Long before evening came around Lub had time to recover from his excessive labors of the day, so that he was in good trim to start supper.
“It wasn’t so much the strain of fishing, and attending to half a dozen tip-ups that knocked me out, as that warm little dance the bear led me, you see, fellows,” he explained, when some one chanced to remark that he got up on his feet as though his knee-joints were stiff and rusty.
“Yes,” said Ethan, drily, “this thing of luring is always hard on the muscles and nerves. Only the most rugged constitutions can stand it.”
Lub grinned, but did not pursue the subject any further. He was soon busily engaged in cooking the fish which had been cleaned and prepared long before.
Luckily they had two good-sized frying-pans with them; for that was one of the occasions where they came in handy. Nothing would do but they must have some bear steak, though Phil warned them they were apt to find it rather tough. Still, who would have the heart to complain about a little thing like that, when the game had fallen to their own rifles, after Lub had gotten in his fine work; certainly none of the Mountain Boys, who had gone through too many episodes along these lines not to accept things as they came, with a laugh and a good word.
That was a bounteous feast, and one to be long remembered. The fish tasted as sweet as shad, and had the same sort of “pitchfork” bones in them too, which must be watched for, and jealousy guarded against. If the bear steak was hard to masticate, at the same time it was a camp dinner, not one served on a damask tablecloth, with cut-glass, and silver, and napkins to boot!
“Well, it’s coming along at last, fellows!” announced X-Ray Tyson, about the time they had finished their meal.
“What’s that you’re referring to?” demanded Ethan; while Lub looked hastily on all sides of him, just as though he half expected to see the mate of his bear standing there on the border of the camp, and sniffing at the odor of cooked meat that still hung around the scene.
“Why, don’t you see ’em trailing down?” demanded X-Ray, who seemed to be quite jubilant over something or other.
“He means it’s commenced to snow!” said Ethan.
“Just what,” the other added, “and if it gets a good move on perhaps to-morrow will see me gliding along on my snow-shoes that I’ve owned nearly a year now, and never had a decent chance to use.”
He made a dive over to where the said articles were hanging, and taking them down proceeded to try them on. The others had seen X-Ray do this so often that it was no novel sight to them.
Phil, who had had considerable experience with snow-shoes, had shown the other some little “wrinkles” in connection with fixing the clumsy contraptions to his feet, so that X-Ray was quite proficient, so far as that part of it went.
He seemed to fancy that there would be no trouble at all about spinning along over the country, once he “got the hang of things.”
“I’m bound to pull off some stunts while we’re up here,” he remarked, as he sat and looked at his prized possessions, now fastened with the straps to the toes of his shoes, leaving the heels free; “and I only hope the snow gets knee-deep by morning. I’ve read about how hunters up here in Canada chase the moose when a crust forms on the deep snow, and I want to try it for myself.”
“That is reckoned the best time for hunting,” Phil explained; “though it doesn’t seem hardly fair to the caribou or the moose. You see, with their weight and their sharp hoofs they break through the crust at every jump, and flounder more or less in the drifts; while the hunter on his broad snow-shoes glides swiftly along, and can easily overtake the strongest of them.”
“How about those moose yards I’ve read about?” asked Ethan, who though a descendant of a New England family knew much less about big-game hunting than did Phil.
“Oh! they are found in New Brunswick, and parts of Canada as well,” the other explained. “When the snow gets very deep, so that the moose find it hard to move around in the woods, they make their way to some place previously selected, where they can feed on the tender shoots of certain trees. There they stay, trampling the snow down constantly, until the place looks like an enclosure surrounded by walls of snow.”
“Then that’s how it came to be called a moose yard, I suppose?” ventured Lub, who was listening to all of this talk, even though he did not profess to be very fond of hunting.
“Yes,” Phil continued; “and there are some hunters so low down in the scale as real sportsmen that if they ran upon one of these yards they would take advantage of the opportunity to slaughter every one of the moose in it, no matter if they numbered ten or a dozen.”
“But good gracious! isn’t there a law limiting the number of moose any one person can shoot in a year?” asked Lub.
“Of course there is, and it’s generally a single specimen, because moose are getting more and more scarce every season,” said Phil; “but what does the game law signify to these hogs? So long as they can feel pretty sure of not being found out there’s nothing too mean for them to do.”
“What a shame they can’t all be arrested, and sent up for a term of years,” Lub remarked, indignantly.
“And don’t think for a minute,” Ethan broke in with, “that it’s the guides who do things like that. They know better than to kill the goose that lays the golden egg for them. On the contrary, as a rule it is some reckless so-called sportsman who allows his primal passion to have full play when he finds himself up against such a golden opportunity. And I suppose he even makes his boasts of what great feats he performed when he finds himself back home with other fellows about the same build as himself.”
The snow was by this time falling heavily. If it kept up at that rate, by morning it would certainly be measured by a dozen inches. X-Ray was so tickled he could hardly think of taking his snow-shoes off, but sat there a long time admiring the bent wood and stretched gut contrivances which men have used for so many years as a means for getting over the drifts of these cold countries.
“Looks like you meant to sit up all night, admiring yourself, X-Ray!” suggested Ethan finally, with a little touch of sarcasm in his voice.
“Better put a chain on him, and make sure he doesn’t scoot out in the night!” Lub sang out.
“That word scoot makes me think of the motorboat we had down there on old Currituck Sound a while back,” chuckled X-Ray, not at all bothered it seemed by these remarks on the part of his chums; “you remember it was called the Skoot, though for that matter it belied its name, for it never could go fast.”
Soon afterward, however, X-Ray relieved Lub’s anxious mind by removing the snow-shoes, and saying as he did so:
“Guess I can wait till to-morrow for my run; and, Phil, remember, you gave me your solemn promise to keep me company the first chance that came along?”
“We’ll see,” was all Phil would admit.
“Lucky we got our bully little shack all done before this started in, eh, boys?” remarked Ethan.
“It held off for us, which was a mighty fine thing for the weather to do,” Lub told them, as he changed around in order to get his back warm, for he was now thinking of turning in.
They had arranged it so that the shack could be closed against the weather in time of stress. Phil made sure they had an abundance of fuel handy, for he said they would need it right along. The fire was to be kept up through the night; for a certain amount of heat might be expected to enter the lean-to through the opening where the canvas apron was drawn aside.
The fresh meat was hung from a limb, and high enough from the ground to prevent any wandering wolf from jumping up and carrying it off. Lub had been very solicitous about that part of the program, instructing the others to make sure by actual tests that it was a sufficient distance from the ground.
“Bear meat is too hard to get,” he said, with considerable pride, “to want to feed it to the sneaking wolves.”
Of course the others indulged in another pantomime laugh, as though they quite enjoyed hearing the peace-loving Lub talk in that strain. It did them no harm, and seemed to afford Lub more or less pleasure, so none of them attempted to shatter his dream of conquest by rude remarks.
