Guns and Snowshoes; Or, the Winter Outing of the Young Hunters Part 7

"Good for you!" shouted Giant. "I hope you gave him something to remember."

"I wonder if we will have trouble with that crowd during the present outing," mused Snap after a pause.

"I don't think they are going camping," answered Whopper. "They haven't got enough real sporting blood in them."

After that the topic of conversation quickly changed, as they looked over their things for the last time, to make certain that everything was there.

The boys carried a good supply of clothing, including extra underwear and extra pairs of boots. Each had a pair of warm blankets and also a rubber sheet, to be used in case of sudden rain.

The stores were made up of a variety of things, including flour, bacon, beans, some canned goods, and coffee, chocolate, sugar, salt, pepper and condensed milk. They had their old "nest" of pans and kettles, tin cups and plates, and likewise enough knives, forks and spoons to go around. In a waterproof case were several boxes of matches, and they also had along an acetylene bicycle lamp, which they thought they might use in bringing down game at night, and an axe and a hatchet.

All of the young sportsmen were armed with shotguns and they also took along Mr. Dodge's rifle, as they had done before, and the trusty pistol belonging to Doctor Reed. Their snowshoes were placed on the tops of the loads, and they put on their well-sharpened skates as soon as the river front was reached.

"Good-bye to Fairview!" cried Shep, when all was in readiness for the start.

"Good-bye, boys, and the best of luck for you!" shouted Doctor Reed, who had driven down in his sleigh, to see them off.

"Don't let the bears eat you up!" called out a riverman who stood on the dock.

"No danger of that," answered Snap.

And then with a shout and the waving of caps, the members of the Fairview Gun Club set off on their winter outing, never dreaming of the many surprises and perils which awaited them.

CHAPTER VI

CHICKENS AND MINCE PIE

It was a perfect winter day, with a dull golden glow in the sky and only a faint breeze from the north blowing. On the ground the snow lay to the depth of ten inches or a foot, but the wind of the week past had almost cleared the ice on the river. Here and there were long ridges of snow across the glare, but that was all.

The young hunters had tied long ropes to the sleds, and while Whopper and Shep pulled one turnout, Snap and Giant dragged the other. The sleds had polished runners, and slid over the river surface so easily that pulling was more sport than work.

The course was down the river towards Lake Cameron, and in a very few minutes the town neighborhood was left behind. On either side of the frozen stream were trees and bushes, with here and there a cleared patch or an orchard. Some boys accompanied them a short distance, but then these dropped back, and our four young friends were left to themselves.

"Do you remember how we stopped at Pop Lundy's orchard when we went to the camp in the rowboat?" observed Shep.

"Yes, and how he caught us and then got us to go after the negro who stole the watch," put in Whopper.

"I shouldn't mind having some of his apples now," said Giant. "We ought to have taken apples along."

"There is the orchard now," cried Snap. "But there are no apples to be had this time of year."

"As if we would dare to take them," said Whopper, with a wink of his eye.

As they neared the spot where the orchard ran down to the river sh.o.r.e they heard the sound of an axe and saw Simon Lundy chopping down an old apple tree for firewood. The man was a very close-fisted farmer and was rarely known to do a charitable act.

"How are you, Mr. Lundy!" called out Snap, as he brought one of the sleds to a halt.

"How do ye do," grunted the farmer, and then gave a closer look. "Oh, so it's you fellers ag'in, hey? Goin' campin' once more?

"We are."

"How are your apples getting along?" asked Shep, also halting.

"Didn't have sech a big crop as I expected."

"Thought you might spare us a few," suggested Whopper. "Of course we'll pay for them, if you wish."

"Well, there hain't much profit in givin' apples away," said Simon Lundy, pursing up his thin lips. "Got some putty good golden russets left. How many do ye want?"

"Give us all you can spare for a quarter," said Shep, who had been chosen treasurer of the club for the outing.

Simon Lundy led the way to his barn, and there the boys picked out some russets and some greenings. While this was going on Mrs. Lundy came from the house to see the visitors.

"Why, if it ain't them same boys as helped to catch that n.i.g.g.e.r!" she cried. "Want some apples, hey? Give 'em all they want, Simon. They deserve 'em."

"I was a--er--a--sellin' them the apples," answered the husband, lamely, and growing a bit red in the face.

"What! Simon Lundy, ain't ye ashamed! You shan't take a cent from 'em, not a cent! Why, the idee!"

"All right, all right, if you say so," said the farmer hastily.

"I do say so." Mrs. Lundy turned to the young hunters. "Where be you a-goin?"

"We are going camping," answered Snap. "At the same place we were last summer."

"Ain't you afraid o' being frizz to death?"

"Oh, I think we can stand it."

"What have ye took along to eat?"

Snap told her and she shrugged her shoulders.

"Ye ought to have brung more, boys. Now, I've jest been a-makin' some mince pies. Wouldn't ye like one o' them?"

"Yes, indeed!" shouted Whopper, who had a weakness for that dainty. "I can eat mince pie in the middle of my sleep."

"Then you shall have the biggest pie o' the lot," said Mrs. Lundy.

"And, Simon," she added, to her husband, "you jest kill a couple o'

fat chickens fer 'em. Maybe they won't find no game the first day they be in camp, an' they ought to have some kind o' meat."

"It's drefful expensive!" groaned Simon Lundy.

"Shucks! These boys did us a real service, an' want 'em to know we appreciate it," answered Mrs. Lundy briskly.