With Trapper Jim in the North Woods Part 7

Toby volunteered to do this, although he had to handle the thing carefully so as not to get burned.

"I'll go after another bucket of water," remarked Max; "and I'd advise our practical joker here to jump out of those wet duds and get into some dry ones in a hurry."

Bandy-legs, looking disgusted and rather silly, was beginning to s.h.i.+ver, as the door, which now stood open to ventilate the cabin, allowed the chilly air of approaching evening to enter.

"Guess I will," he remarked; "'cause I've got that wood to gather."

"You bet you have," declared Steve; "we don't let you off from that job.

And when you've got your hand in, we'll expect you to take care of the fuel business right along, see?"

"See you in Guinea first," muttered Bandy-legs, bristling up.

They could never coax him to tell what he had really intended doing at the time his treacherous heels slipped on the roof, and he fell down the big opening through which the smoke escaped.

Still, no one needed explanations. The fact of his lowering the old abandoned pelt, bundled up so as to look as much like a live bobcat as possible, spoke for itself.

Somehow or other this trip seemed to be particularly hard on practical jokers. Owen gravely remarked that all who were ordinarily given to playing pranks would take notice.

"Needn't look at me that way when you say that," remarked Steve. "I used to be a great hand for jokes, but never again. I've reformed, I have."

"Y-y-yes, like f-f-fun you have," scoffed Toby, who knew Steve "like a book," and had no faith in his professed change of heart.

After a while things looked comfortable again.

The fire burned cheerily on the hearth and Jim's kettle, hanging from an iron bar that could be let down, steamed and bubbled, and began sending out appetizing odors that even Steve sniffed with less resentment than he had antic.i.p.ated.

"What d'ye think of it now, Steve?" asked Uncle Jim.

"Huh, if you mean the smell, why, it ain't so very bad," replied the boy.

"Fact is, makes me think of rabbit stew, some."

"Beats any rabbit you ever ate; just wait," prophesied the trapper, who knew that once Steve overcame his prejudice he would admit as much himself.

Bandy-legs had finished dressing, and as he lacked certain garments to complete his attire, the other boys temporarily helped him out. When his own were dry he would return the borrowed articles.

As though desirous of doing penance because of his wretched failure as a prank player, Bandy-legs did work, bringing wood to the outside of the cabin with unwonted zeal.

Indeed, the trapper finally had to stop him.

"Looks like you meant to swamp us with firewood, son," he remarked, surveying the pile that was heaped up against the side of the cabin.

"Huh, thought I'd get enough while I was about it," Bandy-legs replied.

"Well, you've done yourself proud, my boy, and I reckon I'd stop now.

We've got all we can use till to-morrow night. And I don't like too big a stack against the cabin wall. A spark from the chimney might set her going, and I'd hate to be burned out."

The supper was a success.

Of course they had plenty of other things to eat besides Steve's pet dish. The boys made sure of this, not fancying the idea of having to depend upon the musquash alone.

All of them but Steve tasted it and declared it fine. He could not be coaxed to even sample it at the time; but Old Jim believed Steve would come around in time.

"It's just because these plump little critters are so common," he remarked, with a smile of satisfaction, as he emptied the balance of the stew into his own pannikin. "If they cost four dollars each, now, and only the millionaires could buy 'em, you'd think they beat anything going."

"Yes," said bookworm Owen, "that's the way it was with diamond-back terrapin. Time was in Virginia and North Carolina, yes, in Maryland, too, when a man hired out to a planter along the coast, he had it entered in the contract that he was not to be fed on terrapin. They were looked on at that time as common stuff. To-day the rich pay five dollars apiece for decent-sized little fellows. You're right, Uncle Jim, it makes a lot of difference."

Talking in this strain, and picking up useful as well as interesting information from time to time, as Trapper Jim explained things to the boys who were his guests, the evening pa.s.sed pleasantly away.

Even Bandy-legs seemed to forget his recent troubles part of the time.

Max, seeing him rub various portions of his body tenderly, asked whether he had really been burned. And when the baffled joker was induced to show several red marks, Max insisted on applying a soothing lotion, which took out much of the pain.

It was an evening long to be remembered by the boys. Steve's turn to occupy the extra bunk had come around, and he felt in high feather in consequence, while the other boys had to select their places on the floor.

But everyone seemed in the best of humor, and the soft furs promised to make just as good beds as they could wish.

When Max stepped out just before retiring to see how the weather promised for the morrow, he found a clear sky, the moon just peeping into view, and a wholesome tang in the air.

And as Max stood listening to the far-away mournful call of an owl to its mate, and noted the flood of soft moonlight, it was no wonder he said to himself:

"I tell you it's good to be here!"

CHAPTER VI

STEVE STARTS GAME.

"Wish you fellows luck!" said Owen.

It was the next morning. Breakfast had been dispatched, and there was still a distinct odor of bacon and coffee in the air.

All of them were getting ready for the duties laid out for the day; and this remark of Owen's had been intended for Max and Steve.

Eager to indulge in a hunt, with the dim prospect of bringing home a fine deer, Steve had begged Trapper Jim to let him go. This was on the evening before, while they sat by the blazing fire in the cabin.

Now Old Jim had, of course, sized up impulsive Steve pretty well before now. He liked the boy very much, for he knew Steve was warm-hearted and a true comrade. But he hardly fancied having so impatient a lad go off by himself.

Accordingly, he had told Steve that if he could get Max to keep him company on a little hunt, he would post them with regard to where they were most likely to run across game.

And Max had only too gladly agreed.

He had a new magazine 30-30 repeating rifle. It was a small bore, but by using the soft-nosed bullets that mushroom out upon striking even the flesh of an animal, it would prove just as powerful as a heavier gun.

And Max was secretly just wild to try it on a deer, though he did not show his feelings the same way Steve would have done.

Both boys were ready to start out when the others left to make a round of the traps. They had received final instructions from Trapper Jim.