"How's the wood supply?" asked Elmer, while preparations were going on looking to their having a generous supply of fresh venison for supper.

"Not so good as last night," replied Toby; "it's twice as hard to get, you see; but then, George has agreed to start in again later on, and pile up more stock. He certainly does swing that little hand-ax of yours to beat the band, Elmer."

"Did any of your people come from the South of Ireland, Toby?" demanded the said George; "because you've got the gift of gab down to a fine point, and know how to blarney a fellow first-class."

"But you did say you would chop a whole lot more wood," protested Toby.

"Sure I did," continued the other scout, "but it was agreed at the same time I'd spell you in the job, and bring in as much as you did. Now, since Elmer and Lil Artha have tramped so far, and lugged this splendid young buck all the way into the camp, the least the rest of us can do is to make sure of the fuel supply. And, Toby, I'm going to hold you to your word."

"Well, after we've dined perhaps I won't feel so weak as I do now, and then we'll see what's to be done," Toby acknowledged.

Elmer had made a pretty good job of cutting up the deer. It was not the first time he had had to undertake such a task; and besides, he had watched other hunters accomplish it frequently, up there in Canada on the farm and cattle range.

Before a great while the four chums were all busily engaged in cooking meat after various styles. Some choice pieces had been thrust into the fryingpan, with a couple of slices of bacon which Toby managed to resurrect from some hiding place or other, and from the appetizing odor that soon began to rise it was evident that they were going to have a great feast. Other "chunks" of meat were thrust on the ends of long and stout splinters of wood, and these were held out near the red ashes in certain places, where they would get in contact with the fierce heat, and begin to brown, hunter-style.

It might as well be confessed right here that in the end this last method of cookery did not appeal to the boys as much as the fryingpan style. Perhaps they did not know just how to go about it, as experience is needed to get the best results from anything; but in spite of their labor they found that while the meat cooked, and even burned on the outside, it was almost raw within. Still, hunger causes a camper to forgive such small faults as this; and as they started on the poorer supply to finish with that cooked in the skillet, there were few complaints.

All of them gorged so much that it became necessary for them to lie around and rest for some little time after the meal was over. Indeed Toby showed a desire to hug his blanket, and doze in the warmth of the fire, so that George had to urge him to remember the bargain they had made with each other, and start to collecting more wood.

Elmer soon joined in the labor, for he knew they would need all they were able to gather; and besides, he was so constituted that he could not bear to lie around when others were working, no matter how tired he might feel.

So Lil Artha, although he really believed he had earned his rest, not to be shamed by all this honest toil on the part of his three mates, also strolled forth, to return several times dragging some branch he had managed to break loose.

The collection of firewood was not near so formidable as on the preceding night but then as there was no storm in progress now they might get along fairly comfortably on what they managed to haul in.

"Lucky thing you put such a fine edge on the camp hatchet before starting on this trip, Elmer," George remarked, pausing in his chopping to recover his breath.

"I wouldn't think of starting anywhere without getting everything ready," replied the scout master. "If you look ahead, and be prepared, you'll ease things a whole lot most of the time. As there are no nails to strike in this wood, and every chopper is warned to keep clear of stones, that edge ought to hold good through the whole vacation time. And it's a great joy to see the steel eat into the wood like that camp hatchet does. Let me take a whirl at it again, George; you've done your share of the work in great shape."

So it would seem that despite George's failings he had many good points about him, and often expressed a desire to relieve a comrade who had begun to show evident signs of weariness. Perhaps by slow degrees he might be weaned from that exasperating habit of complaining, and forever doubting things.

All was quiet around them, not even the whispering of the night wind in the snow-laden branches of the pines being heard. Toby declared it seemed as solemn as a funeral to him, and that he did love the good old summer-time to be outdoors, while the crickets, katydids, frogs, and everything else kept up a friendly chorus, that helped a fellow to sleep. Now it was so "awfully still that you could almost hear yourself think!" he told the others, as they began to get their blankets ready for a night's rest.

Already one experience in bunking amidst the snow piles had given the boys a number of useful suggestions from which they meant to profit on this second occasion. The rubber ponchos were used, not as a curtain to shield them from the air, but under their blankets to separate them from the ground, and serve to keep the dampness away. The heat of the fire was apt to melt the surrounding snow to some extent; and the warmth of their bodies acted after a fashion in the same way; so those waterproof rubber blankets proved invaluable. They should always be taken by those who go to the woods, and will be found to be worth their weight in silver every time.