Although X-Ray Tyson was the one most interested in the snowfall he never aroused himself enough at any time during the night to crawl out and take an observation as to the state of the weather.
Phil and Ethan looked after the fire; though on several occasions when one of them reentered the shack after performing this duty a sleepy voice would inquire after the weather conditions, and on hearing that the snow was still falling heavily X-Ray would grunt his usual phrase:
“That’s hunky-dory; let her come!”
With the arrival of morning there could no longer be any doubt that winter had set in for good. A foot of snow on the level, with many drifts that were several times that deep, told how busy the old man plucking geese aloft had been while the Mountain Boys slept.
X-Ray was wild with delight.
“At last my day has come around!” he kept repeating over and over; “the day I’ve been waiting for so long. When shall we make a start, Phil?”
“Certainly not till after we’ve had a good hot breakfast, for one thing,” asserted the other; “and if it keeps on falling like it does now nothing would tempt me to start out for a snow-shoe tramp.”
“But it looks to me like the clouds were ready to break over there in the northwest,” urged the eager one.
“Let her break, then,” Phil told him; “time enough to talk about going when we see the sun peeping out. I understand it’s no soft snap to get twisted up in this same Canadian bush, with a blizzard blowing the snow down, and the cold getting away below zero point.”
“Whoo! excuse me if you please,” spoke up Lub; “I’ll take mine out alongside this cheery blaze. Somebody has got to eat the drumsticks, my mother always says; and even in camp there must be a cook.”
“And a jolly good one we happen to have along with us!” remarked X-Ray, generously.
“No taffy, please,” warned Lub. “I may take a notion to strike, one of these days, and then the rest of you would have to throw up heads or tails to see who takes my place.”
“We hope that day will be a long way off,” declared the wily Ethan, “because the chances are we’d have to come to eating that erbswurst just as it is, because no one could do justice to the culinary department after being spoiled the way we have.”
Of course Lub was not so green as to think they meant all they said; yet at the same time it must have been pleasant for him to know his valiant efforts over the fire were appreciated by his chums. He worked harder than ever, and the satisfied smile that spread over his rosy face told that his thoughts were happy.
After all X-Ray was right about those clouds, although he did not claim to be a weather prophet, as he had once done. Even as they sat there and made away with the fine breakfast that had been prepared a bright ray of sunlight fell aslant the party; and looking out they could see that the snow had a dazzling appearance.
“Bully for that!” cried X-Ray; “if I didn’t have my breakfast in my lap I’d feel like jumping up and dancing a hornpipe for joy. That means we’ll soon be starting forth on our snow-shoes, eh, Phil?”
“I suppose you’ll never give me a minute’s peace until I do go out with you,” the other declared, with a laugh; “though it’s pretty hard work paddling around on snow-shoes when there isn’t a trace of crust on top of the fall to hold you up. You see, every step you have to drag a shoe after you, and when the stuff is soft it means real work.”
“Well, you never were known to go back on your word, rain or shine,” said the other, in a satisfied sort of way, as though he did not mean to let it worry him in the least.
Half an hour later they were getting in readiness for the start.
“We’ll carry our guns of course,” said Phil, “for we might run across a caribou, and just now a little venison in camp wouldn’t come in bad. And make sure to take plenty of ammunition along, for while we may not need it you never can tell. Likewise some matches besides your usual supply. I’ll put up a snack for our lunch; and besides we can carry some of that pemmican from the six pound can. Nothing to equal it as a life-saver in a pinch.”
“Whew! to hear you talk,” said the astonished Lub, “one would think you really expected to get lost, and roam through the bush for days before you struck our own camp again; but of course you don’t, Phil?”
“If I did think so I’d hesitate about going out,” the other told him. “In doing what I am, Lub, I’m only taking out an insurance policy. No man expects a fire is really going to come and eat up his house; it’s the last thing he looks for; and yet all the same he wants his mind to be at ease. If it should hit him he is in a condition to rebuild again. Well, chances are ten to one we’ll bring this condensed food back with us; but in case we do need it we’ll be mighty glad we have it along. And that’s the right kind of policy to follow when you’re off in the bush; for it is often the unexpected that happens.”
Presently they had looked after every minute detail that could be thought of; and as X-Ray was very impatient to be off Phil did not have the heart to delay any longer.
“Here we go to hit the snow-shoe trail!” sang out the exultant X-Ray; and then he found it necessary to go through some violent contortions of the body in order to keep himself from tripping over his own feet, encumbered as they were with such unaccustomed appendages.
Phil had given him a staff, however, which he was expected to use in case of any need; and this prevented him from falling.
A minute later, and waving good-by to the others the two started forth.
“I’m getting to do first-rate at it, don’t you think, Phil?” asked X-Ray, after they had been moving along for an hour and more.
“Yes, you seem to have mastered the trick all right,” he was told, “though you did take a few headers when you grew too confident. Snow-shoes can only be successfully mastered through experience. They are clumsy things to a novice, and apt to play all sorts of sly tricks on him. I’ve seen a chap with both feet sticking up out of a drift; and unable to get out alone.”
“Yes, I’d think they would act about the same as a life preserver fastened down around a fellow’s knees. The very thing you are depending on to save you turns out your worst enemy when you treat it the wrong way. Now watch me make a little speed, Phil.”
“Take care. Pride goes before a fall, they say. There, that’s the time you did manage to tumble in good earnest.”
“Help me up, that’s a good fellow, Phil. I guess I’ll feel my way after this. You may think you have mastered snow-shoes, but as you say they can spring a trick on you unawares. Your feet get twisted, and of course down you flop. But I’m satisfied with as far as I’ve gotten. The next thing is to learn to slide over a crust like the wind, climbing rises, and spinning down the other side like you were on skis. Say, it must be great sport; I hope it melts a little soon, and then freezes on top.”
“Probably it will, now that you have expressed a wish that way,” chuckled Phil, who was really having more or less fun observing the actions of the new beginner.
A short time later and Phil uttered an exclamation.
“What have you struck now?” asked X-Ray, eagerly.
Phil pointed to the snow close by.
“Some animal has gone along here, sure enough!” said X-Ray, bending over to examine the marks more closely. “A moose most likely, eh, Phil?”
“No, it was a caribou,” the other assured him.
“A horse of another color, then; but it means game, all the same, Phil?”
“Yes, caribou are classed in that list, and make pretty good eating, too,” the other explained.
“Of course we might take a little turn after the old chap, just to give me my first snow-shoe hunt; say yes, Phil.”
“There’s no reason that I can see why we shouldn’t, though we don’t want to get too far away from camp, because it’s heavy work dragging a pair of shoes after you, once you begin to feel tired.”
