Cautiously this was opened a trifle, and one by one the boys peered through the crevice; all agreed that there was nothing stirring, and so eventually they made bold to pass inside.
It was discovered that the uninvited guest had made free with some of the stores of the party, but after all, the damage did not amount to a great deal, possibly owing to the coming of Rob and his two chums on the scene shortly after the cat started chewing at the half of a ham it had dragged down from a rafter.
The boys quickly removed all signs of feline presence. Andy declared that he intended skinning his prize, for the pelt if properly cured would make quite an attractive mat for his den at home. It would be pleasant of a winter evening, when resting in his easy chair, to gaze down upon the trophy, and once again picture that stirring scene up there in Maine, under the whispering pines, hemlocks and birches.
They adjusted themselves to the new conditions with that free and easy spirit so natural in most boys. It was next in order to pick out the bunks they meant to occupy while in the logging camp; for there were signs to tell them which had been already chosen by Uncle George and his two guides; and of course, no one thought to settle upon any of these particular sleeping-places.
They soon had a fire burning, and the interior looked quite cheerful. Sitting there Tubby could easily picture what a stirring scene it must have been in those times long gone by when a dozen, perhaps even a score, of muscular lumber jacks lounged about that same dormitory and living room, waiting for the cook’s call to supper.
Later on Tubby came up to Rob while the other was arranging some of the contents of his pack, “scrambled” more or less, as he called it, by being carried for several days on his back, and thrown about “every which-way.”
“Look here, Rob,” the fat scout said, “I happened to run across Uncle George’s fresh log of the trip. He always keeps one, and I’ve even had the pleasure of reading about some exciting adventures he’s met with in former years. So that’s my only excuse for glancing at what he’s jotted down here. The last entry is where he made up his mind to go over to the Tucker Pond to try again for that giant moose. And by the way, Rob, I was wondering whether our excited visitor of last night could be this big chap Uncle George is so wild to get?”
“Now that might be so,” admitted the scout leader, “though the thought hadn’t occurred to me before. He certainly was a buster of a beast, though he went off so fast none of us more than got a glimpse of his size. Anything of unusual importance in the beginning of your uncle’s log, Tubby?”
“Oh, he got a deer on the opening day of the season, and we’ll probably find some of the venison around, if we look again sharply. Something did happen it seems, something that gave my uncle considerable unhappiness, too. He lost one of his two guides.”
“What! did the man die here?” ejaculated the astounded Rob.