One afternoon, not very long after our arrival at Lake Wichikagan, Lumley and I found ourselves on the summit of a rising ground which was scantily clothed with trees, and from the top of which we could see the region all round like a map spread at our feet.
We were out after a black bear whose footprints had led us to the spot.
“Bruin has escaped us this time, ” said Lumley, “and I don’t feel disposed to go after him any further. You see, Max, I must be up early tomorrow to superintend Coppet at his water mill, so I would advise resting here a bit to refresh ourselves at this spring, and then make tracks for home.”
