David made up his mind that it must be the
Firepan, and he could feel his pulse quicken as he started up it with
Baree. He must be quite near to Tavish's cabin, if it had not been
destroyed. Even if it had been burned on account of the plague that had
infested it, he would surely discover the charred ruins of it. It was
three o'clock when he started up the creek, and he was--inwardly--much
agitated. He grew more and more positive that he was close to the end of
his adventure. He would soon come upon life--human life. And then? He
tried to dispel the unsteadiness of his emotions, the swiftly growing
discomfort of a great anxiety. The first, of course, would be Tavish's
cabin, or the ruins of it. He had taken it for granted that Tavish's
location would be here, near the confluence of the two streams. A hunter
or prospector would naturally choose such a position.
He travelled slowly, questing both sides of the stream, and listening.
He expected at any moment to hear a sound, a new kind of sound. And he
also scrutinized closely the clean, white bars of sand. There were
footprints in them, of the wild things. Once his heart gave a sudden
jump when he saw a bear track that looked very much like a moccasin
track.
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