The green woods interested Gilbert, who was looking for new
trapping grounds for himself and Donald Blake. We had come more
than fifty miles from Seal Lake, the limit of his present trapping
grounds, and he quite seriously considered the question of
extending his path up to those hills the following winter.
Turning to George, I said: "Why shouldn't I come up here after
dinner with my kodaks, and take some pictures while you men are
making the portage? The walking is not rough, and I couldn't
possibly lose my way if I tried."
He looked quite serious about it for a moment, and then said:
"Well, I guess you might."
Slipping down the south end of the hill a little way to see that
there were no rough places where I should be in danger of falling
going down, he returned, and with the manner of one who is making a
great concession said again: "I guess you can come up here this
afternoon. You could go down this way and meet us at this end of
the lake. You will be able to see when we come along in the
canoes."
I was delighted, and after a half hour on the hill-top we started
back directly towards the canoes. It was very hot among the lower
and more sheltered sand-hills, and for a long time there was no
running water to be found; but when we did come upon a tiny stream
crossing the way, hats were quickly turned into drinking-cups for
one long, satisfying drink.