Taken in all that was not such a bad night for the boys. There was no wind, and Elmer managed to awaken frequently enough to keep the fire from going out; so that with the blessing of their warm blankets, which they wrapped closely about them, the scouts did not really suffer.

Everybody was very glad when dawn came along, dreary as the aspect might be. It made a wonderful difference in their feelings just to know that there was no longer any possibility of immediate starvation. George must have dreamed that some trouble had descended upon them, because the very first thing he did after crawling out of his blanket was to hurry over to where they had fastened the balance of the precious venison, encased in the hide of the deer, to the limb of a tree, and closely examine the pack; Elmer, who was watching him, with a smile on his face, heard the doubter say in a relieved tone:

"Shucks! it must have been a bad dream, after all; we did get a buck, and had a bully old supper last night, because here's the rest of the meat, as plain as anything. Must have eaten too much, and had the nightmare; but I'm glad it was only a dream, that's right. Yes, this is frozen fresh venison, as sure as my name's—"

"Doubting George!" sang out Lil Artha, who it seemed had also been watching and listening from behind the folds of his blanket; and even Toby thrust his grinning face in sight to add to the confusion of George.

They bustled around without any more delay, because the air was nipping cold, and of course they were furiously hungry again; boys always are when they wake up, especially when camping out, and during frosty weather.

Breakfast was cooked in great shape. It was a duplicate of the previous night's meal, but then what did that matter, when there was an abundance for all? Quantity and not so much quality was what pleased those four outdoor chums just then. There was a horrid vacuum to be filled, and they were more concerned about how this was to be accomplished than in a lengthy bill of fare.

After that came a consultation—Lil Artha called it a "council of war." They sat around the fire, which felt so good no one was in any great hurry to abandon it, and talked the matter dry from all sides. Every one gave expression to his opinion, and Elmer, acting as master of ceremonies, tried to extract all that was good and worth preserving from each proposition.

It was determined first of all to try firing their guns several times, to see if they could get any answer. Should Professor Caleb hear the shots he would be very apt to reply, and in that case they would have no difficulty in deciding as to what course to pursue.

Should this fail to bring about any result, they must make a start; and in the end it was determined to keep along the border of the marsh. That was most likely to be one of the places where the old trapper and wild animal photographer was apt to conduct most of his operations, and they would stand a chance of running across some sign of his presence.

So Lil Artha fired both barrels of his gun, with about five seconds coming in between; and then Elmer discharged one of the loads in his weapon, after waiting a like interval. In this way the required three shots were sent forth; and Elmer assured his comrades that this had always been reckoned a call for help everywhere, in the Far West, among African tangles, and even down in South American wilds; so that if Uncle Caleb were within hearing distance they would surely get a response.

All of them listened intently after the last shot. The wind had come up again with the sun, and was making various queer noises among the treetops; but still it would have been possible for them to have caught a shot, if such had sounded from any quarter near by.

"Nothing doing, seems like!" remarked George, dejectedly, for of course he was the very first one to get what Lil Artha called "cold feet," because there appeared to be no immediate response to their effort.

"Shall we try it once more, Elmer?" asked Lil Artha.

"Just a sheer waste of ammunition, and p'raps we'll need every bit we've fetched along," grumbled George.

The scout master, however, decided that it would be only right to give the scheme one more trial before utterly condemning it; so having replaced the empty shells he and the tall boy again sent out the three shots that would tell any who heard the signal that some one was in need of assistance.

There was no answer, though they listened eagerly, and once Toby started, under the impression that he had caught a faint hello; but as it was not repeated he concluded it may have been some distant owl giving vent to its disappointment at not getting a full meal during the period of darkness just passed.

"One thing we might take for granted after this," Elmer went on to say; "wind's in the wrong quarter to carry the sound of the shots to him. So we could judge from that our best course is to make against the wind. It would seem that we might have two chances of finding him that way, to one the other."

The others agreed with Elmer, for they could easily grasp his meaning; George was seen to shake his head, however, and it was evident that he did not have very much faith in such a thing as success coming to them. And yet if it did, George could be counted on to be one of the first to say that he always did believe they were bound to run across Uncle Caleb, sooner or later.

