"What do you suppose brought the snow-flakes away out hither on the ice?" Tug was asked.
"Oh, we're not so far from land—though we might as well be a hundred miles away for all the good it will do us!—and I suppose they were flying across to the marshes and islands on the north shore. Probably our smoke attracted them."
Having got done with their birds, the boys returned to their chopping. Two or three large pieces were hacked out as back-logs to build their fire upon, instead of making it right on the ice; and since this last load was not needed in the wall, which had been banked up anew, it was spread around on the floor of the house to lift their canvas carpet above the chilly and often wet floor, for the weather was not cold enough now to keep it frozen always hard and dry under the tent.
Evening came, and with it a feeling of homelike comfort queer to think about, yet not quite impossible under the circumstances, forlorn and dangerous as they were. The boys perched themselves on the gunwale of the boat, and watched Katy making snow-bird stew and steeping the fragrant tea.
Then, how good it tasted! What a royal change from steady bacon and crackers, or tough dried beef, and water!
"I wonder if they'll come again?" said Aleck, examining his friend's gun. "Costs a heap o' powder, though, and the noise scares them. Say, Tug, don't you know how to build traps?"
"I could make a figure four," piped Jim, "if I had the box."
"Guess we could manage that. Ugh! what a frightful smoke!"