and inlets. His boat had been wrecked in this channel: one could see its bleaching bones still wedged among the rocks, and he himself had perished at the hands of hostile Indians. Although the Indians had now nearly vanished and civilization had, since then, been creeping steadily nearer, the upper reaches of Red Lake were still as wild, unexplored and perilous as in his day. But—thus Hugh registered a vow within himself—they would soon be so no longer.
A long day’s tramp brought him fair sport, several partridges, two quail, but no sight of larger game. Hugh was a good shot and did not often fail to bring down his quarry.
“I wish I could get a deer,” he thought, but knew that for that he must go out at night.
The air was so still and the woods so silent that it seemed he must be the only person within a hundred miles. There was a sleepy swaying of the branches above his head and a quiet rustle of the leaves under his feet, otherwise there was scarcely a sound. Surely in this peaceful region there could be no such thing as quarreling and
