If I fail, why--kill me!" "That is the North," breathed Jean, and in his voice was the thankfulness of prayer.
Without another word he stooped and picked up the tent and blankets.
Philip was about to stop him, to speak further with him, when he saw Josephine climbing over the bulwark of rocks between them and the trail.

He hurried to meet her.

Her arms were full, and she allowed him to take a part of her load.

With what Jean had brought this was all that was to go in Philip's canoe, and the half-breed remained to help them off.
"You will go straight across the lake," he said to Philip.

"If you paddle slowly, I will catch up with you." Philip seated himself near the stern, facing Josephine, and Jean gave the canoe a shove that sent it skimming like a swallow on the smooth surface of the lake.