Four of the ptarmigans, as well as some of the pork and bread, remained, and while the water was heating Dan sliced pork in the frying pan, while Paul dismembered the birds, ready for Dan to arrange them in the pan to fry when the pork grease began to bubble. Amesbury, lazily looking on, began to sing:
“Their wings are cut and they cannot fly,
Cannot fly, cannot fly;
Their wings are cut and they cannot fly,
On Christmas day in the morning.”
The boys laughed, and Paul remarked:
“They can’t fly very far. We clipped their wings on the way out.”
“When did you come from New York, Densmore?”
“Left there last July. How did you know I came from New York?”