"Were you findin' the oars we caches on Swile Island?" asked Toby.
"Aye, I finds un, but I'm not findin' the boat," nodded Skipper Zeb, a puzzled look on his face. "I'm not knowin' what to think o' that. When I finds the oars this marnin' I says, 'The lads gets to Swile Island, whatever.' But when I'm not findin' fin or feather o' the boat, I'm not knowin' what to think about un. I figgers that they's no chanst to get away from Swile Island with the boat, whatever, with the storm and the high seas that's runnin' for a week or ten days, and I knows you'll be gettin' out o' grub."
Then Toby told him of his own and Charley's experiences, and while he listened admiringly he asked many questions.
"Well, now! With good sense and the Lard's help you pulls out of a wonderful bad fix. You does all you knows how, and then prays the Lard. That's the way! 'Tis no use wastin' time prayin' till you does your best first," and Skipper Zeb nodded his head approvingly. "Well, now!" and leaning back his head he looked at Charley approvingly. "When you shoots a deer I'll be namin' you a Labradorman! 'Tis the proudest name I'm thinkin' of, and that you'll be! There's a fine chance to knock over some deer right handy. I sees fine footin' this evenin'. A big band of deer's workin' down this way, and they're like to come out any time. 'Tis a wonderful big band. Some years they comes and some years they don't. This year they comes."
Skipper Zeb explained to Charley that at this season of the year the snow became so deep in the wooded interior that the caribou, or wild reindeer, had a great deal of digging to do with their hoofs to reach the thick beds of moss which covered the ground beneath the snow, and upon which the animals chiefly fed.
He also explained that each fall the caribou gathered in great bands or herds, and when food became hard to get, they would move or migrate to barren places, where the wind, its force unobstructed by trees, swept the greater part of the snow from the moss covered ground, and thus it was much easier for the animals to reach food. Such a barren was that where the wolf fight had taken place, and where Toby had caught his fox.
"This band, I'm thinkin', is on the barrens to the nuth'ard of the mesh, where you fights the wolves," said Skipper Zeb. "The footin' goes that way. We'll have a look in the marnin'."
Not a sign of caribou had Toby or Charley seen the whole winter, and Skipper Zeb's statement that a large herd was so near was exciting news. All winter they had been living upon rabbits, partridges and an occasional porcupine. Caribou venison would be a great treat, and the boys were keen for the hunt.
The great event of the evening was reserved until after they had eaten. Then Toby, with much dignity, opened a chest and brought forth the otter and marten skins, and, as a climax, the silver fox pelt. Skipper Zeb was quite overcome. His praise of the boys was unstinted.
"I makes a fine winter's hunt myself," said he, "but nary a silver has I ever caught. I has a rare fine catch of martens and minks, and one cross fox, three reds and seven whites, but I never catches a silver. 'Tis worth all the fox skins I gets three times over!"