to-night."

Larry and Jack looked at each other. Then with one accord they burst
into laughter.

"Flower seeds! Where did you learn of these seeds, boy?" asked Larry.

"My mother teach me when I'm small. She said only use when pain is
great, or," he hesitated, then, with a sly, half humorous look, "or
when your enemy is great."

"Beats all, doesn't it, Jack?" said Larry. "Foxy, you're a wonder!
Did you do anything else to him?"

"No, just to his canoe," replied the boy. "I wore a hole through the
bottom with rocks; he'll think he did it himself. Takes time mend that
canoe; we be far up river by then--far beyond the forks; he not know
which headwater we take."

Matt Larson laid his hand on the straight, jet-black hair. "Bless you,
my boy!" he said comically, but his undertone held intense relief, which
did not escape Jack's ears.

The fish and coffee were ready now, and all three waded into that
breakfast with fine relish.

Then came the arduous portage around Red Rock Falls, a difficult task
which occupied more than an hour. Then away upstream once more, this
time Jack paddling bow, with young Fox-Foot, lying on a blanket
amidships, wrapped in a well-earned sleep. But once during the entire