any stamps, and the walking, I'm told, isn't good. I prefer to skate."
"Katy says we might drag our luggage on sleds, as they do in the arctic regions; but supposing the ice should break up, or we should come to a big crack?"
"I have read," Kate remarks again, "that they carry boats on their sledges, and pack their goods in the boats, so that they will float if the ice gives way."
"Take my boat!" screamed Jim, eagerly.
"That would call for a big sled."
"Well, didn't you two fellows build a pair of bobs last winter big enough to carry that boat?"
"Doubtful," answered Aleck. But when they brought out the plan of the boat, and then measured the bobs, which were stored in the woodshed, they found them plenty wide, and Tug was sure they were sufficiently strong.
Kate looked at them rather dubiously, and said she had never read of arctic boats mounted on heavy bobs, but that they always seemed in the pictures to have long, light runners under them; but Jim reminded her curtly that "girls didn't know everything," so she kept still, and the planning and talking went on.
Young people who are under no necessity to ask permission of older persons, and, besides, are pushed by circumstances, decide quickly on a plan which looks forward to adventure. Generally, I fear, they come to grief, and learn some good lessons rather expensively; but sometimes their energy and fearlessness carry them safely through what the caution of old age would have stopped short of trying to perform.
They sat up pretty late discussing the plan, but before Tug went to what he said he "s'posed he must call home," they had determined to try it if the weather held firm.
This was on Friday. They hoped to get away early in the coming week. Then all three went to bed, Jim jubilant, and looking forward to a long frolic; Kate half doubtful whether it was best, but hopeful; Aleck sure that, for himself, he didn't care, hating to put his sister and brother to any risk, yet seeing no better way of resisting poverty; Tug resolute, and bound to stand by his friends, whatever happened. So they slept, and bright and early next morning the quiet preparations began, Tug declining to answer any questions as to how he arranged the matter of his going with his aunt.
Chapter III.
Fitting Out the "Red Erik"
The first thing was to settle upon their preparations.
"What will you want to take, Tug?"
"Precious little, I guess. Besides my clothing, which won't make much of a bundle, I don't own much except my shot-gun, and my weasel-trap, and my odds-and-ends chest, and some hooks and lines. I'm going to sell all the rest of my duds."
"Who'll buy 'em?" asked Jim, doubtfully.
"Never you mind who, infant. 'This stock must be closed out below cost,' as the old-clo' men say. I can put all my baggage in a nail-keg."
"Then that's fixed," Aleck remarked. "Now for you, Katy?"
"I think the little trunk that was mamma's, and my handbag for brush and comb and such things, will hold all that belongs to me—that is, of my own own," she replied, laughing. "Of course, the cooking things, and so on, belong to all of us."
"Well, Jim, your traps and mine will go into the other little chest, I think—at any rate, they must. Now for the general list."
The general outfit was then talked over for more than an hour, when, looking at his watch, Aleck said:
"Now this plan all depends on what luck I have in renting the house. I heard yesterday that Mr. Porter (the owner of the burned factory) would have to leave the hotel, and wanted to find a small furnished house. I am going to see if I can't let ours to him."
So Aleck went off, and Tug and Jim started down to examine the boat, study how much she would hold, and see what would be the best way of mounting her upon the bobs, which they spoke of as "the sledge." They were not back until afternoon, and found that Aleck had just come in, full of success. Mr. Porter would rent the house, and would allow them a closet in which to store all the small goods they wished to leave behind.
"Now, what about the boat?" he asked, as he concluded the story.
"She'll do beautifully. Jim and I think we'd better deck her over from the mast forward, and cover it with painted canvas, so as to make a water-tight place to stow the provisions."
"That's a good idea."
"We thought you'd say so, and so we took exact measurements, and can make a deck here, and fasten it on down there."
"All right; now, how do you think we'd better fasten the boat to the sledge?"
"That's where we want you to help us decide. I don't believe its weight is great enough to hold it firm."
"It's the first thing to be arranged," said Aleck, "and after dinner I guess we'll have to go down to the wharf."
An hour later the three boys were standing beside the boat, gazing first at it and then at the pair of strong bobs they had brought along.
"We must take that coasting-board off the bobs and put in a heavy reach-pole pretty near as long as the boat, that's certain," said Tug.
"And," spoke up Jimmy, "we've got to prop her up on the sledge so she'll stand even, and won't tip."
"Yes, you're both right," Aleck agreed. "The best way is to saw chairs out of two-inch plank which will just fit her bottom, and in which she will sit solidly."
"But," Tug broke in, "that won't hold her firm in the racket she has to go through. She must be bound down to that sledge, and I reckon the best way is to draw bands of stout canvas—big straps would cost too much—over the boat, from one side of the sledge to the other."
They examined and re-examined, but could none of them see any better plan; so they measured, and on their way home bought enough of the heaviest duck to make three bands, each three inches wide.
This transaction brought out a bit of Tug's loyalty. As Aleck took out his purse to pay for the canvas, Tug pushed his hand away and laid a dollar bill on the counter.
"You can just put up your cash," he cried. "This is my affair. If you fellows furnish the boat and sledge and all the rest, I'm going to pay, myself, for what new stuff we have to buy. It's little enough I can do, anyhow."
With this view there was no use of arguing, and Tug had his way that day and during all the rest of the preparation, spending the whole of his savings and the money received from the sale of his books and "contraptions."
While Tug sawed out the chairs, and screwed and spiked them firmly to the sledge that evening, the other two boys worked at the bands, and Katy sewed. They all sat in the kitchen, in order to be where Tug could work, and before they went to bed both tasks were nearly done.
The next day was Sunday.
On Monday the sledge was finished, and the boat was set upon it. Tacking tightly over it the canvas bands, two in front and one towards the stern, the whole affair proved almost as stiff and firm as though formed of one piece.
"What was the boat's name?" you may feel like interrupting me to ask.
It had not been christened yet, but when, as they sat by the fire on Sunday evening, Katy read aloud the story of "Red Erik," they all agreed that that was the name they wanted.
Now the Red Erik was fitted to carry one mast, which passed through a hole in the forward thwart, and was stepped into a block underneath. The sail carried by this mast was a square sail of pretty good size, supported by a gaff at the top and a boom at the bottom. When it was not in use it was rolled around the mast, the gaff