“’Twon’t last till then!” objected Andy. “And even if it does we won’t have any grub left t’ eat on th’ way home after th’ break up.”
“We’ll have t’ make out somehow,” insisted David. “We’ll fix un this way, Andy. Whilst I tends th’ traps you’ll hunt for pa’tridges and snare rabbits. With what you kills we’ll make out, and save what’s in th’ tilts t’ use goin’ home.”
“Th’ huntin’s about over, why can’t we strike up and go now?” asked Andy.
“We can’t do that,” David objected. “We has t’ wait for th’ break up t’ take th’ boat out. We can’t take un out till th’ lake and th’ river gets free of ice. We’ll have t’ take un, whatever, because Pop’ll need un t’ bring in his outfit when he comes back in th’ fall t’ hunt.”
“We’ll have t’ take th’ tilt stove, too, to use in th’ tent goin’ out,” suggested Andy. “Indian Jake took th’ tent stove.”
“We won’t need un,” said David. “We won’t have any tent. Indian Jake took un. We’ll make out though. ’Twill be warm enough then, but ’tis a rainy time of year, and we’ll have t’ sleep wet of nights, without a tent or stove.”
Supper of boiled ptarmigan, hardtack, marrow fat for butter, and tea was as good a meal as any could wish, and quite as good as any to which David and Andy were accustomed on the trail. But there was the future to be provided for.
“’Tis good Indian Jake didn’t take th’ grub from th’ other tilts,” Andy observed, as they made the tilt tidy, for Indian Jake had left it in a state of confusion.
“He took ’most everything else except th’ tilts,” said David a little bitterly. “With havin’ t’ keep most of th’ flour and pork that’s in th’ other tilts to use goin’ home, it’ll take all our spare time huntin’ a livin’, and we’ll have t’ make out that way till we goes.”
“We might catch some whitefish and namaycush,” suggested Andy. “We caught a rare fine lot when we went fishin’ with Indian Jake.”