“My sons, you must not eat too fast,” [[215]]said Ganawa, “because we have now much time to eat and to sleep and to talk.”
The broiled and the fried steak was soon disposed of, and the boys agreed it was the best meat they had ever eaten. The young moose had been in good condition and the meat was tender and well-flavored.
Within an hour the meat in the kettle was done; and with his hunting-knife every one fished out what he liked, using a piece of bark for a plate. The white boys ate their meat and drank the hot broth with a little salt, but Ganawa ate his meat and drank his broth without any salt.
“I can’t eat any more,” Ray admitted, after he had sampled every kind of meat and had emptied his second cup of soup, “and I’m as warm as I ever was at home in Vermont.”
To both of the lads it seemed a little unreal that they should be sitting here warm and cozy at a bright fire, inhaling the odor of fresh spruce and balsam. The long, weary trailing after the moose seemed like [[216]]a dream of something that happened long ago.
Outside over the tops of the spruces and through the scattered pines on the cliff above, the storm began to roar with that peculiar dull monotone which makes one be truly grateful for a safe and warm camp.
Ray put his head out for a few seconds. “Ugh,” he exclaimed. “It is pitch-dark, the snow is coming down fast, and it is getting awfully cold. We should surely freeze to death if we had not put up this camp.”
As the hunters were very tired they soon stretched out on their beds of spruce and balsam. The moose-hide kept the cold air from their beds and both dog and men were soon sound asleep. Bruce and Ganawa each arose once to replenish the fire. Ray had also intended to take his turn at this work, but when he woke up, daylight was shining through the smoke-hole, and over a fire of birchwood coals Bruce was broiling moose meat for breakfast, while Tawny was sitting [[217]]up, intently watching the cook, in anticipation of his own breakfast.
Ray muttered as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, “I never slept as I did in this storm camp. I tell you, Bruce, a good Indian hunter certainly knows how to take care of himself in the woods.” [[218]]