"I 'clar' to goodness, boys, yo'll be froze," said Peter Lexington.
"A little snow and ice doesn't scare us, Peter," rejoined Bob, smilingly.
"Talk about hunting," put in Hackett, bringing a stick up to the level of his shoulder and squinting one eye along it. "I can hardly wait. Just let me get a crack at something—the bigger the better."
"That's the ticket," chimed in Nat. "It will beat a summer trip all hollow. Say, fellows, what will we need?"
"Help, befoah de voyage am over," interrupted Peter, with a loud chuckle.
"Now don't begin any croaking, Peter, or you'll scare our little friend from going."
"Indeed he won't do anything of the kind," retorted Tom Clifton, indignantly.
"We'll need lots of stuff," said Sam Randall; "tea, coffee, sugar, spices, flour, canned goods, potatoes, beans, molasses, bacon, blankets, skates, and snow-shoes."
"We can pack the whole business on a couple of sleds," observed Dick Travers; "and send them by freight to some station near the backwoods. Got your map, Bob?"
"Sure."