Having disposed of a hearty breakfast—it was astonishing what an appetite the cold, bracing air from the mountains gave him—Oscar shouldered his rifle and left the cabin.
He was gone all day; and when he came back, just before dark, he carried over his shoulder a fine bunch of mink and otter, which he had found in the guide’s traps and deadfalls.
He had taken particular notice of the nature of the localities in which these traps and deadfalls were set, and thought he had learned enough to warrant him in beginning the business of trapping on his own responsibility.
Big Thompson had already returned, and supper was nearly ready.
“That’s what I have done to-day,” said Oscar, as he entered the cabin and exhibited his bunch of game. “Now, what have you done?”
“I’ve found out that we’ve got the country to our own two selves ag’in, like we’d oughter have,” answered Big Thompson. “That feller has dug out.”
“I am sorry to hear it,” said Oscar. “I was in hopes you would find him and bring him back with you.”
“I might have fetched him here if I’d found him, an’ then ag’in I mightn’t. I don’t reckon ye’d make friends with every feller ye’d meet in the settlements, would ye? Wal, ’taint safe to do so out yere in the hills, nuther. Most likely he heared ye yellin’ an’ shootin’ yesterday, an’ has gone off to find more elbow-room.”
“I should think he ought to have heard me, if he was anywhere within a mile of the valley,” said Oscar, with a smile. “I tell you I awoke the echoes. But it seems to me that you fellows want a good deal of elbow-room. I wouldn’t care if there were a dozen other hunters here. Do you know who he was?”
“I didn’t see him,” was the answer.