The cabin proved snug, and comfortable beyond their expectations. It had a small doorway, that could be closed by buttoning a strip of canvas over it, and the roof sloped at just the right angle.
“We couldn’t have more solid comfort if we were at home,” declared Jerry. “Not a drop of water can get at us.”
“And we’ve got protection from the wind on three sides,” added Hamp. “I feel like going to bed right now.”
“Not before supper?” exclaimed Brick, in a tone of such earnest alarm that his companions laughed merrily.
But there was much to do before the meal could be prepared, and no time was wasted. First the traps were carried into the cabin, and arranged in place. Then all three of the boys set to work on the deer, and partially skinned it. They cut off a number of tender steaks, and hung the carcass to the lower limbs of a stout pine tree.
Brick and Jerry gathered a big store of fuel, and built a roaring fire, while Hamp chopped a hole through the ice on the margin of the lake, and brought a pail of water. Half an hour later, when the hungry and tired lads sat around the blazing logs appeasing their appetites with crisp venison, and fried potatoes, and crackers, and steaming coffee, they felt that their happiness was complete. It was past ten o’clock when they crawled into the shanty, and buried themselves between soft boughs and warm blankets. Outside, the logs smoldered and crackled, and the far-away beasts of the forest wailed to the rising moon.