Ahmik was to accompany them. A nineteen-foot broad-beamed Peterboro canoe, with good carrying capacity, was selected for the journey. It was of ample size to accommodate the four voyageurs, together with their traveling equipment, provisions for the journey, and the furs which they were taking to market to barter. The canoe was loaded at daybreak, and, Ahmik in the bow, Amesbury in the stern, with Paul and Dan between, they turned down the lake. A light mist lay over the waters, quickly to be dissolved by the rising sun. The weather was perfect, the air heavy with the pungent odor of damp fir trees, the lake placid, beautiful, glorious. Through picturesque lakes, rushing rapids and gently flowing streams the expert canoe-men dexterously guided the frail craft. Now and again portages were made, but the outfit was light and these occasioned small delay. At length Lake Winnipeg was entered. Here they were forced to lose a day or two because of wind and rough water, but for the most part they were favored with pleasant weather. Twice they stopped at trading posts to renew their supplies, but with no other delays at length turned into Red River, and on a beautiful June morning beheld the spires of the city of Winnipeg rising before them. CHAPTER XX WINNIPEG AT LAST “Hurrah! Hurrah!” shouted Paul. “We’re most home now. A hot bath in a real bath tub, and a real bed tonight, Dan! Think of it! A few days and we’ll be home!” “’Tis grand!” exclaimed Dan, “and oh! ’t will be grand t’ get home!” “I’ll wager,” broke in Amesbury, laughing, “that both you fellows will be pulling blankets off your beds and rolling upon the floor before morning, and I’ll wager, too, that you’ll be wishing you could get out to the back yard of the hotel to sleep on the ground.” Ahmik waved his hand toward the town. “Good sell fur; no good to stay. No good place to live. Bush good place to live. We like have you come back to trap.” “You’ve been mighty good to us, Ahmik, and we thank you,” said Paul. They stored their things in a shop whose proprietor Amesbury knew, each carrying a back-load up from the river. “Now,” suggested Amesbury, “we’ll go to the hotel and wash up. What do you say?” “I’d like to telegraph home first,” answered Paul. “All right. Glad you spoke of that. We’ll wire from the hotel.” Ahmik had no interest in the proposed bath or in hotel accommodations, and with promises to see him later, the three turned toward the center of town. “You chaps got any cash?” asked Amesbury. “Dead broke, both of us,” confessed Paul. “Haven’t seen a cent of money since we left the ship.” “I suspected it,” laughed Amesbury. “Well, I happen to have a little. You’ll be rich tonight when you get your share of the fur money.” At the telegraph office in the hotel the three put their heads together, and formulated the following telegram to Paul’s father: