“You’re right,” added Boxy. “And don’t any one dare to wake me until eight or nine o’clock to-morrow morning.”
“We haven’t named the Camp yet,” said Andy. “Let’s do that before we retire.”
“It’s Camp Rest as much as anything,” replied his brother, and then and there the spot was so christened.
Pickles lost no time in replenishing the fire. Then the sled, with all of the other traps, was dragged into the hut and a heavy blanket was fastened up over the doorway.
It took the boys some little time to arrange themselves to their satisfaction, but, being so tired, they were not as particular as they otherwise might have been.
Harry took a place nearest the doorway, with Jack close behind him. Pickles lay over in a corner by himself, and Boxy and Andy chummed up close in another corner.
Soon every one was asleep, and not a sound save the heavy breathing of the boys, the singing of the wind through the tree branches and the crackling of the fire broke the stillness of the night. The thick snow still came down, but so softly it was not heard.
CHAPTER XVII.
HUNTING FOR FOOD.
It was Jack who was the first awake on the following morning. He lay for some time without moving, and then unrolled himself from his blanket and sprang up, just as Harry opened his eyes with a start.
“Hullo, Jack! up already?”