The Boy Scouts in A Trapper's Camp

by Thornton W. Burgess

"I'll bet it was cold in the night," said Upton as they sat down to bacon, flapjacks and hot chocolate.

"Right you are, my boy," replied Pat. "When I got up the second time it was cold enough to freeze the tail off a brass monkey."

"When you got up the second time! What in the dickens were you up for?" exclaimed Hal.

"To kape yez from freezing to death," grinned Pat. "Did yez think the fire would feed itself?"

"I didn't think anything about it," confessed Hal. "Gee, it must have been cold when you crawled out to start things this morning! Makes me shiver to think of it. I guess the rest of us are the lucky little boys to have everything started for us and a ripping good fire going before we turned out. Do you always get up before daylight in the woods, Pat?"

"Sure," replied Pat. "It's nothing when you're used to it. Most trappers are on the trail by break of day. The days are all too short in winter, anyway, especially when you've got a long trap line to work over. I expect Alec is on the line now. He'll be trying to get through early to-day so as to have things ready for us when we reach the cabin. It's going to be a stiff pull to-day for you fellows, and the sooner we get started the better."

As soon as breakfast was finished the toboggan was packed, the brush piled once more in front of the lean-to and the fire put out by the simple process of throwing snow on it. The cold light of the stars had given way to the colder gray of the dawn as they once more slipped on the shoes and hit the trail around Little Goose Pond. It was then that the three novices realized that they were indeed tenderfeet. They had not gone half a mile before it seemed as if every muscle from their thighs down was making individual and vigorous protest. But they were game, and if Pat guessed their feelings it was not from any word which they let drop.

Gradually the stiffness wore off, and at the end of a couple of hours they were traveling with some degree of comfort. Pat purposely set an easy pace for the first few miles and he kept a watchful eye on Sparrer, for whom he felt personally responsible. As a matter of fact the youngster was standing it even better than the other two. For one thing, he was considerably lighter, and his shoes bore him up better than was the case with his companions. In places where the snow was packed he did not sink in at all, whereas the others broke through slightly, and on soft snow he did not begin to sink as far as they did. Of course this meant far less strain on his muscles, and greater ease in walking.

As they rounded the end of the pond Pat pointed out the place where he had been mistaken for a deer by two city boys and got a bullet through his hat. A little beyond this point they saw the first sign of life since they had entered the woods, the tracks of a hare or snow-shoe rabbit, and with them other tracks which at first glance all but Pat mistook for those of another rabbit.

"You fellows wait here a minute," said he and followed the trail into a thicket of young hemlocks. A few minutes later he called to them to join him. They found him at the farther side of the thicket. At his feet the snow had been considerably disturbed, and there were some blood-stains and torn scraps of white fur. Beyond a single trail led to the foot of a tree and there ended.