“Might as well have let you pull too,” said the latter; “but never mind—you may rest this time.”
No fires were burning yet, as they trudged on over the frozen snow, while the stars glittered brilliantly as if it were midnight, giving quite enough light for them to make their way over the four miles which divided them from Tregelly’s claim.
“Getting pretty close now,” he said, breaking the silence; for the rugged state of the slippery snow had resulted in the latter part of the journey being made in silence, only broken by the crunching of the icy particles and the squeaking sound made from time to time by the sledge runners as they glided over the hard surface.
Suddenly Tregelly stopped short, and as they were in single file, the rest halted too.
“What’s the matter?” said Dallas.
“Why, some one’s took up a claim and made a shanty close up to mine. No, by thunder! They’ve got in my place and lit a fire! Oh, I’m not going to stand that!”
“What impudence!” said Dallas.
“Impudence! I call it real cheek! But come on; I’ll soon have them out of that!”
“Hist!” whispered Abel; “let’s go up carefully and see first. It may be some one we know.”
“Whether we know them or whether we don’t,” said Tregelly angrily, “they’re coming out, and at once. Do you hear? There’s more than one of them. Come along.”