“That we will, now!” said David.
“And good eatin’, too,” said Indian Jake, recovering his mitten. “There’s no better eatin’ than namaycush.”
With his sheath knife Indian Jake severed the head, cut open the fish, and cleaned it.
“Now ’twon’t be so heavy to carry,” he explained.
Already it was stiffening with the cold, and Indian Jake, lifting it to his shoulder, set out for the tilt, while David and Andy with the bag of whitefish, followed.
They were nearing the tilt when suddenly Indian Jake paused and peered intently up the lake shore. David and Andy followed his gaze and saw something, close in the edge of the trees, move.
“Deer!” exclaimed Indian Jake.
The three ran for their rifles.