“I shouldn’t wonder,” said the trapper, laughing heartily; “but that doesn’t come of bein’ wrapped up in the blankets. You war purty well chawed up when me an’ Useless diskivered you.”
Dick raised Frank to a sitting posture, and, in spite of his objections, once more drew the blankets about him, allowing him, however, the free use of his arms; and the young hunter soon discovered that he was not quite so well as he had imagined, for sharp pains shot through his body, and he was so weak he could scarcely sit up.
“I believe I had something of a fight with that moose, didn’t I?” he inquired, as he broke off a piece of the toast.
“I believe you did, judging from the looks of your clothes,” answered Harry, as he laid down his plate, and took from a peg in one corner of the hut all that remained of Frank’s garments.
The coat and pants were torn almost into shreds, and covered with blood, and the sole of one of his boots had been pulled off by the sharp hoofs of the deer. Brave had also suffered severely, judging from the bloody bandages that he wore.
“It was a narrow escape, wasn’t it?” said Frank, as he gazed in astonishment at his tattered garments.
“Yes, indeed,” said Archie; “I shouldn’t have cared about being in your boots just then. How you ever made out to get out of those clothes alive, is more than I can tell.”
“It war a careless trick,” said Dick, “tacklin’ that animal in that ar way. You ought to knowed better.”
“Well, we got the moose, didn’t we?” inquired Frank.
“Yes,” answered George, chewing away at a large piece of meat; “and we are eating him up as fast as we can.”