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come out this way； they say he goes out by the west side of the
mountains。〃
New light on their course was secured from Warren； and above all；
the important information that the mouth of Jesup's River was
marked by an eagle's nest in a dead pine。 〃Up to that point keep
the main stream； and don't forget next spring I'm buying fur。〃
The drive across Five…mile portage was slow。 It took over two
hours to cover it； but late that day they reached the Schroon。
Here the Dutchman said 〃Good…bye： Coom again some noder time。〃
Skookum saluted the farmer with a final growl； then Rolf and
Quonab were left alone in the wilderness。
It was after sundown； so they set about camping for the night。 A
wise camper always prepares bed and shelter in daylight； if
possible。 While Rolf made a fire and hung the kettle； Quonab
selected a level； dry place between two trees； and covered it
with spruce boughs to make the beds； and last a low tent was made
by putting the lodge cover over a pole between the trees。 The
ends of the covers were held down by loose green logs quickly cut
for the purpose； and now they were safe against weather。
Tea； potatoes； and fried pork； with maple syrup and hard…tack；
made their meal of the time； after which there was a long smoke。
Quonab took a stick of red willow； picked up…in the daytime； and
began shaving it toward one end； leaving the curling shreds still
on the stick。 When these were bunched in a fuzzy mop； he held
them over the fire until they were roasted brown； then； grinding
all up in his palm with some tobacco； and filling his pipe he
soon was enveloped in that odour of woodsy smoke called the
〃Indian smell；〃 by many who do not know whence or how it comes。
Rolf did not smoke。 He had promised his mother that he would not
until he was a man； and something brought her back home now with
overwhehning force； that was the beds they had made of fragrant
balsam boughs。 〃Cho…ko… tung or blister tree〃 as Quonab called
it。 His mother had a little sofa pillow； brought from the North
a 〃northern pine〃 pillow they called it； for it was stuffed
with pine needles of a kind not growing in Connecticut。 Many a
time had Rolf as a baby pushed his little round nose into that
bag to inhale the delicious odour it gave forth； and so it became
the hallowed smell of all that was dear in his babyhood； and it
never lost its potency。 Smell never does。 Oh； mighty aura！ that；
in marching by the nostrils； can reach and move the soul； how
wise the church that makes this power its handmaid； and through
its incense overwhelms all alien thought when the worshipper；
wandering； doubting； comes again to see if it be true； that here
doubt dies。 Oh； queen of memory that is master of the soul！ how
fearful should we be of letting evil thought associated grow with
some recurrent odour that we love。 Happy； indeed； are they that
find some ten times pure and consecrated fragrance； like the
pine； which entering in is master of their moods； and yet through
linking thoughts has all its power； uplifting； full of sweetness
and blessed peace。 So came to Rolf his medicine tree。
The balsam fir was his tree of hallowed memory。 Its odour never
failed； and he slept that night with its influence all about him。
Starting in the morning was no easy matter。 There was so much to
be adjusted that first day。 Packs divided in two； new
combinations to trim the canoe； or to raise such and such a
package above a possible leak。 The heavy things； like axes and
pans； had to be fastened to the canoe or to packages that would
float in case of an upset。 The canoe itself had to be gummed in
one or two places； but they got away after three hours； and began
the voyage down the Schroon。
This was Rolf's first water journey。 He had indeed essayed the
canoe on the Pipestave Pond； but that was a mere ferry。 This was
real travel。 He marvelled at the sensitiveness of the frail
craft； the delicacy of its balance； its quick response to the
paddle； the way it seemed to shrink from the rocks； and the
unpleasantly suggestive bend…up of the ribs when the bottom
grounded upon a log。 It was a new world for him。 Quonab taught
him never to enter the canoe except when she was afloat； never to
rise in her or move along without hold of the gunwale； never to
make a sudden move； and he also learned that it was easier to
paddle when there were six feet of water underneath than when
only six inches。
In an hour they had covered the five miles that brought them to
the Hudson； and here the real labour began； paddling up stream。
Before long they came to a shallow stretch with barely enough
water to float the canoe。 Here they jumped out and waded in the
stream； occasionally lifting a stone to one side； till they
reached the upper stretch of deep water and again went merrily
paddling。 Soon they came to an impassable rapid； and Rolf had his
first taste of a real carry or portage。 Quonab's eye was
watching the bank as soon as the fierce waters appeared； for the
first question was； where shall we land？ and the next； how far do
we carry？ There are no rapids on important rivers in temperate
America that have not been portaged more or less for ages。 No
canoe man portages without considering most carefully when；
where； and how to land。 His selection of the place； then； is the
result of careful study。 He cannot help leaving some mark at the
place； slight though it be； and the next man looks for that mark
to save himself time and trouble。
〃Ugh〃 was the only sound that Rolf heard from his companion； and
the canoe headed for a flat rock in the pool below the rapids。
After landing； they found traces of an old camp fire。 It was
near noon now； so Rolf prepared the meal while Quonab took a
light pack and went on to learn the trail。 It was not well
marked； had not been used for a year or two； evidently； but there
are certain rules that guide one。 The trail keeps near the
water； unless there is some great natural barrier； and it is
usually the easiest way in sight。 Quonab kept one eye on the
river； for navigable water was the main thing； and in about one
hundred yards he was again on the stream's edge； at a good
landing above the rapid。
After the meal was finished and the Indian had smoked； they set
to work。 In a few loads each； the stuff was portaged across； and
the canoe was carried over and moored to the bank。
The cargo replaced； they went on again； but in half an hour after
passing more shoal water； saw another rapid； not steep； but too
shallow to float the canoe； even with both men wading。 Here
Quonab made what the Frenchmen call a demi…charge。 He carried
half the stuff to the bank； then； wading； one at each end； they
hauled the canoe up the portage and reloaded her above。 Another
strip of good going was succeeded by a long stretch of very swift
water that was two or three feet deep and between shores that
were densely grown w