CLOUD SHADOWS
“Now, the way for you fellows to manage,” said Mr. La Fay, “is either to take my horse and wagon for your traps, or, if you haven’t got too many, to lug them across the stream down here. You’ll find an old road and a ford that you can wade across a little below the falls, if you’re not afraid of getting your feet wet.”
“We’ll try that way,” said John.
A little yellow dog which had been smelling around now began barking over something he had found a few steps down the hill.
“What’s he got now, I wonder,” said La Fay, going toward him.
On the grass lay the remnants of a big turkey, about which the dog was sniffing excitedly.
“That’s my gobbler,” said La Fay. “A fox must have got hold of him last night. See, back there where all those feathers are scattered about is where the fox jumped onto him. That’s where he’d squatted for the night. Well, I’ll have that fox one of these days. That little dog can’t be beat for tracking. He’s the best dog to start up partridges or hunt rabbits or anything of that sort you ever see.”
The boys asked if they might borrow a spade, and while at the barn getting it a little girl came running out to them from the house. She was perhaps eight or nine years old, a stout, vigorous little person, resembling her father closely in features.
“That’s the young one,” said La Fay. “Have you got the dishes washed, Birdie?”