look to Paul. Instead, it
bore certain aspects of home, and he forgot all about the mummies in the
trees, which were their protection from invasion.

"It's good to get back again," he said.

They landed on the island, hid the canoe, and went straight to the hollow,
finding everything there absolutely undisturbed.

"We'll sleep to-night," said Henry, "and in the morning we'll plan."

Paul noticed, when he rose early the next day, that the whole earth was
silver with frost, and he felt they were particularly fortunate in having
found some sort of shelter. The others shared his satisfaction, and they
worked all day, enlarging the hut, and strengthening it against the wind
and cold with more bark and brush. At night Henry and Ross took the canoe,
went to the mainland, and came back with a deer. The next day Jim Hart and
Shif'less Sol were busy drying the venison, and Paul spent his time
fishing with considerable success.

Several days passed thus, and they accumulated more meat and more skins.
The latter were particularly valuable for warmth. Paul draped them about
their hut, arranging them with an artistic eye, while Jim Hart and
Shif'less Sol, with a similar satisfaction, watched their larder grow.

"This is the finest winter camp in all the wilderness," said Shif'less
Sol.

"You couldn't beat it," said Jim Hart.

These were happy days to Paul. Knowing now that a message had been sent
hack to Wareville, he was released from worry over the possible anxiety of
his people on his account, and he was living a life brimful of interest.
Everyone fell almost unconsciously into his place. Henry Ware, Ross, and
Shif'less Sol scouted and hunted far and wide, and Paul and Jim Hart were
fishermen, house builders, and, as Paul called it, "decorators."

The hut in the hollow began to have a cozy look. Henry and Ross brought in
three buffalo skins, which Jim promptly tanned, and which Paul then used
as wall coverings. Wolfskins, deerskins, and one beautiful panther hide
were spread upon the floor. This floor was made mainly of boughs, broken
up fine, and dead leaves, but it did not admit water, and the furs and
skins were warm. In one corner of the place grew up a store of dried
venison and buffalo meat, over which Jim Hart watched jealously.

All of the cooking was done at night, but in the open, in a kind of rude
oven that Jim Hart built of loose stones, and never did food taste better
in the mouth of a hungry youth than it d