half drowned, succeeded in pulling himself ashore. A few minutes
later, when the others came running down, they found him, to their
great relief, sitting on the bank quite safe, wringing the water from
his clothing, and their fear that he was injured was quickly dispelled
by his looking up as they approached and remarking, as though nothing
unusual had occurred,

"Bathin's chilly this time o' year. Let's put on a fire an' boil
th'kettle."

"I don't know as we got a kettle or anythin' else," said Dick,
laughing at Ed's bedraggled appearance and matter-of-fact manner. "We
better go back an' see. I hitched th' trackin' line to a rock, but I
don't know's she's held."

"Well, let's look. I'm a bit damp, an' thinkin' _I_ wants a fire,
whatever."

A cold northwest wind had sprung up in the afternoon and the snow was
drifting unpleasantly and before the boat was reached Ed's wet
garments were frozen stiff as a coat of mail and he was so chilled
through that he could scarcely walk. The line had held and they found
the boat in an eddy below a high big boulder. It was submerged, but
quite safe, with everything, thanks to the careful lashings, in its
place, save a shoulder of bear's meat that had loosened and washed
away.

"I thinks, lads, we'll be makin' camp here. Whilst I puts a fire on
an' boils th' kettle t' warm Ed up, you pitch camp. 'Twill be nigh
sun-down afore Ed gets dried out, an' too late t' go any farther,"