“We can stop whenever you think it’s best,” promised X-Ray.
Accordingly they began to follow the trail. It was so easy any novice could have done it; and yet there was a certain thrilling sensation about the whole matter that gave the new beginner much pleasure.
He had so often pictured himself in some such scene as this that the reality afforded him more genuine delight than words could describe.
Phil allowed him to take the lead, thinking that would satisfy X-Ray; who while not so fond of hunting as Ethan, at the same time was able to enjoy it to a certain extent.
With the trees all heavily laden with snow, some of the birches and pines bent almost double under the burden, it was a beautiful scene by which the two boys found themselves surrounded. Phil admired everything as he went along. X-Ray seemed to be thinking only of the chance they might have to come up with the caribou, and wondering if they would have the good luck to bring it down in case they did sight it.
He had never seen a caribou in his life, though he knew they were a species of deer inhabiting the barrens of New Brunswick and Canada, where they are often run across in herds of hundreds.
The snow was deep enough to give considerable trouble to the animal they were following, though it seemed that he kept persistently on. He was possibly heading for a certain rendezvous where he knew he would find others of his kind assembled, to pass the severe weather in company, as a protection against roving wolves that would soon bring a straggler down, yet dare not attack a herd.
X-Ray was more or less excited. Every little while he would in a whisper ask his companion what he thought about it, and if they were drawing up on the caribou.
“Seems to me the trail is getting a heap fresher,” X-Ray suggested; though truth to tell that was put forward as a “feeler” to draw out an opinion from Phil, and not because he knew much about the tracks.
“Yes, it is getting fresher all the time,” admitted Phil; “which shows that we are making much better time than the caribou. But it remains to be seen whether he can put on a burst of speed when he sights us that will leave us far in the lurch. He may be taking it easy along here.”
“And what if he does flicker away and out of sight before we can drop him, Phil; do we keep up the good work, or drop out?”
“If he once gets going good and hard,” Phil declared, “we might as well say good-day to him, and head back toward the camp.”
“The camp! Well, if you asked me now, I couldn’t tell you which way we’d have to go to get there; but of course you know, Phil? You always were a great hand to keep tabs of things.”
“Yes, I’ve been watching our course all the while,” Phil told him, confidently.
“And whereabouts would you say the camp lay from here, then?” asked X-Ray.
Without the slightest hesitation Phil pointed straight into the southeast.
“If you started off and kept a bee-line that way I believe you’d come within pistol-shot of our shack,” he affirmed. “When you struck the shore of the lake it would be easy to locate the camp by the smoke rising, if not from other landmarks that every wise hunter would have jotted down in his memory.”
X-Ray did not continue the low conversation immediately; he was trying to remember if there was any such landmark that he might have noticed close to the camp, and on the ice-bound shore of the lake.
“Oh! yes, there was the odd-shaped tree that looked like an old man on his knees and saying his prayers!” he broke out with, a look of satisfaction crossing his face at being able to recollect; “that was near by, and I think I would know it from across the lake if I happened to strike in there.”
“I’m glad you remembered,” said Phil; “but suppose we stop whispering now.”
“Oh, my, do you expect we’re as close to him as all that, Phil?” demanded X-Ray, beginning to finger at the lock of his gun, in order to make sure it was in readiness for quick use in an emergency.
“He passed along here just a bit ago, for a fact,” Phil told him.
They continued to push on, with that trail always before them, though sometimes they turned aside on account of the barrier presented by a growth of bushes, through which the caribou had gone.
Phil had now come up alongside his companion, and noticing this X-Ray believed things must be quickly getting to a stage when something was liable to happen. He was expecting to see the caribou ahead of them at some little distance, and paid but small attention to points close at hand.
When without the least warning there was a sudden rattling sound heard, and a large brown animal was seen departing with great leaps, X-Ray gave utterance to a gasp of disappointment.
Even as the two young hunters threw their guns to their shoulders the fleeting caribou suddenly shifted its course, and turning abruptly to the right, sped on. It now presented a splendid mark, and the two shots rang out almost as one.
A remarkable thing happened just then. With the crash of their rifles the animal was seen to leap high in the air, just as deer often will when stricken in full flight. And to the astonishment of the boys another report sounded from the other side of the caribou!
“He’s down, Phil!” shrilled X-Ray, trembling with the excitement.
“Yes, come on!” replied the other, immediately starting forward as fast as he could go on his snow-shoes.
“But, Phil, wasn’t that another shot we heard?” expostulated X-Ray Tyson, as he did his level best to keep close to the heels of his chum.
“Yes, it was a gunshot,” snapped Phil, who seemed to be laboring under some sort of emotion, though X-Ray could not say what its character might be.
They could see where the caribou had struck when he fell. His antlered head was resting on the snow, showing that he had fallen with that last leap, with his legs under him.
Phil saw a figure advancing from the opposite quarter, and also on snow-shoes. He was pleased to note there was only one, for he anticipated that there was likely to be trouble of some sort around that locality before long.
“There the other hunter comes, Phil!” said X-Ray, wanting to be sure that his chum was made aware of the important fact.
“All right, but we’re going to get up before he does,” was all Phil replied.
The first thing he did on reaching the spot where the stricken caribou lay was to bend down and closely examine the right side. As said before the animal lay just as it had fallen, so that both haunches were in plain view, did any one take the trouble to step around.
Phil was gratified with what he saw in that hasty survey; but nevertheless he immediately leaned over to ascertain the condition of the animal’s left side. By that time X-Ray had come up, and the stranger sportsman was also close at hand.
Up to that moment Phil had not taken the pains to give the other a look; but as he had found out all he wanted concerning the state of affairs in connection with the game, he now turned his attention on the advancing man.
He was a rather stout and exceedingly peppery looking individual, who was rather out of breath, and puffing from his exertions. His florid face did not impress Phil favorably at all; it seemed to sense the bully, and the overbearing man of millions, accustomed to lording it over others.
There was no question at all in Phil’s mind but that this man was a member of the other party he had been told was in camp in that vicinity. He might have even thought him to be a beef-eating Englishman only that his information had been to the effect that they were all Americans from below the border.
“I don’t like his looks!” muttered X-Ray.
“No more do I,” added Phil, under his breath, for the stranger sportsman was getting close up by then, and might hear if words were spoken in an ordinary tone. “But the game is ours without a question, and we’re going to have what we want to carry off, make up your mind to that.”
“Bully!” muttered X-Ray, who was inclined to be pugnacious on occasion; and at any rate never disposed to allow himself to be “used as a door mat, for some other person to wipe his feet on,” as he used to put it.
Perhaps Phil meant something when he calmly placed his foot on the fallen game. It was a significant move, at any rate, and could hardly be mistaken. It struck X-Ray as peculiarly defiant, and he felt like chuckling as he watched to see what that red-faced individual did when he arrived on the scene of action.
