When all but the camp stuff
had been taken forward, we had breakfast, and by 7 A.M. we were in
the canoes.
Our course led us south through two little lakes, with a portage
between, for something more than two miles. Here the second lake
bent away to the southeast, and we landed on our right at the foot
of a low moss-covered ridge. Beyond this we hoped to see the
river. As we climbed, new heights appeared before us, and it
proved to be about three-quarters of a mile to the top, from which
the ridge dropped abruptly on the west, and at its foot was a long,
narrow lake. At first I thought it was the river, but, when it
became clear that it was not, my heart sank a little. Had we been
wrong after all? Had the river bent away to the north instead of
the south as we supposed?
Job and Gilbert outstripped us in the climb, and now we saw them
disappearing across a valley on our left in the direction of a high
hill farther south, and we followed them. As before, new heights
kept appearing as we went up, and when the real summit came in view
we could see Job and Gilbert sitting on its smooth and rounded top
looking away westward. How I wondered what they had found.
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