Before proceeding to do so Harold raised one end of the canoe and
placed it on the trunk of the tree; then, having previously taken off
his shoes, he swung himself on to the trunk; hauling up the light
bark canoe and taking especial pains that it did not grate upon the
trunk, he placed it on his head and followed Nelly along the tree. He
found, as he had expected, that the ground upon which the upper end
lay was firm and dry. He stepped down with great care, and was
pleased to see, as he walked forward, that no trace of a footmark was
left.

"Be careful, Nelly," he exclaimed when he joined her, "not to tread
on a stick or disturb a fallen leaf with your feet, and above all to
avoid breaking the smallest twig as you pass. Choose the most open
ground, as that is the hardest."

In about a hundred yards they came upon a large clump of bushes.

"Now, Nelly, raise those lower boughs as gently and as carefully as
you can. I will push the canoe under. I don't think the sharpest
Indian will be able to take up our track now."

Very carefully the canoe was stowed away, and when the boughs were
allowed to fall in their natural position it was completely hidden
from sight to every passer-by. Harold took up the fish, Nelly had
filled her apron with the berries, and carrying their shoes--for they
agreed that it would be safer not to put them on--they started on
their journey through the deep forest.