“Let’s eat!” called one of them, starting for the cabin, and, though it had been but two hours since they had eaten a very good meal, the boys prepared another and did away with it.
“I surely hope this night will be more quiet than last night,” said Frank. “We’re all tired and we need some rest. Let us get to bed early, and to-morrow we’ll get out to hunt for that moose bull. I will never be satisfied until I have tried to bring him down.”
After this several days, including Sunday, passed quickly. All of the boys went hunting and fishing, and though they did not see the big bull moose—or in fact any moose or deer—they did manage to bring down half a dozen partridges and two wildcats. The fight with the wildcats was a thrilling one. The first of these beasts was laid low by Lanky, but it took Frank, Paul, and Herman Hooker to get the second.
“Wildcats are not so bad,” said Frank. “But I want that moose.”
Late that day they caught sight of a lynx—a member of the wildcat family—but though Frank, Paul and two others shot at the beast, it got away in the snow.
At fishing the crowd was far more successful. They got two fine mess of pickerel and perch, and Frank managed to catch a muskellonge that weighed ten or eleven pounds. He had hard work landing this catch, but finally did it successfully.
“Gee, now we can eat fish for a week!” cried Paul. “But before you cut him up I want a picture,” he added, and the photo was speedily snapped.
Then came a day of more snow and high winds, and the boys remained indoors, playing games, telling stories, and trying their hand at making candy.
“Wish we could get out and look for that big bull moose again,” sighed Frank, one night when they were preparing for bed.
“Wow, Frank’s got the moose on the brain,” chuckled Buster.