Naza! Naza! Naza! 



That d be a recommendation if you needed one. But 

 the way you chucked the Indian overboard got me.&quot; 



Rea soon manifested himself as a man of few 

 words and much action. With the planks Jones 

 had on board he heightened the stern and bow of 

 the boat to keep out the beating waves in the rapids ; 

 he fashioned a steering-gear and a less awkward 

 set of oars, and shifted the cargo so as to make more 

 room in the craft. 



&quot; Buff, we re in for a storm. Set up a tarpaulin 

 an make a fire. We ll pretend to camp to-night. 

 These Indians won t dream we d try to run the river 

 after dark, and we ll slip by under cover.&quot; 



The sun glazed over; clouds moved up from the 

 north ; a cold wind swept the tips of the spruces, and 

 rain commenced to drive in gusts. By the time it 

 was dark not an Indian showed himself. They were 

 housed from the storm. Lights twinkled in the 

 tepees and the big log cabins of the trading company. 

 Jones scouted round till pitchy black night, when a 

 freezing, pouring blast sent him back to the protec 

 tion of the tarpaulin. When he got there he found 

 that Rea had taken it down and awaited him. 

 &quot; Off! &quot; said the free-trader; and with no more noise 

 than a drifting feather the boat swung into the cur 

 rent and glided down till the twinkling fires no longer 

 accentuated the darkness. 



149 



