"Git, I say!" Mitchell repeated. "After this, we'll shoot on sight. I give ye till I count three. One—two—"
"Back off. We 're caught!" Peter muttered.
They backed away slowly. When they were at the edge of the thickets, Mitchell shouted again:—
"When we're gone, you can come back! Now keep away for your own good!"
The cabin door closed as they stepped back into the undergrowth. Macgregor's face was black as he tucked the useless rifle under his arm. They were all boiling with rage and mortification.
"If we'd only turned those scoundrels out yesterday!" Peter muttered.
"We couldn't foresee this," said Maurice. "Those fellows evidently knew that the diamonds were here—or strongly suspected it. They must have heard of it from your sick Indian, or from the third trapper. They must have been astonished to find us on the spot."
"Very likely," said Fred, "but the present question is what we're going to do to-night."
"We must make the best camp we can in the snow," remarked Maurice.
"I don't see how we'll cut wood without an axe," said Peter. "It's going to be a savage cold night. We have no blankets, either. Lucky we shot those partridges."