" But McNeil did not sound convinced. "The sooner we head
downstream, the better. And I hope the boys will have that sub waiting
where they promised. We do possess one thing in our favor--the spring
floods are subsiding."
"And the high water should have plenty of raft material." Ashe lay back
again. "We'll make those five miles tomorrow."
McNeil stirred uneasily and Ross, having cleaned and spitted the hares,
swung them over the flames to broil. "Five miles in this country," the
younger man observed, "is a pretty good day's march"--he did not add as
he wanted to--"for a well man."
"I will make it," Ashe promised, and both listeners knew that as long as
his body would obey him he meant to keep that promise. They also knew
the futility of argument.
Ashe proved to be a prophet to be honored on two counts. They did make
the trek to the river the next day, and there was a wealth of raft
material marking the high-water level of the spring flood. The
migrations McNeil had reported were still in progress, and the three men
hid twice to watch the passing of small family clans.
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