I do not suppose Dick believed all this--although it was strictly and
literally true--but his imagination was impressed. He gazed with
respect on the group at the far end of the street, where fifteen or
twenty lumber-jacks were interested in some amusement concealed from
us.
"What do you suppose they are doing?" murmured Dick, awestricken.
"Wrestling, or boxing, or gambling, or jumping," said I.
We approached. Gravely, silently, intensely interested, the
cock-hatted, spikeshod, dangerous men were playing--croquet!
The sight was too much for our nerves. We went away.
The permanent inhabitants of the place we discovered to be friendly to
a degree.
The Indian strain was evident in various dilution through all. Dick's
enthusiasm grew steadily until his artistic instincts became
aggressive, and he flatly announced his intention of staying at least
four days for the purpose of making sketches. We talked the matter
over. Finally it was agreed. Deuce and I were to make a wide circle to
the north and west as far as the Hudson's Bay post of Cloche, while
Dick filled his notebook. That night we slept in beds for the first
time.
That is to say, we slept until about three o'clock. Then we became
vaguely conscious, through a haze of drowse--as one becomes conscious
in the pause of a sleeping-car--of voices outside our doors. Some one
said something about its being hardly much use to go to bed. Another
hoped the sheets were not damp.
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