BRINGING IN SOME GAME
The snowstorm proved such a heavy one that for three days the party at
Professor Jeffer's cabin were completely stormbound. Once Andy and Chet
went out--in an endeavor to bring the dead moose in, but were unable to
accomplish their object.
During the time spent at the cabin, the boys became very well acquainted
with Barwell Dawson, and found the hunter and explorer a person very
much to their liking. Although he was rich and well educated, he did not
act as if he considered himself above them. He took a lively interest in
all they had to tell, and knew how to "draw them out," so that, almost
before he knew it, Andy had related the details of his troubles with his
shiftless Uncle Si and with the mysterious Mr. A. Q. Hopton.
"More than likely that fellow, Hopton, will bear close watching," said
Barwell Dawson. "If he is a sharper--and it looks as if he might be--he
will try to swindle both you and your uncle. It was very unwise for your
uncle to try to do business with him without seeing a lawyer."
"Uncle Si wanted to get the money without my knowing it," answered Andy,
bitterly. He was glad to open his heart to somebody who could understand
him.
"I believe you--and that is not to your uncle's credit. You say he is
shiftless and lazy?"
"Very--and everybody around here knows it."
"Then he is not fit to be your guardian."
"I don't believe he is, legally. He just said he was going to be, that's
all."
"Well, that doesn't make him so," answered the hunter, with a grim
smile.
With Andy he went over the papers the boy had brought from home. They
seemed to prove that the lad's father owned a divided interest in a
large tract of timber in the upper portion of Michigan. The papers had
evidently been drawn up by somebody who knew very little about legal
matters, and the phraseology was highly perplexing. After poring over
them for an hour, and asking Professor Jeffer's advice, Barwell Dawson
shook his head slowly.
"I think it is an honest claim, and in your father's favor," he said.
"But it will take a skillful lawyer to unravel it. Certainly your father
bought something, and paid for it, for here are the words, 'one thousand
dollars, the receipt of which from Andrew S. Graham is hereby admitted.'
The writer meant 'acknowledged,' but I guess 'admitted' is good enough."
"I was going to take it to a lawyer in Lodgeport."
"Is he a reliable man, Andy?"
"I don't know--I suppose so."
"Well, supposing you let me look into this matter with you? I am in no
hurry to get away from these parts, and I feel that you ought to let me
do something in return for what you and Chet did for me."
"I'll be very glad to have your help, Mr. Dawson--if you can spare the
time."
"I hope the claim proves of value--for I take you to be the kind of a lad
who deserves to get along," said Barwell Dawson, smiling.
During the time spent in the cabin, Barwell Dawson and Professor Jeffer
discussed the trip to the far north in many details, and the hunter even
traced out an imaginary route on one of the scientist's maps. Both men
were equally enthusiastic, and after Mr. Dawson had asked the professor
some more questions about himself, he at last consented that the latter
should become one of the exploring party.
"But remember," he said, impressively; "if you suffer great hardships or
lose your life, nobody must blame me."
"Trust me; no one will be blamed but myself," answered Professor Jeffer,
with equal gravity. Then his face beamed. "It will be a wonderful trip,
wonderful! And we shall see so many new things,--make so many interesting
discoveries! I shall take along a set of the best instruments available,
and make all sorts of observations. Such a record alone will be worth
all it costs to get it."
"I do not doubt it, Professor."
"And then the fame--think of it, the fame! Why, sir, if we succeed in
gaining the North Pole,--or even if we succeed in going above Commander
Peary's highest mark, latitude 87 deg. 6',--it will be something for the
entire civilized world to know."
"True."
"From today on I shall go into the hardest kind of training," continued
Professor Jeffer. "I shall fit myself to withstand the most intense
hunger and the most intense cold. It is the only way."
"It is certainly a good idea," answered Barwell Dawson. "It won't do to
go up north 'soft,' as they call it."
On the morning of the fourth day it cleared, and Andy and Chet decided
to go out once more after the moose. Mr. Dawson's ankle was now well,
but he did not want to try walking a long distance on it just yet.
"You can get your game today," he said, "and we can start for Lodgeport
tomorrow. There I'll see that lawyer for Andy, and then I'll try to
return to my camp back of Moose Ridge, and see what the storm did to
it."
"If you want me to, I'll go back to the Ridge with you," said Chet. "I
haven't anything else to do, now that I can't get work at one of the
lumber camps."
"Very well, I'll be glad of your company."
Andy and Chet were soon on their way to where the latter had left the
moose. Fortunately they had been able to borrow snow-shoes from
Professor Jeffer, who owned several pairs. Both lads knew how to use the
articles, and glided over the newly fallen snow with ease.
"Just imagine we were bound for the North Pole!" cried Andy. "Wouldn't
it be great!"
"I'd like to look for my father, Andy," and Chet's face clouded.
"Oh, Chet, I'm sorry I spoke--I didn't want to remind you----"
"Oh, it's all right, Andy. If I don't hear from my father soon, I'd like
first-rate to go north with Mr. Dawson's expedition."
"I don't think he'd want to bother with boys."
