"I guess he's not going to let his legs get
stiff," he cried. "I'm as stiff as an old mule this morning. What's to
do to-day?"

"We'll locate some timber for boat-building," said his uncle, "and get
our traps into shape, and then rest. There is no use in killing
ourselves all at once. We've got a matter of five hundred miles to
journey yet."

"If we go up into the timber, I suppose we can try our hand at shooting
something if anything turns up," said Randy.

"Certainly; shoot all the game you can, boys. We'll want it to help eke
out our stores."

There were numerous odds and ends to do about the camp, and it was not
until after dinner that they started into the timber to select some wood
which might be used in boat-building. It was now that the boys'
knowledge of timber stood them in good stead; and it took but a short
while to pick out a tree which was close-grained and comparatively free
from knots. They had brought their axes with them, and had the tree down
in short order. Then they lopped off the branches and cut off the top,
and left it in the sun to dry out as much as possible before attacking
it with their boat-building tools.

This accomplished, Earl and Randy set off, the former with the shot-gun
and the other with his pistol, to stir up whatever might be around in
the way of game. They followed the edge of the cliff to where it sloped
down to the lake shore.

Presently Earl thought he saw something in the brush along the water
front, and, taking up a half-decayed stick, he threw it at the spot. At
once there was a squawk, and half a dozen wild geese arose in the air.
Bang! went the shot-gun, and crack! went Randy's pistol, and three of
the geese were seen to throw back their heads and sink.

"We hit 'em!" cried Randy, and ran down, followed by his brother. Two of
the fowls were dead, and the other was speedily put out of its misery by
Earl with a blow from the gun-stock. They had been cautioned not to
waste their ammunition, so had not ventured a second round at the
balance of the flock.

"These ought to make good eating," observed Randy, as he picked up the
game. "That is, if they don't taste too fishy. Here is my bullet hole,
right through the neck. You killed the other two."

With the dead geese over their shoulders, they continued their hunt for
game, and presently stirred up a number of wild birds, at which Earl
blazed away, bringing down five. The birds were small and hardly worth
the troub