If anything his face took on a deeper tint until it looked almost purple. When he saw that he had only two boys to contend with the other hunter must have believed he could frighten them with his looks, for he scowled like a pirate.
Somehow neither of the Mountain Boys drew back and began to apologize for daring to rob him of any of the free air. And no sooner had he arrived than the domineering tactics, with which perhaps he had pushed himself through business so as to accumulate his million, began to make themselves manifest.
“Here, what are you doing with your foot on my caribou, I’d like to know?” was what he jerked out, being still short of breath.
“Excuse me, sir, but you’ll have to explain what you mean,” said Phil, coolly. “I am not aware of taking any such liberties with your caribou. If it happens that you are referring to this animal here, you’ve made a big mistake, that’s all. It is our game; we saw it first, shot it first, and got here first. So you’ll have to go to court and put in a claim. Possession in this case is nine points of the law!”
The man stared at the speaker. He evidently had seldom been spoken to in that manner before, certainly never by a mere boy. And yet something in Phil’s face must have impressed him as worth observing. He saw that those eyes were fastened on him with a steady and keen look that did not falter under his scowl, or his muttering.
“I tell you it is my caribou, for I shot it,” he proceeded to affirm, embellishing his assertion with certain strong words which he doubtless expected might make the boys hesitate before they went any further and incurred his ill-will. “I was just creeping up within easy gunshot when you came along and scared the beast. I claim it as my prize.”
“And we have been trailing the same caribou for at least two hours,” said X-Ray under the impression that since he was a party to the dispute he should at least be allowed to get a few words in.
“The matter is easily settled,” said Phil, quietly.
“I am glad to see that you mean to act sensibly; for since you came up after I had started to stalk the caribou it put you in the wrong,” the other said, as if rather relieved in his mind at the turn affairs had taken.
“Don’t mistake me, sir,” continued Phil; “what I meant was that we can easily prove which has the right to the game. There’s a way to settle that question that neither of us can rightly deny. If you look over here at this side of the caribou, which was the side toward us, you remember, you will find that two bullets entered his body, one directly in the region of his heart. That shot killed the animal instantly. He could only make one jump, and then collapsed as you see him.”
“Humph!” grunted the stout red-faced sportsman, with one of his ugly frowns; “and I suppose then you’ll make out that I missed him entirely?”
“I’m not making out anything, sir, for you can see from the red mark just where your lead cut a little section from his hind leg. I’m sure I heard it sing past me and hardly ten feet away. That hurt would never have crippled a strong beast like a young bull caribou. You would never have had the least chance to lay claim to any of the meat if you had depended on your shot. But we’re not greedy, sir; and if you care to forget this little unpleasantness we’ll gladly call it our combined trophy of the chase, and divide the meat with you!”
It was a generous offer, and did the boy credit; but apparently the quarrelsome sportsman with the purple face felt himself insulted by being patronized by a couple of boys, for he ground his teeth together, and looked daggers at Phil.
“I mean to have all, or none!” and as he said these words the red-faced hunter glowered at Phil as though he felt like eating him, X-Ray afterwards declared.
“Suit yourself, sir,” remarked the boy, coolly drawing out his hunting knife.
The man looked a little startled; perhaps he thought Phil intended to attack him.
“Be careful what you mean to do, boy!” he stammered, some of the color leaving his fade; but he saw that X-Ray stood there with his gun under his arm, and finger playing with the lock, so he dared not try to elevate his own weapon in order to threaten Phil.
“I expect to cut this caribou up,” said Phil, firmly. “Half of it is as much as we care to tote back to our camp with us. I shall leave the balance here. You can take it or leave it, as you choose, sir. It matters nothing to us.”
He turned and said something in so low a tone to X-Ray that the sportsman could not catch its import. Since the other boy immediately drew back the hammer of his repeating rifle, and swung the weapon slightly around until it was pointing directly at the man he could easily guess what Phil had told his chum.
“Perhaps you do not know who I am,” blustered the owner of the red face.
“Well, you haven’t taken the trouble to introduce yourself yet, I believe, sir,” Phil told him.
“My name is James Bodman, and I am interested in American railways!”
It was amusing to see the way the stout party drew himself up proudly as he said this. Of course Phil knew instantly that he was face to face with one of the best known millionaire railroad owners in the whole United States; and he also remembered reading that the same James Bodman was noted as a domineering financial despot.
Phil did not flinch. He gave no sign of being greatly impressed by the importance of the other’s position in the world of finance. Instead he merely flirted his hand around to indicate his chum, and remarked with the greatest indifference possible:
“Oh! is that so? Well, let me introduce my friend, Raymond Tyson, Mr. Bodman. As for myself I’m Phil Bradley.”
That was all Phil said.
He immediately started work on the fallen caribou, with an air of business that could not brook delay. There were some miles of snowy bush to be traversed before he and his comrade could expect to reach their camp, and he did not wish to be detained any more than was absolutely necessary.
Meanwhile X-Ray was having considerable fun in watching the expressions that chased each other across the florid countenance of the stout hunter. Mr. Bodman apparently found himself taken aback by the indifferent manner in which the news of his identity was received. He had possibly expected the boys to be dazed, and perhaps hasten to beg his august pardon.
“Huh! you’ll be sorry for this, let me tell you!” he finally burst out with.
“So?” Phil simply said, as he continued with deft strokes to hack away at the part of the dead caribou’s carcass he meant to carry off with him.
Unable to stay there and be defied so boldly, the sportsman turned his back on his tormentors. He looked as though he might be close on having a fit of some kind the last they saw of him.
Once he turned and shook his fist in their direction. X-Ray half raised his gun, as though to let him understand two could play at that game if he dreamed of firing at them; but apparently Mr. Bodman had no intention of risking a shot, for he moved away clumsily on his snow-shoes, with which he was no adept, it appeared.
X-Ray chuckled as though tremendously amused.
“Just hear him growling like a bear with a sore head, will you, Phil? My stars! but he does hate a fellow who has the gall to sass him to his face. I guess he’s so swelled up with a sense of his importance, that he expects everybody to fall to trembling when he says so high and mighty like: ‘I am James Bodman, huh!’”
“I feel that I did the right thing, X-Ray,” said Phil, working away industriously.
“You were more than generous to offer him half, when he didn’t deserve a pound of this meat,” said the other, scornfully. “What if he did draw blood, that wound wouldn’t have feazed the caribou even a little bit. But it seems that Mr. Bodman’s policy has been rule or ruin all his life, and he can’t get away from it. In plain language I’d call him the Great American Hog.”
“I’d hate to have any dealings with that sort of a man,” Phil continued. “He’s the kind that always wants the best, and others can take the leavings.”
