As they had seen, the contents of the place were all topsy-turvy. The furniture consisted solely of a rough table of split planks, and a couple of rough seats. A heap of rusty, brown sapin in a corner, covered with a torn blanket, represented a bed—possibly the one in which the trapper had died.
In one corner stood a double-barreled shotgun, still loaded. Three pairs of snowshoes were thrust under the rafters; several worn moccasins lay on the floor, along with nearly a dozen steel traps, a bundle of furs, some of which were valuable, a camp kettle, an axe, strips of hide, dry bones, a blanket, fishing-tackle—an unspeakable litter of things, some worthless, some to men in a wilderness precious as gold.
The last occupants had plainly left in such a desperate hurry that they had abandoned most of their possessions. Why had they done it? The boys could not guess.
The heavy formalin fumes rose and choked them as they poked over the rubbish. But they found nothing to show the fate of the prospector and the surviving half-breed, or even to tell them whether this was really the cabin they were seeking.
"Throw this rubbish into the fireplace," said Macgregor. "Burning is the best thing for it, and the fire will ventilate the place. There's no danger of germs on the metal things."
"These furs are worth something," said Fred, who had been looking them over. "There are a dozen or so of mink and marten—enough to pay the expenses of the trip."
They laid the furs aside, and cramming the rest of the litter into the snowy fireplace, with the dead balsam boughs, set it afire. In the red blaze the hut assumed an unexpectedly homelike aspect.
"Not such a bad place for the winter, after all," Maurice remarked, casting his eye about. "I shouldn't mind spending a month trapping here myself. What if we did, fellows, eh? Here are plenty of traps, and we might clear three or four hundred dollars, with a little luck."
"Here's something new," interrupted Peter, who had been grubbing about in a corner.
He came forward with a woodsman's "turkey" in his hands—a heavy canvas knapsack, much stained and battered, and rather heavy.