Boy Scouts on Hudson Bay | Page 6

busy with your fish lines to-night, Jimmy?"
asked Ned.
"Yes, it's been three mornings now since we had fresh fish for breakfast,
and as that job was handed over to you, we all want to know what's
gone wrong?" Jack added.
Jimmy shrugged his shoulders, and made a wry face.
"I've soured on me job, if that's what you want to know," he replied.
"I've pulled in so many fish since we started that me arm is sore with
the work. Besides, I've lost me taste for fresh fish. Them that feel an
itching for the diet c'n do the business. Here's me lines and hooks with

pleasure."
No one, however, seemed anxious to undertake the task on this
particular occasion. Truth to tell they were one and all pretty tired. It
had been an unusually arduous day, so that shoulders and legs ached
more or less, from packing all their possessions across country to the
bank of the river on which they now found themselves, and which
Francois, yes, and Tamasjo ditto, affirmed would carry them all the rest
of the way to the great inland sea known on the maps as Hudson Bay,
in honor of the famous explorer.
It felt good to lie there at their ease on blankets and enjoy the warmth
of the cheery campfire. There was more or less of a tang in the air most
of the time on account of being so far north; and this became more
evident when the sun had set, and the short night commenced, so that
the young explorers were glad to have tents and warm blankets along.
Once while they were talking Jack lifted his head and appeared to be
listening.
"A wolf pack hunting through the muskegs!" remarked Ned.
"Just what it must be," declared Jack. "And wherever we go it seems as
if there was no end to the hungry beasts. We ran up against them away
out in California, you remember; and they've given us no end of trouble
on this present trip."
"I only hope that swift bunch is hustling along on the trail of Mr. Bull
Moose, and that they overhaul the beggar right soon," grumbled Jimmy
viciously.
"What ails the little rascal now to make him feel so savage about that
moose?" laughed Frank.
"Huh! if you had something you thought the world of carried away on
the horns of a rotten old bull moose, mebbe it's you that would be
feeling sore on him too, me boy," growled Jimmy.

"Well, they say that one man's food is another's poison," observed
Frank; "and all of us feel that your loss is our gain. Red sweaters may
be all very well on a baseball field, but in the woods they don't cut such
a wide swath."
"Forget it," added Jack.
The two guides were looking after the canoes. It was their customary
habit to attend to the craft every night before lying down, because they
realized the great value that lay in the only means of making progress
that the expedition possessed; while no one dreamed of robbery, still,
the motto of a scout is to shut the door before the horse is stolen, and
not afterwards. An ounce of prevention is always much better than a
pound of cure, so Ned was accustomed to saying, and he was an
experienced patrol leader.
While they left some things to the guides, still, the boys were pleased to
keep constantly in touch with whatever was transpiring around them.
Long ago they had learned to enjoy making fresh discoveries in the
field and forest whenever abroad. And in this new and to them
unexplored country they were running across numerous interesting
things every day.
They had just two tents along, and as neither of the guides would
consent to be under cover save in a rain storm, it allowed the five
scouts a chance to sleep comfortably, three in one shelter and a couple
in the other. Ned and Jack occupied the smaller tent, while Jimmy
bunked with Teddy and Frank in the second one.
Presently the guides came into camp again, though they had been
within sight all the time, as the canoes lay well inside the circle of light
coming from the fire.
"All well with the boats, Francois?" asked Ned, who was hugging his
knees now, and had been joking Frank over several weird pictures the
photographer of the expedition had lately developed.
"Everything O. K.," replied the voyageur, as though satisfied with his

labor. "No danger we lose same this night, zat is sure. Still, Francois,
me, and ze ozzer guide we expect to sleep wiz ze one eye open."
"If you should happen to see some stranger meddling with our boats,
Francois--what would you do?" asked Frank.
The voyageur shrugged his