He roused up Pickles, and by a little after six both had a fine breakfast ready. Then the others got up, one after another, and soon daylight broke, and Camp Rest was once more astir.
“Now for nothing less than two or three deer!” cried Harry, enthusiastically.
“That’s the talk,” returned Jack. “And we’ll get them, too, if we go far enough up in the mountains.”
“That is if we don’t all get buck-fever and forget to shoot when we have the chance,” laughed Andy.
“Da is lots ob fellers wot gits dat fever,” remarked Pickles. “I reckerlect my dad a-speakin’ ob a party ob six gen’men from de city gwine up in de mountains to shoot deer, and when day had de chance to knock ober foah of dem, not a single gen’men t’ought to pull trigger, an’ de consekences was dat de deer all got away!”
“We’ll try to do better than that,” laughed Harry, and all agreed with him.
As they expected to be away from camp until sundown, enough meat and crackers were taken along to serve for dinner. This was stowed away in Pickles’ haversack. Then the traps to be left behind were stowed away in the hut, and off they started on what was to be one of the best hunts of the outing.
Boxy wanted to take the sled along to bring back at least one of the deer, but Jack said they could make a drag, if they were lucky enough to get the animal.
Instead of following the creek, they now struck off directly for the mountains. The sunshine of the day previous had settled the snow, and crusted it over in many spots, and they found traveling not as difficult as some of them had imagined.
“I trust we meet no more wolves,” said Jack, as he and Harry trudged along side by side. “One experience with those chaps is enough.”