"We are not so very young. And both of us know how to rough it--and we
are pretty good shots, too."
"I guess you've been thinking about it pretty strongly."
"Haven't you?"
"Yes, I have. Mr. Dawson seems to be such a splendid man, the trip ought
to be fine, even if the North Pole wasn't reached."
"Just my idea. We would do lots of hunting, and riding behind the
Esquimaux dogs. Just think of being on a sledge with eight or ten dogs
to pull you over the ice and snow!"
"And the thermometer 50 deg. below zero! Don't forget it is fearfully cold
up there."
"Well, it's mighty cold here, sometimes. Anyway, I'd like to go--if he'd
take me."
"Same here--but he doesn't want boys, he wants men, and tough ones, too."
So the talk ran on, as the boys made their way to the clump of spruces
where Chet had had his adventure. At a distance they saw the stick, with
the handkerchief, deep in the snow.
"Well, there is your landmark, anyway," said Andy. "I hope nobody
disturbed the game."
"It looks all right," answered his chum. "But of course the snow would
cover any tracks, even if the game was disturbed."
With eager hands they uncovered the mound, and soon brought to light the
big moose with his wide-spreading antlers.
"Certainly a dandy!" cried Andy, as he surveyed the game. "You can be
thankful he didn't hit you before you reached the tree, Chet. He would
have smashed you into a jelly."
"Well, as it was, he caused Mr. Dawson a bad fall."
The boys went back to the trees, and after a careful inspection, took a
hatchet and cut a long branch for a drag. On this they bound the deer,
and then started on the return to Professor Jeffer's cabin, hauling
their load behind them.
It was hard work to make progress through the deep snow, and they had to
rest several times to catch their breath.
"I think we had better take the long way around," said Chet, after half
the distance had been covered. "We can't very well get up the hill this
side of the cabin, and, besides, there is a bad gully to cross this side
of the brook."
"You show the way," answered his chum. "You know these parts a little
better than I do."
By the new route they had to pass through a patch of woods where the
snow made the branches of the trees hang low. It was hard work to pass
between some of the trees, and once it looked as if they would have to
turn back.
"We are earning this meat," was Andy's comment, as he paused to pick up
the cap that a branch had swept from his head.
"Looks like it," answered Chet, laconically.
"I guess we should have waited until the weather was better."
Now, as it chanced, Chet was as tired as Andy, and consequently his
quick temper showed itself.
"You didn't have to come for the moose if you didn't want to," he cried,
quickly.
"Oh, I'm not complaining, Chet."
"It's the same thing."
"Not at all--and there is no cause for you to get mad about it."
"Well, then, don't find fault. I'm pulling as hard on this load as you."
"I know it. We made a mistake to come this way, I am afraid."
"Oh, yes, that's you,--blame that on me, too." Chet now looked thoroughly
angry. "I've a good mind to leave the old moose where he is." And he let
go of the branch on which the game rested.
"Chet!"
Andy uttered the name reproachfully, and gazed fearlessly into his
chum's eyes. There was an awkward pause. Then the face of the
quick-tempered youth grew red.
"Well, I don't care----" he began, and took hold of the drag again.
"Yes, you do care,--and I care, too. We can't afford to quarrel, and all
over nothing. Come on, we'll get through somehow," said Andy.
"Guess I said too much," murmured Chet, and began to haul on the load as
if his life depended upon it. "I thought----Oh, Andy, there's a shot for
us!"
The quick-tempered lad, who was equally quick-eyed, stopped and pointed
to a tree some distance on their right. Andy saw something move, but
could not make out what it was.
"Partridge," announced his companion, and swung his gun around. "I'm
going to take a shot when they go up."
He glided over the snow, and Andy came behind him. Then up went four
partridge with a whirr that would have startled one not accustomed to
the sound. Bang! went Chet's gun, and bang! came the report of Andy's
immediately after. Two of the partridges came fluttering down, while the
two others circled around in a helpless, dazed fashion.
"We must get those, too!" cried Chet, and blazed away again, and then
Andy took another shot. Down came the game, and the boys glided forward
to secure the prizes. The partridges were of good size, and plump, and
the lads gazed at them and turned them over in deep satisfaction.
"We'll prove to Mr. Dawson that we can hunt," cried Chet. His recent ill
humor had completely disappeared.
In getting back to where they had left the moose, Andy struck an icy
rock and rolled over and over in the snow. Chet was compelled to laugh,
but quickly subsided, thinking his chum might be angry. But though he
had hard work to get up and secure the game he had been carrying, Andy
retained his peace of mind.
"Fortune of war," he said, as he dug the loose snow from his clothing.
"Birr! but it's cold."
"Want to go to the North Pole now?" said Chet, quizzically.
"This minute, if I had the chance," was the quick reply.
The partridges were tied on top of the moose, and once again the two
lads headed for the cabin. Soon they came in sight of the place, and set
up a loud whistling, which brought the two men to the door.
"A fine moose!" cried Barwell Dawson. "And fine partridge, too."
"Don't you think we are pretty fair hunters?" asked Chet.
"First-class," returned Mr. Dawson.