For two months life at Birch Camp much resembled that of a woodchuck or a squirrel. Now and then a day came when the crusted snow permitted a gum-gathering trip into the forest, or a few midday hours at ice-fishing; and never were the first signs of spring more welcome than to those winter-bound prisoners. The wise counsel and patient example of Old Cy had not been lost upon Ray, either; and that winter’s experience had changed him to an almost marvellous degree. He was no longer a moody and selfish boy, thinking only of his own privations, but more of a man, who realized that he had duties and obligations toward others, as well as himself.

With the returning sun and vanishing snow, animal life was once more astir, and a short season of trapping was again entered upon, and mingled with that a few days more of gum-gathering. It was brief and at a disadvantage, for ice still covered the lake, and until that disappeared no use of the canoes could be made.

Once well under way, however, spring returned with speed, the brooks began to overflow, the lake to rise, and one morning, instead of a white expanse of watery ice, it was a blue and rippled lake once more.

And now plans for Ray’s return to Greenvale were in order, and the sole topic of discussion. He was as eager as a boy anxious for the close of school, and for a double reason, which is self-evident.

It was agreed that Old Cy and himself should make the trip out together in two canoes, and convey their stores of gum and firs. At the settlement these were to be packed, to await later sale and shipment. Old Cy would then return to camp, and Ray would go on to Greenvale.

A change in this plan came in an unexpected manner, however, for a few days before the one set for departure, Old Cy, always on watch, saw a canoe enter the lake, and who should appear but Levi, Martin’s old guide.

“I’ve been cookin’ up at a lumber camp on the Moosehorn,” he explained, after greetings had been exchanged, “an’ I thought I would make a trip up here an’ call on ye ’fore I went out.”How welcome he was, and how all, even Amzi, of those winter-bound prisoners vied with each other in making him the guest of honor, need not be asserted. He had been a part of their life here the previous summer, with all its joys and dangers, and now seemed one of them.

When mutual experiences and their winter’s history had been exchanged, of course Chip’s rescue, the half-breed’s escape, and the whereabouts of her father came up for discussion that evening.

“I’ve heard from Tim’s Place two or three times this winter,” said Levi, “an’ neither Pete nor old McGuire has been seen or heard on since early last fall. Pete got thar all safe, but vowed revenge on McGuire, as Martin and I found, when we went out. He stayed round a week or so, I heard later, and then started for his cabin on the Fox Hole, ’n’ since then hain’t never been seen or heard of by nobody. Tim an’ Mike went over to his cabin ’long in the winter, but no signs of him was found, or even of his bein’ thar since snow came. McGuire also seems to hev dropped out o’ business and ain’t been heard on since in the summer. We’ve expected him all winter at the lumber camp, but he didn’t show up.”“We’ve seen him,” put in Old Cy, flashing a smile at Ray, “leastwise I callated ’twas him, though I never let on to that effect. He was trappin’ over beyond a big swamp last fall, ’n’ he paid us a visit, stole a half-dozen o’ our catches ’n’ left his trade-mark on our canoe.” And then Old Cy told the story of their adventure, omitting, however, any reference to the supposed cave.

“It’s curis what has become o’ him,” Levi said, when the tale was told, “and our camp crowd all believe that thar’s been foul play, with Pete at the bottom on’t. Nobody’s shed any tears, though, an’ I’m thinkin’ the woods is well rid o’ him. He’s been a terror to everybody long enough.”

Much more of this backwoods gossip and change of experience filled in the evening, and next morning Old Cy gave Ray a word of caution.

“I kept whist ’bout our findin’ what we callated was a cave,” he said, “an’ I want you to. This matter o’ McGuire and the half-breed ain’t blowed over yit, an’ we don’t want to git mixed up in it. Ez fer the cave, if we ’lowed we found one, the folks at Tim’s Place ’ud go huntin’ fer it, sure, ’n’ I’ve my reasons for not wantin’ they should go. So mum’s the word to Levi ’bout it.”

Levi’s arrival, however, changed their plans, for he at once offered to convoy Ray out of the woods, thus relieving Old Cy, and three days later these two, with well-laden canoes, started on the out-going journey.

It was not without incident, for when the main stream was reached, it was dotted with floating logs and the red-shirted drivers with the bateaux and spike shoes were in evidence. A monster jam was met at the first rapid, the bags of gum nuts, bundles of firs, and canoes had to be carried around it, and when Tim’s Place was reached, a score of the good-natured woodsmen were in possession.

Levi discreetly avoided all questions as to what Tim knew of Chip, her father, or the half-breed. Ray’s lips were also sealed, and so both escaped much questioning. Here, also, they learned what both had guessed–that McGuire and Pete had either left the wilderness or had perished that winter. Where and how, if such was the case, no one seemed to know or care, and a close observer would have said that every one at Tim’s Place hoped that these two outlaws had met their fate.

Old Tomah was also found at Tim’s Place, and he was undeniably glad to see both Ray and Levi, and to learn that Chip was likely to be well cared for.When these two voyagers were ready to start, he joined and kept with them until the settlement was reached. Knowing full well the value of gum and furs, he soon found a purchaser for Ray’s store and stock at its full value; and when that youth, now elated as never before, was ready to start for Greenvale, this fine old Indian showed almost a white man’s emotion.

“Take this to little girl,” he said, handing Ray a package, “and tell her Old Tomah not forget. He hope she come back to see him soon.”

“Tell Mr. Frisbie I shall be here, waitin’ to meet him, when he sends word,” Levi said; and shaking hands with both of his good friends, Ray now bade them good-by with many thanks for all they had done.

Of his homeward trip and all the charming anticipations now his, no mention need be made. They are but the flowers wisely strewn in the pathway of youth, and Ray–now more a man than when he entered the woods–full well deserved all that lay before him.

But Old Tomah’s heart was sad, and far away beside a rippled lake was another who felt the same.