A NIGHT SAIL; 897 



at all. With a laugh at C 's luck and the deer's 



coolness, we pushed across the little lake and landed. 

 Charlie said a riclge, a quarter of a mile wide, sepa- 

 rated this from another pond, and so we shouldered 

 our boats and crossed over. As we were paddling 

 across this, we saw a doe and fawn feeding, at which 

 we sent one random rifle-shot, and then pulled to the 

 farther shore. Another ridge separated this from Fork- 

 ed Lake, over which we must carry our boats. The 

 sun had now gone down, and twilight was beginning to 

 settle on the forest, making the prospect of reaching the 

 solitary hut on Forked Lake that night rather dubious. 

 We had got tired of lugging our big tent over the 

 carrying-places, and so had left it at Big Tupper's, on 

 our return from Mud Lake, to be transported by 

 a settler back to Martin's. We were, therefore, the 

 more anxious to reach this hut; for, to build a camp, 

 tired as we were, at that late hour, would be no slight 

 job. As at every carrying-place we had to make two 

 trips in order to get all our traps over, Charlie proposed 

 that we should leave one boat here — turned over part 

 of our baggage — so that we could cross the intervening 

 riclge at a single trip, and, getting into the two boats, 

 push on for the hunters' cabin. He said two of the 



