For a time the lads could scarcely realize their good fortune. Then, with thankful hearts, they pulled the sled away from the door, and crept out.
The fire had burnt low, and they hurriedly stacked it with fresh fuel. Two dead wolves lay in the ravine, and the one inside the cabin made three. The bodies were dragged down the hollow, and pitched into a gully between two rocks.
“Let them lay there for the present,” said Jerry. “In the morning I’ll take the scalps off. We’ll get bounty for them.”
Encouraged by the brightness of the fire, the boys crept up the slope, and looked at the picked bones of the deer, and at the wolves that the catamount had killed.
“Pretty clean work,” observed Hamp. “I don’t care to stay here long, though. The catamount may pounce on us at any minute. There’s the tree he jumped into.”
“But he’s not there now,” replied Jerry. “I think he’s had enough of this locality, and won’t trouble us any more. No danger of the wolves coming back, either.”
“There is, if the severe weather keeps up,” said Hamp, as they returned to the fire. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to cross the lake again, and do our hunting between Moosehead and Chesumcook. This neighborhood is too near Canada and the home of the wolves for me.”
“For me, too,” added Brick, uneasily.
“Well, I don’t suppose you fellows want to move to-night,” declared Jerry. “We can talk about it in the morning. I think I could sleep for twenty-four hours straight ahead now.”
“But how about the hole in the roof?” questioned Brick. “It won’t do to go to bed and leave that open. The catamount might jump down on us.”