CHAPTER XXVII
A CAVE AND A BEAR
Two days later, the boys, on a hunting expedition, in company with John Yardsley, stood on a barren ridge and saw before them a succession of rolling, snow-clad hills. Lake Wolverine had been left far behind, and the region was wild and desolate.
"A stormy time of it ye must hev had t'other night, cap'n," remarked the trapper, reflectively. "Sorry now I spoke ag'in them fellers so quick," he went on. "Suppose, if it hadn't been fur Musgrove actin' the way he did, mebbe nothin' would hev happened, but, arter all, I really done it—I'm sorry 'nough."
"I never saw such a sensitive chap as Piper," said Bob. "He reminds me of a firecracker."
"D'ye think those young scamps damaged their cabin much?"
"We didn't think it best to stay and find out," laughed Bob; "but I'll bet one side was nearly caved in."
"An' what did Piper an' his crowd do ter Musgrove's hut?"
"Not much—Billy and Tim fixed it up pretty quickly."
On reaching the base of the hill the march was continued along a timbered valley. Here and there, shafts of sunlight, finding their way between the trees, made the snow gleam with dazzling whiteness, while the frostwork covering underbrush and boughs sparkled brightly.