ods, Pat?"

"Sure," replied Pat. "It's nothing when you're used to it. Most trappers
are on the trail by break of day. The days are all too short in winter,
anyway, especially when you've got a long trap line to work over. I
expect Alec is on the line now. He'll be trying to get through early
to-day so as to have things ready for us when we reach the cabin. It's
going to be a stiff pull to-day for you fellows, and the sooner we get
started the better."

As soon as breakfast was finished the toboggan was packed, the brush
piled once more in front of the lean-to and the fire put out by the
simple process of throwing snow on it. The cold light of the stars had
given way to the colder gray of the dawn as they once more slipped on
the shoes and hit the trail around Little Goose Pond. It was then that
the three novices realized that they were indeed tenderfeet. They had
not gone half a mile before it seemed as if every muscle from their
thighs down was making individual and vigorous protest. But they were
game, and if Pat guessed their feelings it was not from any word which
they let drop.

Gradually the stiffness wore off, and at the end of a couple of hours
they were traveling with some degree of comfort. Pat purposely set an
easy pace for the first few miles and he kept a watchful eye on Sparrer,
for whom he felt personally responsible. As a matter of fact the
youngster was standing it even better than the other two. For one thing,
he was considerably lighter, and his shoes bore him up better than was
the case with his companions. In places where the snow was packed he did
not sink in at all, whereas the others broke through slightly, and on
soft snow he did not begin to sink as far as they did. Of course this
meant far less strain on his muscles, and greater ease in walking.

As they rounded the end of the pond Pat pointed out the place where he
had been mistaken for a deer by two city boys and got a bullet through
his hat. A little beyond this point they saw the first sign of life
since they had entered the woods, the tracks of a hare or snow-shoe
rabbit, and with them other tracks which at first glance all but Pat
mistook for those of another rabbit.

"You fellows wait here a minute," said he and followed the trail into a
thicket of young hemlocks. A few minutes later he called to them to join
him. They found him at the farther side of the thicket. At his feet the
snow had been considerably disturbed, and there wer