"I left it in the deerhide bag in the canoe." Seaforth's limbs were too stiff to be much use to him yet, and he blundered amidst the boulders, falling over one or two, before he reached the shingle where they had partly drawn out the canoe.

Then he stood still, staring about him, and saw only the green-tinted water sliding by under the uncertain light, and the pines on the other side growing a trifle plainer through the mist.

Turning, he hastened along the shingle until a shelf of rock shut it in, and then back to the tent again.

Alton laid down the axe, for there was something in his comrade's face that troubled him.
"Have you got it ?" he asked.
"No," said Seaforth very quietly.

"You told me the bag was in the canoe." "Of course," said Alton.