“’Tis that!” said David, “and t’ have such a fine hunt t’ take home. Pop’ll be wonderful pleased!”
“Won’t he now!” Andy agreed. “It won’t be much over a month, whatever, will it, Davy, before th’ break up, and we can start for home?”
“No, th’ last of May, whatever,” said David, “and won’t it be fine, Andy, t’ go home with all th’ furs? They’s plenty, I knows, now, t’ pay for Jamie goin’ t’ have th’ great doctor cure his eyes. Indian Jake said so, and he’s a wonderful good judge. There’s our share of his fur, too. And won’t it be fine t’ have Jamie see again as well as ever he did!”
“Won’t it, now!” exclaimed Andy. “’Tis hard t’ wait till th’ time comes t’ go!”
They were a long distance from the tilt. Walking as fast as ever they could, favoring Andy’s sore feet, and with a stop only to boil the kettle at noon, it was near sundown when they saw the little log building scarcely visible above the drifts.
“There’s no tracks about,” said Andy, as they approached the door.
“If Indian Jake came up ’twas a week ago, whatever,” suggested David. “Th’ snow since then covered his tracks. He was sure t’ be lookin’ for us when we didn’t go t’ th’ Narrows.”
This surmise was confirmed upon entering the tilt. The frying pan used by Indian Jake in cooking his dinner sat unwashed upon the stove, and there were other evidences of his visit. And the boys immediately missed the two marten skins which they had left there, and which the half-breed had taken.
“He were thinkin’, now, we had perished, and so he took th’ fur,” David explained. “He were thinkin’ t’ take all our fur home t’ Pop when he takes his, and he’s feelin’ dreadful bad about our bein’ dead.”