Chapter 26. Back to the Cabin
The far end of the long swamp the stream emerged, now much
larger, and the trappers kept on with their work. When night
fell they had completed fifty traps, all told, and again they
camped without shelter overhead.
Next day Skookum was so much worse that they began to fear for
his life. He had eaten nothing since the sad encounter. He
could drink a little, so Rolf made a pot of soup, and when it was
cool the poor doggie managed to swallow some of the liquid after
half an hour's patient endeavour.
They were now on the home line; from a hill top they got a
distant view of their lake, though it was at least five miles
away. Down the creek they went, still making their deadfalls at
likely places and still seeing game tracks at the muddy spots.
The creek came at length to an extensive, open, hardwood bush,
and here it was joined by another stream that came from the
south, the two making a small river. From then on they seemed in
a land of game; trails of deer were seen on the ground
everywhere, and every few minutes they started one or two deer.
The shady oak wood itself was flanked and varied with dense cedar
swamps such as the deer love to winter in, and after they had
tramped through two miles of it, the Indian said, "Good! now we
know where to come in winter when we need meat.
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