“That’s how he got his millions, I reckon,” X-Ray suggested. “Seems that there’s a glut in the market of hard cases up here in this Canadian bush while we’re on our little hunt, what with this bully, and that other one to boot.”
“Meaning Anson Baylay, the poacher, and all-round terror of the backwoods, eh, X-Ray?”
“Say, I’d give something to see those two run up against each other, and have it out. The free show would beat the old one you hear about, when
“‘There once were two cats in Kilkenny,
And each thought there was one cat too many.
So they quarreled and fit; and they gouged and they bit,
Till save the tips of their nails and the ends of their tails,
There was naught left of the two cats of Kilkenny.’”
“It looks to me as if this Mr. Bodman might be a bad hater,” mused Phil; “and all I hope is he doesn’t get a chance to give us trouble while we’re up here.”
“Why, how could he do that, Phil; the woods are free to every one; and I’m sure we paid for our hunting licenses as he did, if he is worth his millions. In what way could he injure us?”
“Mind, I don’t say he will try to do anything,” urged Phil. “Fact is, I hope on second thought the man may come to the conclusion he made a fool of himself. Perhaps he’ll hide until we go away, and then return to get his share of the meat. He may even keep it secret that he met his match in two American boys. That would end the matter, so far as we are concerned.”
“I suppose he’s got a pretty hard crowd over with him in his camp; that lumber-jack gave us to understand as much. They might take a notion to make it unpleasant for us up here, so we’d want to clear out. But they’d better go slow. The Mountain Boys can stand up for their rights.”
“Let’s forget all about the unpleasant experience, and talk of other things,” was Phil’s wise suggestion.
Later on, when he had secured all the meat they would care to carry, at least a fair half of the carcass remained untouched.
“If he cares to come back and cut it up he’s welcome,” said Phil, as they prepared to leave the scene of the killing; “if not, I warrant you there will be only clean-picked bones here by to-morrow morning.”
“Yes, with so many hungry wolves hanging around,” added X-Ray; “if they’re all like that one we bagged at our camp they could clean up a mess like this in half a jiffy.”
Nothing occurred on the way home, and in good time the two weary snow-shoe trampers came in sight of the lake and the camp.
When it was learned that they had been successful in their search for a caribou the other two expressed considerable delight; Lub because it would be a new kind of food for them to experiment on, and Ethan regarding the exploit with the interest of a born hunter.
“And, Phil?” the latter immediately broke out with, “to-morrow I hope you’ll take another little trip with me. I kind of think I know where we can get a moose; and you’ve been saying you want to shoot one in the snow forest with your camera.”
“How is that?” demanded Phil, naturally interested at once.
“Why, I took a little turn around this afternoon, just to exercise my pins, and practice with my show-shoes, because I’m not as clever at it as you. And I just had a glimpse of a big moose scooting off through the brush.”
“Did you fire at the beast?” asked Phil; “because if you wounded him the chances are he’d keep on going as long as he could move his hoofs, and we’d never get a sight of him again.”
“Why, no, I hope I’m too good a sportsman to shoot recklessly when there isn’t one chance in a hundred of my bringing the game down,” said Ethan a little indignantly. “I want to be fairly sure when I throw lead; I don’t believe in giving any animal unnecessary pain.”
“Excuse me, Ethan, I ought to have known you better than to ask that. And if the day is anyway decent I’ll promise to take a wide turn with you.”
“Thank you, Phil, for saying that; and I hope on my part we get close enough up for you to snap off the old bull moose before we drop him.”
“Did you see that it was a bull?” asked the other, curiously.
“Well, no, I didn’t for a fact,” replied Ethan; “I just caught sight of the big beast; then the brush closed behind him, and left me staring, with my gun half way up to my shoulder. But it was a good-sized one, let me tell you, even making allowances for any little excitement on my part.”
The caribou had chanced to be a young one, which Phil considered fortunate indeed. Lub did his very best at cooking the steaks cut from the joint, but for all that none of the boys seemed to be wildly pleased with the meat. The fact probably was they had too many good things along with them; had their larder been empty, and their stomachs craving food, that meal would have been a real hunters’ feast without a doubt.
“I think we’re doing remarkably well, so far,” Lub was saying, after they were through with supper, and sat around in lazy attitudes, enjoying the sparkle and glow of the comfortable fire; “what with getting a real savage wolf, a walking bear, and now a caribou, the last a species of deer which none of us have ever seen before.”
“Yes, all we need now to complete the string of big game to be found up here is a moose, together with a lynx that has tassels on its ears,” laughed Ethan; “and to-morrow may bring that list down to the cat tribe, if Phil and myself have any luck on our tramp.”
“I’m wondering how I can set my usual flashlight trap up here of nights, so as to get a few pictures of Canadian wild animals in their native haunts,” Phil remarked. “If any of you happen to glimpse the tracks of a fox, or a mink, or any sort of little beast, be sure and let me know. I want to follow the trail up and learn where he has his haunt, so I can lay for him.”
“How about the beaver houses Mr. McNab told us we might find up that stream, unless some sportsmen or fur-gatherers have cleaned the colony out?” Ethan asked.
“I was thinking of that,” replied Phil, “and there may be a chance for us to hit that same stream on our way to-morrow. So I think I’ll carry my camera along, and be ready.”
“I’ve seen their houses behind a dam they’d made,” remarked Ethan; “but it was in the early fall. A place like that must look picturesque when the snow is everywhere around.”
“I hope we can find the colony pond, and that the hard working beaver haven’t been cleaned out,” Phil continued; after which the conversation drifted into other channels, though Ethan would not be apt to forget when the morrow came, for he was always a great hand to recollect things.
The night had closed in as cold as ever, and it was easy to be seen that winter was getting a good firm grip up here in the far northern wilderness of Canada, and in the famous Saguenay River region.
With all the comforts they had at hand the boys did not dream of complaining; in fact they were thoroughly enjoying every minute of their stay. Even X-Ray, who a year back had been rather inclined to seem sickly, was showing a remarkable improvement in his physique, partly due no doubt to these days and nights, spent in the open air, when on excursions with his three chums.
Long they sat there before the cheery camp fire, laughing, singing some of their school songs, telling stories, and having the time of their lives, as Lub declared.
The stout chum insisted on having the skin of “his” bear close to him most of the time, and he was very fond of running his hand down the long shaggy hair in a caressing way. He hoped he would be able to impress those fellows at home in Brewster with the wonderful value of being smart enough to lure a bear within gunshot of his comrades. And surely none of them would be so mean as to sneer at his claim to the quarry on that score.
At any rate trials so far in the future could not give happy-go-lucky Lub any harassing care. He was in fine spirits on this particular night, and kept the others in roars of laughter with his comical sayings, and his songs.
Later on they sought their blankets. The program of the previous night was duplicated, and the fire kept burning through the long hours when darkness held sway over the primeval wilderness.
