"I'd like to go out duck shooting," said Whopper. "It would be something different."
"No ducks around Firefly Lake," answered Giant. "I asked Jed."
Jack Dalton was questioned and said that there were plenty of wild ducks below the Philbrook preserve—at a locality known as the Marshes—and he told them how to get there.
"But you want to be careful about walking over the Marshes," he said. "In the summer time there are lots of bog holes, an' it ain't none too safe in the winter time."
As Jack Dalton was going on to Fairview with Jed Sanborn, it was decided by the boys to send the buck and one of the other deer home, which would be easy, with two men to draw the load. All spent a comfortable night in camp, nothing coming to disturb them. Breakfast was a substantial one, and by nine o'clock Jed and Dalton set off with their load, the old hunter also carrying various letters for the folks at home. The boys went out on the lake to see them off, and gave them a rousing cheer on parting.
"Tell everybody we are having the time of our lives," shouted Snap after the pair.
There was more snow in the air, and the young hunters spent the remainder of that day in camp, cleaning the game they had brought in and also their firearms, and mending a couple of snowshoes that had become a little broken. A portion of the chimney also needed attention, and before they knew it, night was once more upon them.
"I'll tell you what," said Snap. "Out here the time seems to fairly fly."
"Boys, do you realize that day after to-morrow is Christmas," came from Whopper.
"So it is!" was the cry.