“Winter is killed,” declared Ben, next morning. “Thawed all night, and it’s melting like blazes now. Of course, we may have some more cold weather, and snow, too, but it won’t last.”
The boys found the snow soft and watery, and where it had been well trodden down before the door it had disappeared entirely and left a square of muddy-brown earth, the first they had seen for several months.
“Does spring come as early as this up here?” asked Ed.
“Not often,” said Ben; “and don’t make any mistake, son, we’re a long ways from it yet. This is an early thaw, and means that most of the ice and snow will go; but we’ll have many cold days yet before you hear the blue-birds warble.”
A white, cloud-like vapor drifted through the woods and out over the lake. Seeing it, the guide assured the boys that it was a real thaw. By evening several of the big pines in the little clearing about the cabin had bare patches of ground at their feet.
“This will break up the ‘yards’ and send the deer and moose out into the woods,” said Ben.
Cold weather quickly came again, however, and for several weeks they had winter in all its glory. Although there were snow-storms—and big ones, too—the snow did not remain long on the ground. The days were becoming longer and the sun higher, and at noon there was often the suggestion of real spring in the soft, pine-laden air.
The boys were quite content to see the snow go, for they had learned well their lessons written on it during the winter. Each mark across its smooth, unruffled surface had been deciphered. The scrape of a wind-blown reed, the scratch of a tumbling leaf, the indistinct tracing of a fluttering wing, the careful tread of a stealthy foot, the wild jump of a startled buck, all were noted and recognized by the trained eyes of the young woodsmen. They had learned, too, to discriminate at a glance between a fresh and an old trail.
Besides all this, they had mastered many other things of great value to them. They had been taught the use of a compass, and also how to set a course by the sun, moon, or stars. They had learned about traps and trapping, and the methods of skinning and preparing pelts. They had become thoroughly versed in hunting and the habits of the animals they hunted. They were entirely familiar with the calls, noises, and sounds of the wilderness, and knew the reason for each of them. They knew the trees and the shrubs. They were able to select a suitable site and make a proper camp. All these things, and more, they had learned during the winter now almost gone. And, having learned them, they were not sorry that it should go, for there were still other things to be learned with the coming of spring.