"Bear meat," said Slosson briefly. "Sergeant Overton and Lieutenant Prescott brought it in just before noon with their compliments."
"Where are they now?"
"Somewhere out in the world," replied Private Kelly, nodding at the mountain tops beyond. "They went out to see how much more they could get."
Slosson had mentioned the sergeant before the lieutenant, but that was not an unpardonable breach of etiquette, out here in the wilds.
More especially was it proper because Sergeant Hal, and not the handsome, fine, young West Pointer, commanded this camp and detachment.
"Where are your mates, Sarge?" inquired Slosson.
"Oh, I left my crowd," smiled Noll. "They won't be in for an hour yet, in all probability."
"Get anything, any of you?" queried Kelly.
"Not a thing, up to the time I quit," sighed Noll.
"Humph! We've all got to get a brace on us," muttered Slosson. "This is our third day in camp, and what have we killed so far? Just enough meat to satisfy the appetites we've developed up here in the hills!"