It took several days of hard talking on the part of both boys to bring Mrs. Parsons and the girls over to the point of letting them go off on a hunt which was to last at least three days. But at last the lady of the cabin learned from Colonel Boone that there was no danger from Indians just then, and she consented and the girls followed suit.
“But you must be sure and keep out of danger, Joe,” said Cora.
“Yes, better let the bear go than have him eat you up,” added Harmony.
“Thee must be very careful,” said Mrs. Parsons to Harry. “Remember, with thy father gone I rely much upon thee, my son.” And she kissed him affectionately.
Each of the young pioneers went out provided with a rifle and plenty of ammunition, a hunting knife, and a tomahawk, and also a game bag containing some provisions, and a tinder box with an extra flint and steel. Their snowshoes were donned in the living room, and everybody turned out to see them off.
They had already decided in what direction to strike out—up the brook where they had brought down the two deer and the old buck. The watercourse was now deeply covered with snow. They walked on the top of this snow with care, determined not to take a tumble while in sight of those left behind.
Quarter of an hour’s walking took them around a curve of the stream, and looking back they saw that the homestead was no longer to be seen.
“Now we can strike out more boldly,” came from Harry, and he did so, followed closely by Joe. But their pride soon had a fall, and one went down directly after the other, Joe forwards and Harry backwards. There was a great floundering, and several shrieks of laughter, and both boys got up sadder and wiser.
“No use of talking, snowshoes are tricky things,” said Joe. “The very moment you think you are safe you aren’t at all.”
“We have got to get used to them, Joe. Remember, Marquette has used snowshoes for years—probably ever since he was a little boy.”