The Doctor [98]
for M'sieu Boyle."
"Did he go up alone?"
"Oui. He's not want nobody. Non. He's good man on de canoe."
It was an awkward situation. There was a very good chance that he should fall in with his brother somewhere on the trip, and that, at all costs, he was determined to avoid. For a minute or more he sat holding his canoe, calculating time and distances. At length he came to a resolve. He must visit the camp on the Big Horn, and he trusted his own ingenuity to avoid the meeting he dreaded.
"All right, Duprez! bon jour."
"Bo' jou' an' bon voyage. Gare a vous on de Longue Rapide. You mak' de portage hon dat rapide, n'est ce pas?"
"No, sir. No portage for me, Duprez. I'll run her."
"Prenez garde, M'sieu le Docteur," answered Duprez, shrugging his shoulders. "Maudit! Dat's ver' fas' water!"
"Don't worry about me," cried the doctor. "Just watch me take this little riffle."
"Bien!" cried Duprez, as the doctor slipped his canoe into the eddy and, with a smooth, noiseless stroke, sent her up toward the point where the stream broke into a riffle at the head of the rapid which led to the falls below. It may be that the doctor was putting a little extra weight on his paddle or that he did not exercise that unsleeping vigilance which the successful handling of the canoe demands, but whatever the cause, when the swift water struck the canoe, in spite of all his strength and skill, he soon found himself almost in midstream and going down the rapids.
"Mon Dieu!" cried Duprez, dancing in his excitement from one foot to the other. "A droit! a droit! Non! Don' try for go hup! Come out on de heddy!"
The doctor did not hear him, but, realizing the hopelessness of the frontal attack upon the rapid, he steered his canoe toward the eddy and gradually edged her into the quiet water.
"You come ver' close on de fall, mon gar'!" cried Duprez, as the doctor paddled slowly up the edge past him. "You bes' pass on de portage. Not many mans go hup on de rapids comme ca."
"All right, Duprez. I hit her too hard, that's all."
Once more the doctor moved toward the riffle. He had done the thing before and he was not to be beaten now. As the eddy bore him toward the swift water again he carefully gauged the angle of attack, so that when the nose of the canoe entered the riffle, with the trick that all canoemen know, he held her up firm against the water, and, with no very great effort, but by skilful manipulations of the force of the current, he shoved her gradually across the riffle into the slow water near the farther bank, and with a triumphant wave of the paddle disappeared around the bend.
"He's good man," said Duprez to Ben Fallows, who had taken all this time to recover from the shock of Barney's sudden appearance. "But de preechere, he's go hup dat rapide lak one oiseau las' night."
"Did, eh?" answered Ben. "Well, he didn't put in three summers on the Mattawa fer nothin'. He's a bird in the canoe, an' so's his bro--that is--the doctor there. Wonder if he'll catch him!" Ben was much excited.
"Mebbe. He's cache heem comin' down, for sure!"
Meanwhile the doctor paddled on with steady, swinging stroke, taking advantage of every eddy and cross current, stealing along the bank under the overhanging trees, sidling across swift water, lifting his canoe over rocky bits, till near mid-day he found himself at the portage below the Long Rapid.
"Guess I'll camp on the other side," he said, talking aloud after the manner of men who live much alone. He adjusted his paddles on the thwarts, hooked his tea pail to his belt, shouldered his canoe, and, taking his blanket pack in his hand, made the half mile portage without a "set down."
"There," he said, setting his canoe carefully on the grass, "my legs are better than my arms. Now we'll grub." He unpacked his tea pail, cut his bacon into strips preparatory to toasting, built a fire, drew a pail of water, threw in a handful of tea, swung it by a poplar sapling over the fire, and sat down to toast his bacon. In fifteen minutes his
"Did he go up alone?"
"Oui. He's not want nobody. Non. He's good man on de canoe."
It was an awkward situation. There was a very good chance that he should fall in with his brother somewhere on the trip, and that, at all costs, he was determined to avoid. For a minute or more he sat holding his canoe, calculating time and distances. At length he came to a resolve. He must visit the camp on the Big Horn, and he trusted his own ingenuity to avoid the meeting he dreaded.
"All right, Duprez! bon jour."
"Bo' jou' an' bon voyage. Gare a vous on de Longue Rapide. You mak' de portage hon dat rapide, n'est ce pas?"
"No, sir. No portage for me, Duprez. I'll run her."
"Prenez garde, M'sieu le Docteur," answered Duprez, shrugging his shoulders. "Maudit! Dat's ver' fas' water!"
"Don't worry about me," cried the doctor. "Just watch me take this little riffle."
"Bien!" cried Duprez, as the doctor slipped his canoe into the eddy and, with a smooth, noiseless stroke, sent her up toward the point where the stream broke into a riffle at the head of the rapid which led to the falls below. It may be that the doctor was putting a little extra weight on his paddle or that he did not exercise that unsleeping vigilance which the successful handling of the canoe demands, but whatever the cause, when the swift water struck the canoe, in spite of all his strength and skill, he soon found himself almost in midstream and going down the rapids.
"Mon Dieu!" cried Duprez, dancing in his excitement from one foot to the other. "A droit! a droit! Non! Don' try for go hup! Come out on de heddy!"
The doctor did not hear him, but, realizing the hopelessness of the frontal attack upon the rapid, he steered his canoe toward the eddy and gradually edged her into the quiet water.
"You come ver' close on de fall, mon gar'!" cried Duprez, as the doctor paddled slowly up the edge past him. "You bes' pass on de portage. Not many mans go hup on de rapids comme ca."
"All right, Duprez. I hit her too hard, that's all."
Once more the doctor moved toward the riffle. He had done the thing before and he was not to be beaten now. As the eddy bore him toward the swift water again he carefully gauged the angle of attack, so that when the nose of the canoe entered the riffle, with the trick that all canoemen know, he held her up firm against the water, and, with no very great effort, but by skilful manipulations of the force of the current, he shoved her gradually across the riffle into the slow water near the farther bank, and with a triumphant wave of the paddle disappeared around the bend.
"He's good man," said Duprez to Ben Fallows, who had taken all this time to recover from the shock of Barney's sudden appearance. "But de preechere, he's go hup dat rapide lak one oiseau las' night."
"Did, eh?" answered Ben. "Well, he didn't put in three summers on the Mattawa fer nothin'. He's a bird in the canoe, an' so's his bro--that is--the doctor there. Wonder if he'll catch him!" Ben was much excited.
"Mebbe. He's cache heem comin' down, for sure!"
Meanwhile the doctor paddled on with steady, swinging stroke, taking advantage of every eddy and cross current, stealing along the bank under the overhanging trees, sidling across swift water, lifting his canoe over rocky bits, till near mid-day he found himself at the portage below the Long Rapid.
"Guess I'll camp on the other side," he said, talking aloud after the manner of men who live much alone. He adjusted his paddles on the thwarts, hooked his tea pail to his belt, shouldered his canoe, and, taking his blanket pack in his hand, made the half mile portage without a "set down."
"There," he said, setting his canoe carefully on the grass, "my legs are better than my arms. Now we'll grub." He unpacked his tea pail, cut his bacon into strips preparatory to toasting, built a fire, drew a pail of water, threw in a handful of tea, swung it by a poplar sapling over the fire, and sat down to toast his bacon. In fifteen minutes his