ls, shining in the little looking glass near the
door, showing the rifles within easy reach in the corner near the bed;
the two sets of pistols in their hostlers on the table they had made; the
gleaming blades of their axes, beside the fire-place; the books Ree loved
so well, arranged on a board from the old cart, which did duty as a
mantel, and John's fife beside them; the frying-pan and their few dishes
on and in a little cupboard in the corner. It was sweet, too, to fall
asleep at last and dream of the present, past and future--enjoying the
perfect rest which the fatigue of honest, hard work by those possessed of
honest hearts must ever bring.

The boys were very tired this night, partly from the unusual exercise of
walking so far on snow-shoes, no doubt. But they slept soundly and were
early awake. Directly after breakfast they visited the scene of the fight
with the wolves. They little expected to find anything left of their
victims, excepting bones, but they greatly desired to find the knife
which had been Capt. Bowen's present.

Bones they did find--but nothing else. There was every evidence of a
ghastly feast having been eaten by the wolves and other animals during
the night. Even the skeletons of those which had been slaughtered, were
torn to pieces, and for rods around the snow was dyed crimson.

To cry over spilled milk was no part of Ree's disposition, and though he
deeply regretted the loss of his knife, he did not allow himself to be
dispirited, though little he thought how important a part in their
adventures the knife was yet to play.

In their walks about the woods at different times, Ree and John had
observed that there were many sugar maples near their cabin and had
agreed that they must make some sugar when spring came. That very
afternoon, therefore, they began preparations.

Blocks of wood, cut into lengths of about two feet, they hollowed out
with their axes, making troughs in which to catch the sap of maples. The
work was tedious and many a trough was split and spoiled when all but
completed, before they caught the knack of avoiding this by striking
curved strokes with their axes, and not letting the blades cut in deeply,
in line with the grain of the wood.

This work, and the making of spouts by punching the pith out of sumac
branches occupied several days. Not all their time could be given to it,
however, as traps must be visited and Indians given attention; for now
that the weather was b