"Yes," Phil told him, "but there's always a rule in the woods that governs cases like this, no matter who owns the land. First come, first served. If we find that shack occupied by some sportsmen and their guides, why, we'll have to chase along and put up one for ourselves somewhere else."
"Huh! I don't like to hear you say that," remarked Lub, who would possibly have liked to enter into a discussion along the line of right of property, only none of the others cared to bother with such a question, particularly after what Phil had said.
They pushed on and approached the cabin. One and all were looking eagerly to discover any signs of occupancy, and greatly to their satisfaction no dog came barking toward them, nor was there even a smudge of smoke oozing out of the mud-and-slab chimney that had been built up alongside the back of the shack.
"I guess it's all hunk," admitted Ethan, with a sigh of relief, as they drew near the partly open door. "See that gray squirrel running along the roof, would you? He wouldn't be doing that same if folks were around."
"Oh! that depends on what kind of folks," remarked Phil. "For my part I never yet would shoot little animals around camp. I like to see them frisking about too much to want to eat them up. But as you say, it looks as if we had the cabin to ourselves, after all, for which I'm glad."
"Tell me about that, will you?" muttered Lub, also showing positive signs of satisfaction.
All of them pushed into the cabin.
"Why, this is just the thing!" cried Ethan Allan; "see the bunks along one side of the wall, boys,—two, three, four of them, if you please."
"Just one apiece for us, and I choose this because it looks more roomy, and better fitted for a fellow of my heft than any of the rest!" Lub was heard to say.
They immediately began to unfasten the straps that held their packs in place.