296 CANADIAN NIGHTS 



The air was soft and warm, redolent of resinous 

 pines and clean wet earth. There was no doubt 

 about the thaw. Going down to the water's edge 

 I found a rise of several feet, a strong current 

 rushing out, and the thin ice all breaking away. 

 So I roused up Noel, made up our packs, brewed 

 some strong tea, said good-bye to the newcomers, 

 who seemed disinclined to exchange shelter for 

 torrential rain, and plunged into the dawn to 

 launch our dug-out and pole up against the stream. 

 Willie Whisper came down with us to the water's 

 edge. " God be with you," he said, as he wrung 

 my hand, " surely we shall meet again sometime, 

 somewhere. Perhaps in the flesh — I don't know. 

 I think not, but who can tell ? So long ! " 



I never did meet him again, though after some 

 years I did once again taste the freedom of my 

 well-beloved woods. I heard that he had died 

 as he had lived, in the deep woods, alone among 

 the trees. 



