Both he and Bill thought this a very strange circumstance but they presently concluded that it had been put there by some hunter though for what purpose they could not guess. After going half-a-mile farther into the woods they came to another pair of moose antlers likewise lashed to a tree; this interested them in dead earnest and they began to investigate accordingly. Ordinarily when a trail is blazed through the woods a bit of the bark of the trees is chipped off at short intervals so that those who go or come cannot go astray but must find their way there and back, let come whatever may.
But here was a trail blazed differently from any they had ever seen or heard of, in that at considerable distances apart the antlers of a moose lashed to a tree pointed the way, but what that way led to neither Jack nor Bill had the remotest idea. Sometimes the antlers were so far apart, or led off at such angles, that they had to hunt for an hour or more for the next one.
“What, I’m askin’ you as man to man, does it mean? Are we gettin’ near it?” questioned Bill, blinking his blue eyes.
“I don’t know,” replied Jack soberly, though hoping against hope that it was the sign they sought; “but it is queer, isn’t it?”
“Let’s keep right on,” was Bill’s solemn advice.
“Mush on there, you huskies!” yelled Jack; “double rations of fish for you if we find it.”
“Ten rations of fish, three times a day fer life if we finds it, says I,” came from Bill.
It is not known positively whether Sate could count up to ten or not but he gave Bill an awful look which in husky language meant “cut out that loose talk and maybe each of us will get a piece of fish for supper anyway,” and with that he and his mates mushed on as fast as their masters could pick out the trail.
They kept this up the best part of the day when their quest ended at a log cabin not unlike their own, and over whose door was the largest pair of bull-moose antlers the boys had ever seen. The boys, who had been building high their hopes on something far less tangible than a clew, were disappointed to the quick but they had the right kind of stuff in them and so never batted an eye.
They were greeted by the barking and howling of many dogs and what with the noise their own teams made it sounded as if pandemonium had broken loose. Then Joseph Cook, hunter, trapper, Indian Agent and sometime gold seeker, otherwise familiarly known as Bull Moose Joe, for he had brought down more moose than any other living man, appeared at the door and gave them a warm welcome.