Joe, who was readier of speech than his brother, found his tongue first. "Ain't you goin' to give us any fresh meat, pop?"
"No, sir-r-r."
"You ain't got loony in the night, pop?"
"Y' don't calklate to eat half a carcass y'rself, do ye?" said Zebedee, with a feeble attempt at a joke.
"Nop—what I don't eat, I'll lug off in the woods."
"He's loony," said Joe, with resignation, and serving himself with bacon.
'Tilda Jane was silently eating bread and beans, and to her Lucas addressed himself. "Leetle gal, the storm's a-goin' to conclude accordin' to my reckonin'. Kin you foot it out on snow-shoes this mornin' to the nearest house, do you s'pose?"
"Yes, sir," she said, quietly.
"An' you two boys will keep her comp'ny," said Lucas, turning to his sons. "I'm a-goin' to march on to Morse's camp."
There was a howl of dismay from Joe. "You give me your word Zebedee was to go."