“Surely we won’t eat the foxes and wolves!” cried Roy, laughing.
“Not till we’re starvin’,” replied his father. “Come, let’s go on—are ye tired, lad?”
“Fresh as Walter,” said the boy, proudly.
“Well, we won’t try you too much. We’ll just take a sweep round by the Wolf’s Glen, an’ look at the traps there—after which make for home and have our New Year’s dinner. Go ahead, Walter, and beat the track; it is your turn this time.”
Without speaking, Walter slipped his feet into the lines of his snow-shoes, extinguished his pipe, and led the way once more through the pathless forest.
Chapter Two.
The Starved Indian.
In the depths of the same forest, and not far from the locality to which we have introduced our reader, a Red Indian was dragging his limbs wearily along over the untrodden snow.