"For goodness' sake now, don't go and get lost in that marsh, or we will be in a bad scrape. Things are hard enough as it stands without our getting separated. If you don't just know where the camp is located give three yells, or fire three shots as fast as you can. We'll answer you back, and keep hollering till you show up. Three shots, remember."
Once the two scouts entered the frozen marsh they kept together for a short time.
"How'll I know a muskrat house when I see it, Elmer?" asked Lil Artha.
"Oh! you've seen them often around home, only you forget," replied the other, but in order to make sure, he continued: "you know, they build their nests or houses a little after the same style as beaver do, only of course not so big or secure. If when you're passing a marsh or swampy tract, and spy a number of what look like irregular mounds, or heaps of dead rushes, you can make up your mind muskrats live there. If it's a lake or a stream they can be found in among the rocks too, but not as a rule, because there they are apt to run up against the otter, weasel and the mink, and there's no love lost between those sharp-toothed animals and the muskrat. He's a hard fighter, too, as his jaws tell you, Lil Artha, but hardly a match for a mink in a stand-up scrap. There's a muskrat house right now; let's stop and see if the old fellow is at home."
Accordingly they surrounded the accumulation of dead rushes and leaves and other refuse, after which Elmer tore it to pieces, while Lil Artha stood guard, ready to take snap judgment should the occasion arise.
It turned out to be a disappointment, however, for the mound was empty.
"Nothing doing, eh?" grunted the tall scout, lowering his gun, which he had been keeping half elevated all the while.
"No, and I didn't believe we'd have any success here soon after I started tearing the thing down," replied Elmer. "It showed all the signs of being a deserted shack."
"What could have happened to the former inhabitant, do you think?" continued the disappointed one, to whom even musquash stew was beginning to appeal more and more, as the chances of securing any sort of game diminished in proportion.
"I might guess that he chose to change his place of residence," said Elmer, "or, it might be that Uncle Caleb fancies the old Indian dish once in a while. But let's be moving along. The mill will never grind again with the water that is past; and we're not going to get our supper by standing over a muskrat house that hasn't got any owner."