Their calculations led them to suppose that they had gone many miles; yet in all that distance they had found no trace whatever of any human beings. They had not come upon even the rudest trail. This fact impressed them all very forcibly. Hitherto, each one had had a different theory as to the country; and no less than five provinces were claimed, in order to support the theory of each. But they all knew that it would be difficult indeed to find a place in any one of those five provinces, where a march could be made for so great a distance, without encountering some signs of humanity, past, if not present. In all of them the woods had been scoured by lumbering parties, or, at least, by hunting parties; and if there were no paths made by lumbermen, there might be found, at least, some trail. Pat, of course, gave up the Magdalen Islands; Bruce gave up Miramichi: Tom, Prince Edward’s Island; and Bart, Cape Breton. There remained, then, the belief of Phil in Newfoundland, and that of Arthur in Gaspé. Upon these two localities the party divided; and though in the laborious journey back they were too much fatigued to expend their breath in argument, yet, when they did reach their journey’s end, they were all prepared for it. But all argument was postponed for the present by the advent of dinner. It was late when they got back. They had eaten nothing since breakfast. They found Solomon waiting for them most impatiently. He had kindled a fire under a rock, and had taken the trouble to go back to the ship for some pots, kettles, and pans. A pot was even now hanging over the fire, and when they reached the place, there issued from this pot a stream so savory, so aromatic, so odoriferous, and so enticing, that in an instant every other thought vanished from their minds. “O, Solomon,” was the cry, “what is it that you’ve got there?” And they rushed up to the place. But Solomon, brandishing a huge ladle, waved them back with solemn dignity. “You look heah, chilen; don’t you go bodder yer heads bout dis yer; it’s a kine o’ soup dat I ben a concoctin’; an you’ll know when de time comes. Jes now, you’d all bes lie down ober dar, an res yourselves. I ben worritin’ bout you for ten hour an more. You didn’t ought to go for to ’crease de ’ziety ob dis ole man; cos he ain’t able to hole up. But nebber mind; you’re all safe an soun; so now you all jes lay by a few minutes, an I’ll walk dis yer dish off de hook in no time.” The boys respected Solomon’s whim, and fell back. A few dishes, with spoons, were lying on the grass, and towards these they allowed themselves to drift, and then flung their weary frames upon the ground near by. Solomon was true to his word. He did not keep them long waiting. In a short time he took the pot off the fire, and brought it towards them. He then filled each of the dishes in silence.