“You’re lucky to be able to go into the bush,” says Sam, a touch of envy in his voice.

Tom looks at Sam, his eyes gleaming.

“That’s just it, Sam. I wanted to invite you to come with me.”

Sam thinks, caught off guard.

“Come with me, you and the boy. Tonight we’ll sleep at my camp. With the three of us the work will be done in a couple of days — clear the path, cut wood for the stove. As we go we can check the beaver lodges, check for mink, marten, moose.” He looks at me. “Besides, this young city boy needs to stretch his limbs a bit. It will do him good to get back to nature.”

Sam turns to me. He can see that I am dying to go.

He lets the minutes tick by. Then he says, “Okay, we’ll go!”

Now everyone leaps into action. It’s as if we’re going on a big trip.

“Yes,” says Tom happily. “We should get there before dusk. The days are getting longer.”

He swallows his bread and empties his cup of tea in one big gulp.

In a few minutes everything is ready. The sleeping bags, the bannock, the oil, a big piece of smoked trout, the ax, the rifle, the tea kettle.

Pinamen helps me pack my bag. Our hands brush against each other.

“Have a good trip, Nipishish,” she whispers.

I give her a wink. I can see that she’s happy for me.

“I’m going to miss you,” I say. “When I get back, we’ll make up for lost time.”

“Then come back quickly.”

We kneel in the little canoe — Tom at the bow, me at the stern, Sam in the middle. We are loaded up to the gunwales, and I feel the water very close. Fortunately, the breeze is light. Already the dock is disappearing behind us. Tom handles the paddle masterfully and without effort, and his strokes pull us forward. Each of his movements is precise and measured. I try to match his stroke, but before long my legs are itching, my shoulders ache and there are knots in my arm muscles.

I don’t say anything. I just paddle. I fill my lungs. I feel good, and gradually I find the rhythm. I forget about my aches and pains. I let the landscape cast a spell on me, the immense evergreen forests bordering the river. I have time to notice the ducks and swarms of ducklings. We stir up a flock of geese that suddenly take to the sky. A muskrat breaks the water with his black nose.

In my imagination, I am navigating, swept along by the current. I see Pinamen’s smile among the silver flashes of the rippling water. She is everywhere, in my thoughts, my movements, my sight.