fast as we can."




CHAPTER III.

LIFE IN A BARK HUT.


It was two o'clock in the morning when the tired, draggled pair stumbled
ashore at the place where they embarked, hauled up their birch skiff,
leaving it to repose, bottom uppermost, under a screen of bushes, and
then stood for some minutes in deliberation.

"I'm sure I hope we can find the trail all right," said Cyrus. "Yes, I
see the blazes on the trees. Here's luck!"

He had been turning the jack-lamp on either side of him, trying to
discover the "blazes," or notches cut in some of the trunks, which
marked the "blazed trail"--in other words, the spotted line through the
otherwise trackless forest, which would lead him whither he wanted to
go.

It required considerable experience and unending watchfulness to follow
these "blazes"; but young Garst seemed to have the instinct of a true
woodsman, and went ahead unfalteringly, if vigilantly, while Neal
followed closely in his tracks.

After rather a lengthy trudge, they reached a point where the ground