Morning showed no important change in the weather conditions, for which Ethan at least was glad. X-Ray grumbled a little, because he had hoped a short thaw might set in, so they could have a glaze of thin ice on top of that deep blanket of snow, for he wanted now to try his hand at gliding swiftly over the levels, climbing ascents after a fashion, and spinning down the slopes beyond like the wind.
Ethan was ready soon after breakfast, and Phil did not detain him long, waiting only to make sure that as on the previous day they carried such things along with them as would come in handy in case they found themselves detained longer than they figured on.
Lub and X-Ray gave them a parting cheer.
“Make it moose for supper to-night, fellows!” called the latter.
“Variety is the spice of life, you know!” Lub told them; “and since I’ve got my hand in so well at cooking, nothing scares me these days. Why, I’d as soon try a steak of elephant meat, a piece of a giraffe, or perhaps a monkey roast. So-long, boys, and good-luck to you all!”
“Here’s about where I stood when I heard something rushing off, and looked just in time to get a peek at the moose.”
As he said this Ethan pointed down to where the marks of his snow-shoes could be plainly seen.
“Now lead me to where you saw the moose, which I take it must have been over there in that direction,” remarked Phil.
“As sure as you live,” declared the other; “and I guess you knew that from the way my tracks set, eh, Phil?”
“Just what I did look at the first thing,” confessed the other.
Presently they were bending over the trail in the deep snow which showed where the alarmed moose had gone plunging off.
“It’s a moose, all right,” Phil admitted, without much delay.
“Can you tell if it was a bull?” asked the other.
“Well, not from the tracks. Did you happen to notice any horns on the beast?” was what Phil inquired.
“I can’t just say I did; but then it all happened so quick I couldn’t be dead sure either way. It’s a good-sized critter anyway, I think, Phil.”
“Yes, no doubt about that, Ethan. But let’s get started on the trail.”
That pleased Ethan, for he was full of eagerness. The love for hunting ran full and strong in his veins. Phil used to be built in the same way, but since discovering the peculiar fascination of hunting with a flashlight camera he seemed to be losing much of his former liking for killing game. He would much rather spend his time playing his skill and brains against the natural caution of the wearers of fur, in endeavoring to photograph them in their native haunts.
For a while they continued to move along. Sometimes they could make pretty good speed, where the going was easy; and then again it became necessary to push through thickets where the branches were so thick as to hold them up.
“Have you any idea yet whether it’s a bull or a cow?” asked Ethan, after they must have been going fully two hours.
“Not absolutely,” returned Phil; “but I’ve got an idea we’re going to find it the latter.”
“Tell me what you base your judgment on, please, Phil.”
“I may be all wrong at that,” replied the other, who never set himself up as infallible. “There have been a few places where the chase led us through thick woods, with the lower limbs of the trees hanging down under their snow burden just so far. If the moose had big horns, which would be the case in a bull, no matter how far back on his shoulders he laid them they would be apt to break some of the twigs loose above, and we’d have seen them lying on the snow.”
“Then I take it from what you say there were none of these signs, eh, Phil?”
“Not that I could see, and I looked carefully, not once but several times. I’m afraid, Ethan, your moose is going to turn out a big cow after all.”
“And we promised ourselves we wouldn’t shoot a cow moose even if we had to go without such big game, didn’t we, Phil?”
“That’s where I have the bulge on you, Ethan,” laughed the other.
“As how?” demanded the eager hunter; “you sure subscribed to that rule with the rest of us, Phil.”
“Yes, but only so far as my gun went,” he was told; “I can shoot that cow with my camera, and never injure a hair of her hide, you see.”
At that Ethan shrugged his shoulders, and made a grimace.
“Yes, that’s a fact, you have got the jump on us, Phil. But I suppose, then, we can keep on the move, and take our chance of catching up with the cow, so as to let you get in a snap-shot of the same?”
“We’ll keep going up, to a certain limit,” figured Phil; “I wouldn’t care to tramp beyond that. We’d want to be able to make the home camp by night, you know.”
“As for that,” said Ethan, indifferently, “what should we worry about even if we had to stay out a night? Fact is, I’d rather enjoy the experience in your company. So don’t count me in when you’re figuring things, Phil. I c’n take pot-luck any old time.”
As on the previous day Phil could readily tell that they were gaining on the animal they followed. He had shown Ethan where the moose spent the previous night and it seemed as though the animal could not have been very greatly alarmed by seeing the young hunter, for it had not gone more than two miles after that before stopping to browse upon some tender branches of a certain tree, and stop until another day dawned.
The trail did not always keep on in a direct line, but there was more or less of a zigzag movement about it. From this Phil drew the conclusion that the moose must be scouring the bush in hopes of meeting up with others of its kind, so as to keep company with them for the balance of the long winter.
It began to get along toward high noon.
Ethan felt hungry, since they had been on the tramp a long while now. Still he did not dream of stopping to build a fire, and waste time with such foolishness, thus losing most of the advantage they had gained.
“We can chew at something as we keep right along, eh, Phil?” he remarked, after mentioning the subject of lunch.
“Yes, unless we come up with our game before the sun is at the zenith,” the other replied. “Of course, after we’ve met the moose we needn’t be in such a hurry, and an hour’s rest would make both of us feel a heap better for the return journey.”
Apparently Ethan was quite content to let it go at that, for he did not mention the subject again.
A short time afterward Phil whispered that the trail was so fresh he would not be surprised if they came in sight of the moose at any moment. He had slung his gun to his back and held his camera ready for instant use in case the chance came.
Of course they could never have come so close to the animal had the wind been blowing from them toward the moose; but the animal followed the habit of most of the deer tribe in advancing into the wind, so as to be able to detect any danger ahead.
Then all at once Ethan gave a low cry.
“Look, Phil!”
There was a snap, and Phil had secured a picture of a big animal not unlike a hornless domestic cow standing there staring at them. He even had time to roll the film and get his camera in condition for business again before, with a sudden plunge the unwieldy beast went off through the drifts.
“Got two beauty shots at her, didn’t you?” queried Ethan; “oh! what a dandy chance for me to pull trigger, if it had only been a big bull with massive horns. But I’m glad for your sake there was so fine a picture. It ought to make a dandy showing, with the snow woods for a background, and those dark firs on the right.”
Of course now that the excitement was all over the boys began to feel somewhat tired after such tedious walking with the clumsy snow-shoes; so when Phil suggested that they find a good place, make a cheerful fire, and sit around in comfort while they ate their lunch, there was no objection from his companion.
A fire is certainly the hunter’s best friend, in winter time at least. Without it how gloomy and cheerless would his surroundings appear, and what physical discomfort must he endure?
The two boys sat there for more than an hour, a friendly log serving them for a seat.
