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"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 pa.s.s through a patch of woods where the snow made the branches of the trees hang low. It was hard work to pa.s.s 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 fas.h.i.+on.
"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-cla.s.s," returned Mr. Dawson.
CHAPTER XI
A SERIOUS LOSS
Having brought their game around to the shed attached to the cabin, the boys were glad enough to rest before the generous fire, while Professor Jeffer proceeded to cut out some choice moose meat, having been requested by Barwell Dawson to do so.
"The moose is yours," Mr. Dawson said to the boys. "But I must have at least one steak, although it may be rather tough."
"You can have as much as you like," answered Chet. "I don't think Andy wants it all, and I am sure I don't."
Darkness was settling down once more around the cabin, when Andy chanced to think of the papers concerning the land claim in Michigan. He had placed them in an inside pocket of his jacket, and now he inserted his hand to bring them forth, to make certain that they were safe.
"Oh!" he cried, and his heart began to beat wildly.
"What's the matter?" queried Chet, who was near. "Hurt?"
"The papers!"
"What of them?"