"Sure we will," replied the owner of the cabin, heartily, "and I hope it falls to your gun, Steve, seeing you dote on venison so. But it might be to-morrow I'd like to set a few of my traps, and reckoned that some of you boys'd want to watch me do the job."
"That's right," cried Owen and Max together, their eyes fairly sparkling with delight at the anticipated treat.
So they talked on, and Trapper Jim told lots of mighty interesting things as he smoked his old black pipe and sent curling wreaths of blue smoke up the broad throat of the chimney.
"Wonder if the moon ain't up long before now?" remarked Steve, finally.
"Go and find out," suggested Bandy-legs.
Whereupon Steve arose, stretched his cramped legs, and, going over to the door, opened it. They saw him pass out, and as the trapper had started to relate another of his deeply interesting experiences the boys devoted their attention to him. But it was not three minutes later when Steve came rushing into the cabin, his eyes filled with excitement, and his voice raised to almost a shout as he cried out:
"Wolves; a whole pack of 'em comin' tearin' mad this way!"
CHAPTER III.
WHAT WOODCRAFT MEANT.