There was plenty of fuel to be had for the gathering; indeed, the site had been selected on that very account.
“I’m trying to make out just which way we ought to go so as to strike that little stream,” Phil was saying, when the other asked what he was doing with a pencil and paper.
“Oh! you mean the one McNab called Cranberry Creek, and that has the beaver colony on it, somewhere like five miles from our lake; is that it, Phil?”
“Yes, and this is how I figure it,” continued the other, showing what he had done in drawing a rough map on the paper. “Here is the camp on the lake; this is the way we got to where we are sitting now, having headed pretty generally into the north. This is the way the creek runs, so if we start from here and keep bending a little to the west we’re likely to strike the stream.”
“Looks good to me, Phil.”
“Then let’s call that our program,” Phil wound up with saying.
“According to the way you figure how long a distance would you think we’d have to cover before we got to the creek?” asked Ethan.
“Oh! anywhere between half a mile, and three times as far,” the other told him.
“And after we reach the frozen creek,” continued Ethan, “all we have to do is to follow it down to the lake, hoping to run across the beaver village on the way.”
“Just so, and since we’ve rested and feel in good trim again, suppose we make a start right away?”
Ethan had no objections. He liked to be on the move, and besides, there may have been a lingering hope still lodged in his mind that they might happen to come upon a noble bull moose before the tramp was over. If there was one of those animals wandering around that region why not others?
So as he strode along Ethan was careful to keep in condition for business. And if by good luck they did happen on game he meant to do his type of shooting even as Phil pressed the button and featured the moose for admiring eyes at home to see.
They were heading pretty generally into the west, though it was Phil’s idea to swing around gradually, and begin to aim more for the lake. Ethan left all that to his chum. He never boasted of his ability to keep track of localities; in fact, on numerous occasions Ethan had lost himself. It was a weakness, he admitted it, and one so ambitious a hunter ought to be ashamed of; but somehow Ethan rather enjoyed the sensation of finding himself suddenly thrown on his own resources, and being compelled to find his way out of a labyrinth.
“I always did like to solve any old puzzle when I was a little kid,” he used to say when Phil took him to task for his lack of forethought in this particular, “and when you wake up to the knowledge that you’re really and truly without your bearings, seems like you had a new and intricate riddle to guess. And I haven’t starved to death yet, you notice. Guess I’ll always be able to smell my way home, one way or another.”
At the same time Ethan frankly confessed that his way was not the right one, and he did not advise any one else to copy after him. They might not enjoy the sensation like he did; or have that faculty for “smelling” home, the instinct that causes a bee to start on a straight line for the hive after loading itself up with nectar from the blossoms, even when a mile distant from home.
The cold seemed to be getting worse, if anything, and Ethan predicted that they would have a bitter night of it.
“But then what do we care?” he added, with a laugh; “with plenty of good grub, a warm fire under a snug shelter, and blankets to wrap around us, we can afford to snap our fingers at the cold weather clerk. Let him order out one of those Canada blizzards we’ve heard so much about, if he wants to give the Mountain Boys a run for their money.”
“We must have covered a whole mile after leaving the place where we sat on that log and ate our lunch,” remarked Phil.
“And no creek yet, as far as I’ve seen, Phil!”
“Nothing doing,” admitted the other; “so I think we’d better begin to swing around a little more to the southwest from now on.”
“You’ll try another half mile, you said, didn’t you?” asked Ethan.
“That will be all I care to risk. If the old creek hasn’t cropped up by then we might as well give it up for to-day. Another time I’ll start up from where it flows into the lake.”
“That would be the better way, Phil; you’d make sure then of finding the beaver colony, if it was still there. As we’re going we may even strike the creek below the dam, and have all our extra walk for nothing.”
The woods seemed very still. Even the crows had gone somewhere for the day to find their rations. Early in the morning the boys had seen flocks flying in a certain quarter, and Phil had given it as his opinion they were heading toward a large lake that would not be frozen up so early in the winter, and along the shores of which doubtless crows could pick up plenty of food.
“Looks like I wasn’t going to be treated to that shot at a moose to-day, at any rate,” half grumbled Ethan, who had been considerably disappointed because the animal they had tracked so persistently had failed to turn out to be a bull with towering horns, and a fit subject for his skill with the rifle.
“Other days coming,” Phil told him, consolingly; “and we’ve had a fine tramp on our snow-shoes to boast of, even if I hadn’t secured the snapshots I did.”
“Excuse me for speaking in the way I did, Phil; I forgot myself that time. It’s all in a day’s work, I guess. And I want you to understand that it’s a treat for me just to get out in the woods along with you.”
“I thought I heard something just then,” said Phil, quickly, swinging his camera around so as to be ready; while Ethan drew back the hammer of his rifle once more, his eyes sparkling with renewed anticipation.
“Yes, I can get it, too, Phil,” he whispered; “it sounds as if it might be over yonder in that thick patch of trees. Move a little to the left, so we can have a clear field in case it rushes out. Now let’s advance slowly.”
They kept on going ahead, and nothing burst into view. Still that queer sound came to their ears. It was not unlike a sob, Ethan thought; though he immediately took himself to task for imagining such a silly thing.
Picking up a stick he gave it a toss into the thicket. The sound stopped, it was true, but not a thing appeared.
Then a minute later and they heard it again. The two boys turned wondering eyes on each other.
“What in the dickens can it be?” whispered Ethan, in a puzzled way.
“I give it up; let’s push in and see. Be ready, if it’s a cat, which is the only thing I can think of,” said Phil.
With that they started ahead again, and gradually working into the thicket soon found themselves staring at a sight calculated to amaze them.
Ethan winked several times as though he could hardly believe his eyes, and little wonder; for there, half lying in the snow was a child, a sturdy looking little chap not over five years of age possibly, and uttering sounds that the boys now realized were pitiful moans.
Apparently the little fellow had actually tried to light a fire, for there were a few sticks gathered, and half burned matches that had been struck in the useless endeavor to ignite the wood, lay scattered on the surface of the snow.
“Look at the little make-believe popgun, Phil,” said Ethan, in a quivering voice; “honest to goodness, I believe he’s started out to hunt game just as his daddy is in the habit of doing, and got lost. But, Phil, he must be nearly frozen. Let’s get a fire going and thaw him out in a hurry!”
Phil had already leaped forward. Forgotten was his camera at that moment, because his generous warm boyish heart was throbbing with sympathy for the poor little chap lying there.
“How about it?” asked Ethan, hovering close by while the other hurriedly examined the boy, who lay there with his eyes half open, seeing them, yet not appearing to notice what they were doing, with only that doleful little cry falling from his blue lips.
“No, he’s not frozen yet, I believe,” asserted Phil; “but another hour would have done the business for him. I reckon he knew how to keep his arms going until he got tuckered out. Get a fire started, Ethan.”
