Briefly indicated, our way led first through the big
trees and up the hills, then behind a great cliff knob into a creek
valley, through a quarter-mile of bottom-land thicket, then by an open
strip to the first little lake. This we ferried by means of the bark
canoe carried on the shoulders of Tawabinisay.
In the course of the morning we thus passed four lakes. Throughout the
entire distance to Kawagama were the fresh axe-blazes the Indian had
made the day before. These were neither so frequent nor as plainly cut
as a white man's trail, but each represented a pause long enough for
the clip of an axe. In addition the trail had been made passable for a
canoe. That meant the cutting out of overhanging branches wherever they
might catch the bow of the craft. In the thicket a little road had been
cleared, and the brush had been piled on either side. To an
unaccustomed eye it seemed the work of two days at least. Yet
Tawabinisay had picked out his route, cleared and marked it thus,
skirted the shores of the lakes we were able to traverse in the canoe,
and had returned to the River in less time than we consumed in merely
reaching the Lake itself! Truly, as Buckshot said, he must have "run
like a deer."
Tawabinisay has a delightful grin which he displays when pleased or
good-humoured or puzzled or interested or comprehending, just as a dog
sneezes and wrinkles up his nose in like case. He is essentially
kind-hearted. If he likes you and approves of you, he tries to teach
you, to help you, to show you things.
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