They tried chopping it, but you could more easily chop a bolt of linen sheeting. The axe laboriously chewed out little bits and scattered shreds.
"Stop! We'll lose a lot that way."
While they were lamenting this fact, and wondering what to do, the dogs set up a racket, and were answered by some others. Benham was coming along at a rattling pace, his dogs very angry to find other dogs there, putting on airs of possession.
"We got all this moose-meat," says Potts, when Benham arrived on the scene, "but we can't cut it."
"Of course not. Where's your hand-saw?"
The Boy brought it, and Mr. Benham triumphantly sawed off two fine large steaks. Kaviak scraped up the meat saw-dust and ate it with grave satisfaction. With a huge steak in each hand, the Colonel, beaming, led the procession back to the cabin. The Boy and Mac cached the rest of the moose on the roof and followed.
"Fine team, that one o' yours," said Salmon P. Hardy to the trader. "You'll get to Minóok, anyhow."
"Not me."
"Hey?"
"I'm not going that way."