That was all the other was waiting to hear, and in all probability Ethan Allen excelled all his previous records for a quick blaze; because he worked with might and main.
Meanwhile Phil was rubbing the hands and limbs of the child, astonished beyond measure at having run across such a little fellow there in the midst of that Canadian wilderness.
“Here you are, Phil; fetch him up close to it!” called out the other boy, as he judiciously added further pieces of wood to the blaze he had contrived to start.
Neither of them could solve the problem as to where the little fellow had come from.
“He must have rained down,” said Ethan; “or else he’s been with that other party of sportsmen, and slipped away from their camp, bent on having a regular moose hunt of his own. Look at this popgun, will you; it’s one of the kind that has a spring in it, and shoots B. B. shot. I’ve owned the same kind myself years ago. But what do you think, Phil?”
“I’m all up in the air,” replied the other, candidly. “If he came from that other camp he couldn’t be connected with any of those rich sportsmen, for you can see his clothes are those of poverty, though warm enough. He must belong to some Canadian backwoods family. It might be they’ve got a man and wife cooking for them in their camp, or the man as a guide and the woman to get the meals. And the child could belong to them, it might turn out.”
“Didn’t Mr. McNab tell us that terror of the pines, Anson Baylay, had several kids at his home, as well as a wife, a small woman who knew how to manage the big giant?” inquired Ethan.
“That’s a fact!” declared Phil, looking again at the small boy; “I wonder now if this could be one of his brood? But when he gets so he can talk perhaps we’ll be able to find out all about him.”
“What’s the program?” demanded Ethan; “we don’t want to stay here, do we, hoping some one may come in search of the poor kid?”
“No, our best plan is get him to camp with all speed. He may not be as well off as I’ve hoped is the case. And with a night ahead of us, a shelter, with food and a fire will be good for all of us. Fact is, there’s a change coming on; the sun has gone behind the clouds, and it wouldn’t surprise me if we had one of those blizzards you’re so fond of talking about.”
“Well, for myself I wouldn’t mind,” said Ethan, loftily; “but it would be pretty tough on the little chap if we got caught in a howling storm, with the mercury going away down below zero. I’ll take my turn carrying him, Phil, remember.”
“We’ll have to change about, because he’s going to be no light load,” Phil admitted; “I wish the boy would come to himself; he might tell us something that’d put us on the right track. But we’re not going to wait for that.”
With these words he gathered the little fellow up in his arms and started. Ethan on his part took charge of the guns, as well as the camera; and in this manner they headed in what Phil believed to be a bee-line for the camp.
It would have been no small task carrying the boy for any distance, even under ordinary conditions; and the fact of their being on snow-shoes made it all the more difficult.
Still, both of them were stalwart fellows, and able to do considerable along the line of carrying burdens. Their outdoor life had given them more strength than most boys of their age possessed.
Phil kept it up for quite a time.
“Better change off with me, now,” Ethan hinted, for the fifth time.
“All right, then, Ethan; just lay those things down where I can get them, and I’ll give you the boy. He’s some heft, believe me, and a pretty chubby lad for his age, which I shouldn’t take to be more than five, or six at the most.”
“But isn’t it queer he hasn’t come to, and asked us who we are, and where we’re taking him?” remarked the second boy, as he took the object of their solicitude into his arms.
“He’ll come out of it all right later on, I feel pretty sure,” Phil observed, as he loaded himself with the guns and camera, after which he started ahead of his companion so as to break the way.
“There’s a dash of color beginning to show in his cheeks, I do believe!” called out Ethan, presently.
Later on he had to hand his burden over to the other; and this sort of thing continued many times, until all of two hours had gone.
Both boys were growing very tired after their long tramp, and now with carrying their human burden, too. But Phil buoyed up the spirits of his chum by saving that they were close on the camp.
“I can see where the lake lies over yonder,” he remarked, when they chanced to be on a rise that gave them a chance to see around more or less; “and away over in that direction there’s a black smoke rising that must come from the camp of that other party with James Bodman.”
“But that isn’t where we’ve just come from, Phil?” observed Ethan, shrewdly.
“Far away from it, to tell the truth, and I see what you mean, Ethan. It doesn’t look as if this chap could ever have wandered away from that camp this morning, because he would have had to cover miles, which he could never have done with all the deep snow.”
“And, Phil, it must be that he’s a Baylay; but we’ll find all that out when he comes to himself again in the camp. I’m rested now, so give me a chance to spell you.”
Both of them were more pleased than they would have liked to say when they discovered the little shack they had built close to the shore of the lake; with X-Ray just starting out ax in hand to cut some wood.
Ethan gave a whoop, and Lub came running out of the shelter, all excitement.
“Bringing home the bacon, are you, fellows?” he called; “well, you do seem to be staggering under a bully old load, Ethan. Have you bothered getting the moose’s head, horns and all to camp? Might have left that hanging up till—well, what’s this I see? Great Jehosophat! this isn’t a moose’s head; it’s a child!”
X-Ray was equally astounded. They crowded around, and stared, and seemed ready to fairly burst with curiosity.
“Wait till we get him between blankets, boys, and then you’ll have the whole story,” said Phil.
Lub rushed in ahead of the others, and it was his blanket that he held up in front of the fire to “get it good and warm for the poor little chap,” he explained.
There was more color creeping into the face of the unknown child, Phil discovered. He did not believe anything serious could have come upon him, and hoped for the best.
“I really think he’s sleeping from exhaustion and fright now,” he told the others, after they had bundled their charge up snugly, and were sitting there before the glowing fire, with both Lub and X-Ray impatiently waiting to hear all about the remarkable occurrence; for it is not often that hunters start out after moose and return bearing a child that they have saved from being frozen to death.
By degrees the story was told, first how the two hunters managed to get close up on the cow moose so that Phil could take a couple of snapshots; and then later on when aiming to discover the beaver village how they had run upon the lad in the thicket, where he had gone to try and make a fire.
“Think of the little duffer having matches in his pocket, and believing he knew all about the job of making a fire, too,” said Ethan, as though he considered this the most remarkable feature of the whole thing.
The little toy gun had been carefully carried along with their own larger weapons and Phil held it up as he went on to say:
“And he was trying to find his deer just as much as we were, it seems like, from his having this ‘repeater’ in his possession. That’s why I think he must belong to a backwoodsman or a guide, because children in such families take to doing all these things like ducks do to water.”
“And,” continued Ethan, solemnly, “so far as we know there’s only one party up in this neighborhood who has kids of his own, because you remember Mr. McNab told us about him.”
“Gee! you mean that terrible Baylay, don’t you?” asked Lub, aghast, as he glanced apprehensively toward the place where the child was snuggled in his blanket, and then toward the adjacent woods.