He'll think a fly flew down his throat, and cough. Then you could
run." George's eyes were dancing with amusement at his own
pictures. Presently he went on: "I think--oh! you keep a rifle in
there though, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Don't you think you could handle salt a little better than a
rifle?"
This was insulting; but I was laughing too heartily to be properly
indignant, and he continued: "You might put a little salt on his
tail. Maybe you could put that otter out of business, too, if you
had enough salt."
A duck flew past, dropping into the water a little way above our
camp, and George sprang for a rifle. He shot, but missed, which I
assured him was only proper punishment for the slighting
insinuations he had made in regard to my shooting. Job, and Joe
went fishing after supper but got nothing. It was a fine evening
with a glorious sunset, beautiful evening sky, and a splendid moon.
George said: "Fine day and fine breeze to-morrow."
My sleep was not disturbed that night by either bear or otter, and
we were up and started on our way the next morning at 7.30. A
rough portage of three-quarters of a mile was completed some time
before noon, and beyond this the canoes were kept in the water most
of the day.
Pages:
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103