Fort Desolation | Page 9

I'll try you," and ranged up beside him, keeping a few yards to one side, however, in order to avoid the appearance of racing. After a few minutes he pushed the pace considerably, and even went ahead of his companion; but, ere long, Jack was alongside and the pace increased to nearly five miles an hour.
Only those who have tried it know, or can fully appreciate, what is meant by adding a mile an hour to one's pace. Most active men go at four miles an hour when walking at a good smart pace. Men never walk at five miles an hour except when in the utmost haste, and then only for a short distance. Anything beyond that requires a run in order to be sustained.
It was curious to watch the progress of these two men. The aim of each was to walk at his greatest possible speed, without allowing the slightest evidence of unwonted exertion to appear on his countenance or in his manner.
They walked on the sands of the shore--there being no roads there--and at first the walking was good, as the tide was out and the sand hard. But before they had got half way to the fishery the sea came in and drove them to the soft sand, which, as nearly every one knows, is terribly fatiguing and difficult to walk in.
Up to this point the two men had kept abreast, going at a tremendous pace, yet conversing quietly and keeping down every appearance of distress; affecting, in fact, to be going at their usual and natural pace! Many a sidelong glance did Rollo cast, however, at his companion, to see if he were likely to give in soon. But Jack was as cool as a cucumber, and wore a remarkably amiable expression of countenance. He even hummed snatches of one or two songs, as though he were only sauntering on the beach. At last he took out his pipe, filled it, and began to smoke, without slackening speed. This filled Rollo with surprise, and for the first time he began to entertain doubts as to the result of the struggle.
As for Jack, he never doubted it for a moment. When they were compelled to take to the heavy sand and sank above the ankles at every step, he changed his tactics. Putting out his pipe, he fell behind a few paces.
"Ha!" thought Rollo, "done up at last; now I'll give it you."
The thought that he was sure of victory infused such spirit into the man that he braced himself to renewed exertion. This was just what Jack wanted. He kept exactly a foot behind Rollo, yet when the other ventured to slacken his pace, (which was now too great to be kept up), he pushed forward just enough to keep him at it, without disheartening him as to result. In the midst of this they both came to a full stop on discovering a box made of birch bark, which seemed to have been dropped by some passing Indians.
"Hallo! what have we here?" cried Jack, stooping down to examine it.
"My blessin' on't whatever it is," thought Rollo, to whom the momentary relief from walking was of the greatest consequence. Jack knew this, and hastened his inspection. It was a box of bear's fat.
"Come, not a bad thing in times like these," observed Jack; "will you carry this or the rifle, my man? See, the rifle is lighter, take that."
Again they stepped out, and the sand seemed to grow softer and deeper as they advanced. They were now five miles from the end of their journey, so Jack began to exert himself. He pushed on at a pace that caused Rollo to pant and blow audibly. For some time Jack pretended not to notice this, but at last he turned round and said--
"You seem to be fatigued, my man, let me carry the rifle."
Rollo did not object, and Jack went forward with the box and rifle more rapidly than before. He was perspiring, indeed, at every pore profusely, but wind and limb were as sound as when he started.
He finally left Rollo out of sight, and arrived at the fishery without him!
Half an hour afterwards Rollo arrived. He was a stout fellow, and by taking a short rest, had recovered sufficiently to come in with some degree of spirit; nevertheless, it was evident to all that he was "used up," for, "it is not the distance but the pace that kills!" He found the fishermen at dinner, buttering their cakes with the bear's grease that had been discovered on the way down. Jack Robinson was sitting in the midst of them, chatting quietly and smoking his pipe beside the fire-place of the hut.
Jack introduced him as one of the new men, but made no reference to