CHAPTER V
OSCAR DANSK
HUGH walked very slowly as he made his way up the path, for he was worn out, weary enough to drop by the wayside and sleep there for half a day. He was stiff from kneeling all night in the canoe, his shoulders were lame from the weight of his pack and from the long miles of paddling, his brain whirled from want of sleep. On he trudged, past the groups of overhanging maples, scarlet and gold after the autumn frosts, past a huge mass of red jasper rock with a spring bubbling out at the foot of it, up the hill at last and to the open space where the cottage stood.
It was a little square building of logs, chinked with plaster, with two small sheds behind it and a chimney of rough field stones. Small and rude as the cottage seemed, it had the same air of
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