But I was in no holiday humor, so only shrugged, and told him to unload
the bales. He smiled again, nodding, and jumped to the shore with
buoyancy that was an affront to our numbed muscles. But once at work
he was as useless as a sailor in a hayfield. He could lift nothing,
and he was hopelessly under foot. I bade him stand aside, and I prayed
for patience. After all he was young, and had been through great
hardship. I would spare him what I could for a time.

It is depressing to work in a cold dawn on an empty stomach. Our
landing had been made at the mouth of a rivulet, and we followed it
till we found a place, some quarter mile inland, that was open enough
for a camp. Here bale by bale we brought the cargo, piling it under
trees and covering it with sailcloth. The canoes we put bottom up in
the open, that the sun might dry them. I left Pierre hidden at the
shore to watch the horizon for our pursuers, and the rest of us
proceeded to breakfast.

It was cheerless. When I say we made a camp it is misleading, for we
could not swing our kettles for fear of the betraying smoke. We sat
down stiffly, for the ground was still wet from the night dew, and we
passed our bags of dried maize and jerked meat from hand to hand. I
made some ado to eat cheerfully, for I saw that the men were surly from
this unnecessary hardship. The western Indians were friendly, and if
we had not had this incubus of an Englishman on our hands we should
have had fire and song, a boiling pot, and roasting maize cakes. There
was no muttering among the men, for I was there, but they looked
glowering, and drew away.

The Englishman ate in silence. I was too ruffled and crossgrained to
talk to him, but I could not keep myself from watching him. His eyes