“I suppose it is,” the Ranger said. “Probably this type that lives in the Rocky Mountains looks a bit different, but it’s the same breed o’ cat. You don’t have panthers out East any more, do you?”
“No, they say one hasn’t been seen in Massachusetts for fifty years or more,” Tom answered. “Don’t know that I’m sorry. I like the deer too well.”
“Speaking of deer, to-morrow we’ll go up and rescue the good carcases he didn’t eat, and have some fresh meat,” said Mills. “Now to bed. Do you know it’s two o’clock?”
“’Most time to get up!” the boys laughed, as they cleaned their rifle barrels and made ready for bunk.
CHAPTER XXVI—A Hundred Miles in Four Days, Over the Snow, Which is a Long Trip To Get Your Mail
The next morning Mills was up at the usual time, but he let the boys sleep, and it was the sound of the breakfast dishes that woke Joe, who was usually first up to do the cooking and get the stove red hot. Joe himself slept in a separate little room partitioned off at the back, so he could have his window wide open without freezing out the whole cabin. He got up now and hurried out, still sleepy.
“I had a funny dream last night,” he said. “I dreamed we were bringing the lion home on the sledge Peary took to the North Pole.”
“Not a bad idea!” the Ranger exclaimed. “We might make a sledge to get the deer meat home on. Suppose we do that to-day, and to-night we’ll take turns guarding the yard from possible wolves.”
In the Ranger’s cabin was a kit of tools, and outside was plenty of wood. A sled like Peary’s, however, was impractical in the soft snow, and, moreover, they soon found that without small hard woods to work with it would be impossible to build any kind of an enduring sledge.