For several days this method of travel
continued--tracking it is called. Sometimes the men were forced along
the sides of almost perpendicular banks, often they waded in the water
and frequently met obstacles like projecting cliffs, around which
they passed with the greatest difficulty.
At the Porcupine Rapids everything was lashed securely into the boat,
as a precaution in case of accident, but they overcame the rapid
without mishap, and finally they reached Gull Island Lake, a
broadening of the river in safety, and were able to resume their oars
again. It was a great relief after the long siege of tracking, and Ed
voiced the feelings of all in the remark:
"Pullin' at th' oars is hard when ye has nothin' harder t' do, but
trackin's so much harder, pullin' seems easy alongside un."
"Aye," said Dick, "th' thing a man's doin's always the hardest work un
ever done. 'Tis because ye forgets how hard th' things is that ye've
done afore."
"An' it's just the same in winter. When a frosty spell comes folks
thinks 'tis th' frostiest time they ever knew. If '_twere_, th'
winters, I 'lows'd be gettin' so cold folks couldn't stand un. I
recollects one frosty spell----"
"Now none o' yer yarns, Ed. Th' Lord'll be strikin' ye dead in His
anger _some day_ when ye're tellin' what ain't so.
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