The next instant Brinton was sobbing in his arms.
Brinton's mother came into the room. "Dear me!" she said; "what ever can be the matter with the clock? It's half an hour fast."
SNOW-SHOES AND SLEDGES.[1]
BY KIRK MUNROE.
CHAPTER XXXVII.
BIG AMOOK AND THE CHILKAT HUNTERS.
"A goat is a good thing so far as it goes," remarked Phil, gravely, "but one goat divided among one man, two boys, a little chap, and three awfully hungry dogs isn't likely to last very long. With plenty of goats ready to come and be killed as we wanted them, we might hold out here, after a fashion, until the arrival of a tourist steamer. Wouldn't that be fun, though? And wouldn't we astonish the tourists? But how we should hate goat by that time! Still, I don't think there is the slightest chance of our having that experience, for I understand that the mountain-goats are among the shyest and most difficult to kill of all wild animals.
"Which being the case," continued Phil, "it won't do for us to live as though we had goats to squander. Consequently, we must make an effort to get out of here before our provision is exhausted. As we have no boat in which to go to Sitka, and the nearest point at which we can obtain one is Chilkat; that is the place we have got to reach somehow. So I propose that Serge and I take a prospecting trip into the mountains to-morrow and see what chance there is for our crossing them."
As no better plan than this was offered, Phil and Serge started early the following morning on their tedious climb. Each carried a gun, and they took Musky and Luvtuk with them in the hope of getting a bear, as Serge had heard that bears were plentiful in those mountains. Nel-te was left to take care of the hospital, in which Jalap Coombs, with his many aches, and Amook, with his cut feet, were the patients.