“It sounds a great deal better than it really is,” spoke Tom. “That sort of thing is all right to read about, but I like my game to stand a little after being killed. And it’s hard to dress and get ready anything when you’re on a tramp. So I think we’ll just take our grub along. We’ll have more time for hunting then.”
“That’s right,” assented Jack.
Bert’s interest in his gun prompted George to look after his weapon. Jack and Tom declared theirs were already in perfect shape for the morrow’s sport, providing they saw any game.
“I do wish we’d spot a bear,” said Jack, with an envious sigh.
“Not much chance of that,” came from Tom. “I asked Sam about that, and he said while bears were plentiful in this part of the Adirondacks, at certain seasons, this wasn’t exactly the time for them. They’re probably in their caves, or hollow logs, waiting for Candlemas Day, to come out and look for their shadows.”
“Do you really believe in that superstition—that if a bear, or a ground hog, does see his shadow on that day, there’ll be six weeks more of Winter, and if he doesn’t, there won’t?” asked George.
“There you go again—shooting questions at us!” laughed Tom. “No, I don’t believe it, but lots of folks do.”
“Did Sam say anything about the chances for getting more deer?” Bert wanted to know.
“Well, yes, he admitted there were plenty this year. But I’ve shot mine, so I’m not interested,” Tom said.