Roy sat down to rest and wipe the blood from his hands and garments, and then, cutting off the claws of the animal as a trophy, he left it there for a time. Having now far more than it was possible for him to drag to the hut, he resolved to proceed thither with the rabbits, and bring Nelly back to help him to drag home the deer.
“Well done, Roy,” cried Nelly, clapping her hands, when her brother approached with the sled-load of rabbits, “but you are covered with blood. Have you cut yourself?”
She became nervously anxious, for she well knew that a bad cut on a journey costs many a man his life, as it not only disables from continuing the journey but from hunting for provisions.
“All right, Nell, but I’ve killed a deer—and—and—something else! Come, lass, get on your snow-shoes and follow me. We’ll drag home the deer, and then see what is to be done with the—”
“Oh, what is it? do tell!” cried Nell, eagerly.
“Well, then, it’s a bear!”
“Nonsense!—tell me true, now.”
“That’s the truth, Nell, as you shall see, and here are the claws. Look sharp, now, and let’s off.”
Away went these two through the snow until they came to where the deer had been left. It was hard work to get it lashed on the sled, and much harder work to drag it over the snow, but by dint of perseverance and resolution they got it home. They were so fatigued, however, that it was impossible to think of doing the same with the bear. This was a perplexing state of things, for Roy had observed a wolf-track when out, and feared that nothing but the bones would be left in the morning.
“What is to be done?” said Nelly, with that pretty air of utter helplessness which she was wont to assume when she felt that her brother was the proper person to decide.