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FIVE LITTLE STARRS SERIES

_ILLUSTRATED_

Price per volume 35 cents

          FIVE LITTLE STARRS
          FIVE LITTLE STARRS ON A CANAL-BOAT
          FIVE LITTLE STARRS ON A RANCH
          FIVE LITTLE STARRS IN AN ISLAND CABIN
          FIVE LITTLE STARRS IN THE CANADIAN FOREST

(In Preparation)

FIVE LITTLE STARRS ON A MOTOR TOUR

[Illustration: Mike Sat Down on a Log to Watch Over the Children.]





FIVE LITTLE STARRS IN THE CANADIAN FOREST

BY

LILLIAN ELIZABETH ROY

AUTHOR OF THE "BLUE BIRD SERIES"


[Illustration]

          New York
          THE PLATT & NOURSE CO.




Copyright, 1915, by

THE PLATT & PECK CO.




CONTENTS


          CHAPTER                                PAGE

             I A LUMBER CAMP IN PROSPECT            7

            II A LUMBER CAMP IN WINTER             30

           III THE INDIAN TRAPPER                  53

            IV THE ENGINEER'S ASSISTANTS           76

             V JUMPIN' JANE'S ANTICS              100

            VI OUTDOOR FUN IN A LUMBER CAMP       126

           VII CHRISTMAS AT THE LUMBER CAMP       147

          VIII MIKE'S BEAR TRAP                   170

            IX FATHER BEAR VISITS THE CAMP        190

             X AFLOAT ON THE RIVER RAFT           212




FIVE LITTLE STARRS IN A CANADIAN FOREST




CHAPTER I

A LUMBER CAMP IN PROSPECT


"DADDUM, are we'most there?" asked Dorothy Starr, impatiently, as the
uncomfortable local train creaked over its uneven tracks through dense
forests in Western Ontario.

"Almost, Dot--have a little more patience and soon you will be able to
exercise those active little legs," returned Mr. Starr, as he consulted
his watch.

"Guess we'll all be glad to exercise after this awful smoky, crampy
ride," grumbled Donald, Dot's twin brother.

"Our winter in the lumber camp will have to be mighty fine to make us
forget this outlandish trip ever since we left Grand Forks," declared
Meredith Starr, the oldest boy.

"We have one consolation, Mete, and that is, we don't have to travel
home in the Spring by the same route," laughed his sister Lavinia.

"Well, children, you all have had some remark to make about the
discomforts of this car and the dreadful condition of the tracks, but it
is far better than riding in a springless lumber wagon for the same
distance," commented Mrs. Starr, shifting the baby's sleepy head from
her shoulder to her knees.

"We'd never have come if Daddum knew we had to travel _that_ way!"
exclaimed Don.

"No, but Daddum had to travel that way, and on horseback, years ago,
before this track was laid," replied Mrs. Starr.

"Did you, Daddum? Oh, do tell us about it!" cried the restless children,
as they crowded into the seat beside their father.

"It isn't an exciting tale, but it is very appropriate at this time,"
replied Mr. Starr, smiling at the eager faces. "I was a very young man
then. I didn't find out until I returned to New York after that trip
what a prize your mother was."

"Oh, how does Mumzie know about the trip, then?" asked Dot.

"Because I have often told her how that trip decided for me my future
business life," replied Mr. Starr.

"Dot, please don't interrupt Daddum with silly questions again," said
Lavinia to her little sister.

"When I got off the train at Grand Forks, on that trip, I expected to
meet an old friend at the station, but he was not there. I stopped at
the best hotel in the town, which would have been about sixth-rate
anywhere else, and the next morning my friend Dean came in. He had had
to ride about forty miles out of his way on account of a flooded river
and that was why he was not on time to meet me.

"Well, after he had made a few purchases in town he was ready to start
back. I had a good horse waiting for me at the hotel shed, and soon we
were on the return trip.

"The further north we went the more beautiful and wilder the scenery
became until I thought we would be lost in the dense primeval forests.
How Dean managed to find his way I could not make out, but he seemed to
know every stump, every mound, and every blaze on the trees along the
trail.

"We stopped at noon to rest the horses and have a bite to eat. While we
lay under the trees smoking our pipes and waiting for the horses to
finish their oats, an old hunter passed by.

"We invited him to join us but he was anxious to meet an Indian trapper
some miles further on, so we were compelled to decline Dean's
invitation.

"After finishing our pipes, we started on the last half of our journey.

"We hadn't gone more than four miles before we saw in the trail the deep
cut of a wagon-track that struck in from a side-trail that led to an
eastern lumber-town.

"'Huh! Must be pretty heavy pulling for the horses,' said Dean, knowing
that it would take a heavy load to make the wheels sink down so far in
the soft soil.

"'Were they here yesterday, when you came by?' I asked.

"'No, and I should say the outfit wasn't very far ahead, either,'
replied Dean.

"And so it was. In a short time we caught up with a kind of
'prairie-schooner' wagon, and found that a pioneer with his family had
dared the wilderness of the Canadian forest to wrest a living from the
earth.

"Dean rode alongside for a time, giving the man some valuable points
about the country, and advising him as to the best trails. The man
thanked us profusely as we rode on.

"While Dean talked with the man I rode by the side of the wagon and
spoke with the wife who was a very sweet woman of about thirty. She held
a child about two years old in her lap while a boy of five slept upon a
bundle of clothing on the rough wagon-floor.

"Now, this family had come from a town eighty miles east of the trail
where we met them, and they were bound for a distant, fertile valley
about a hundred miles further to the west where they intended to stop
and look about for a permanent home. The woman and children were stiff
and sore from the jolts of the springless wagon as it bumped over huge
rocks, or suddenly slid into wide ruts made by washouts. But they never
complained about aching bones, for they knew the father couldn't help
them, and they were trying to keep up his spirits.

"Dean and I continued along the trail until we came to the flooded
region that made him miss my coming the day before. The river seemed
higher than ever, Dean said, and we had to try the roundabout way again.
We traveled along the banks for at least thirty miles, but not a spot
could be found where we could ford, or even swim our horses.

"Finally, we pulled rein to discuss the problem, when Dean saw a thin
wreath of smoke rising among the trees near at hand. As no forester ever
permits the sight of smoke to go uninvestigated for fear of forest
fires, he jumped off of his horse and rushed into the woods. After a
short time he returned with our friend the hunter and an Indian.

"'The men say we can't get over to-day--we'll have to wait about until
the water recedes somewhat,' Dean explained.

"'Can't we cross where you did last night?' I asked.

"'Not to-day--the water has risen much higher since then and it would be
taking too much of a chance to risk it. We'll stay here until it is
safe,' said Dean, as he led his horse into the woods toward the
Indian's temporary camp.

"I followed the three men and wondered how the Indian ever got the name