The Long Portage
"You called me an honest man; you have my word--I'll see the right done."
Quietly as it was spoken, Lisle recognized that it was no light thing his companion promised him. In the Dominion, caste stands by caste, and Lisle, having seen and studied other Englishmen of his friend's description, knew that the feeling was stronger in the older country. To expose a man of one's own circle to the contempt and condemnation of outsiders is, in any walk of life, a strangely repugnant thing.
"Well," he said, "to-morrow we'll pull out and portage across the divide to strike the Gladwynes' trail. And now I'll fry the trout and we'll have supper."
They let the subject drop by tacit agreement during the meal, and soon after it was over a shout from the crest of the ridge above, followed by a smashing of underbrush, announced that their packer was making for the camp. Lisle answered, and a cry came down:
"Got a deer, and there are duck on the lake ahead! We'll try for some as we go up!"