"We rest leetle beet, oui?"
"Guess we better, but I'm all right."
"You feel bon, eh?"
"I sure do," Bob assured. "Only a bit puffed."
"How far do you suppose it is to the cabin?" Jack asked.
"No can say. Eet may be mile mebby two, mebby three. Fellers up here no sure of distance."
"In which respect they haven't a thing on a lot people back home," Jack laughed. "Remember that farmer, Bob, up near Jackman, who told us it was only a little over a mile to town when it was exactly four and a half?"
"And he'd lived there all his life," Bob laughed.
After a short rest they started off again, Bob taking the lead with strict orders from Lucky to go slow and not get tired. Not a breath of wind stirred the branches of the trees and not a sound save the crunch of their snow-shoes on the dry snow. All nature seemed at rest and, although the sun was low in the sky, its rays had raised the temperature noticeably since they left the camp.
"My, but it's getting real hot," Jack laughed as he took off his cap and went through the motions of fanning himself. "I don't believe it's much more than thirty below."