head.  I sprang up, and as I reached for my revolver remembered that there were only two cartridges in it.  Quickly filling the empty chambers I waited, ready to give battle to whatever it might be; but the sounds in my tent evidently alarmed the intruder, for there was silence outside after that.  I was a good deal disturbed for a while, but growing calm again I finally went to sleep.  In the morning the men said it was probably a rabbit jumping through the low branches of the spruce tree.

We made a mile and a half that day, and towards evening halted at the edge of a pretty little expansion in the river; it was the most charming camp we had yet found.  There were a number of tiny islands here, some with a few trees, and some just the bare rock with fringes of fresh green marking the fissures.  The water slipped over ledges into pretty pools, and from our camp to the other side there was a distinct downward slope.  My tent was pitched about four feet from the water’s edge above a little fall, and directly over an otter landing.

George warned me, “You will have to keep your boots on to-night.  That otter might come along and get hold of your toes, and drag you into the river.”