"Scouts are supposed always to be sure their fire is dead out before they leave a camp," remarked Lil Artha, as they trudged laboriously along, "but in this case I took notice that none of us seemed to bother our heads even a little bit over it, and in fact we left it crackling away right cheerily."

"Well, with a blanket of snow two feet deep on the ground," observed Toby, "I'd like to know how the woods could ever get afire this day. And that blaze was such a good friend to us I didn't have the heart to throw snow on the same. It'd seemed too much like calling a dog to you, patting him on the head after he came, wagging his tail in a friendly way, and then tying a tinpan to him, after which you gave him a nasty kick to start him yelping and running. But here's hoping we meet up with my uncle before the third night comes."

"I should say, yes," added Lil Artha; "if this sort of thing keeps on we'll be likely to spend all our midwinter vacation roaming around up here, and getting nowhere."

"And," Toby further complained, with a sad shake of the head, "we'd laid out to have such a bully good time at his cabin, learning all about trapping, and p'raps going out with him nights to use his flashlight contrivance, and get pictures of the little fur-bearing animals in their native haunts."

"Oh! it's going to be all right," announced Elmer, who as usual saw the bright side of the situation. "Something's sure to turn up to-day; and before another night we'll be toasting our feet in front of a fire indoors, with a bunk to crawl into when we're sleepy, and something else besides dry venison at meal times."

"Here, don't say a word against that same venison!" exclaimed Lil Artha; "it's been a life-saver, let me tell you. And to think I was ready to own up I'd missed my deer, only for you, Elmer. That taught me a lesson I'll never forget, believe me. After this I'll always look for signs when I've shot at game, and never just guess at things."

"Nothing like making sure, every time," remarked George.

"Guess you go by that motto, old fellow," Toby told him. "They don't fool you very often, do they; and never twice on the same racket?"

Along about the middle of the morning, after they had been making rather slow progress, and laboring heavily, Elmer was seen to betray sudden interest, and to quicken his footsteps. Then he turned, and beckoned wildly to them. As the other toilers reached his side the scout master pointed ahead of him, and remarked:

"There's something moving in the snow yonder, boys; look and see if you can make out what it is!"

At that they all stared very hard, and Lil Artha was the first to exclaim:

"Seems to be some sort of small animal switching around like it might be caught in a trap, Elmer!"

"Yes," added Toby, "I saw it jump up then, and whatever it is the thing looks a sort of silver gray or black. There, didn't you see again? Elmer, do you know what it can be?"

"Somebody, and perhaps Uncle Caleb, has planted a trap right here, and a fox is caught in the same by its leg!" came the ready reply.

"A fox, did you say!" echoed Lil Artha; "why, Elmer, none of us ever saw a fox of that color before. Every one I've ever set eyes on was either gray or red."

"Let's step up closer," the scout master remarked, "and we'll be able to tell more about it."

As the four boys continued to advance the little animal struggled harder than ever to break away, but without success. It was undoubtedly a good-sized fox, for they could not mistake that bushy tail, and the sharp nose as well as shrewd face. It showed its white teeth quite savagely as they drew nearer.

"Well, it is a fox all right," Lil Artha admitted, "though different from any I ever saw in the woods, or even in a menagerie."

"A good reason for that," Elmer told him, quietly; "such a silver fox is rare, and too costly for showmen to keep, as a rule. A red fox may be worth all the way from five to thirty dollars, but from what I've read about the value of furs, the pelt of a genuine silver fox sometimes brings more than fifteen hundred dollars, even in its raw state."

"Gee whiz! you don't tell me?" exclaimed George, looking astounded; and of course he did not believe what Elmer was saying, because it sounded too incredible for him to swallow.

"Oh! I've read something about these black foxes, come to think of it," Lil Artha admitted, "and so this is one, is it? Well, Uncle Caleb must have known he was around, and set this trap on purpose to get him."

"Yes, that's about the size of it," added Toby, "because I happen to know that as a rule he never bothers trying to trap any of the little animals up around this section. He used to, just to pass the winters away, but when he got interested in photography he said he found ten times as much pleasure in creeping up on them, and shooting with a camera, to anything he had ever done before with a gun. Fact is, he seldom uses his gun except to get an occasional deer, some partridge or a rabbit to serve him as fresh meat."

Elmer bent over a little closer, and examined the condition of affairs.

"We'll have to knock that fox gently on the head, I guess," he remarked. "You can see that the trap has cut deeply into his leg, and if he was let alone another hour or two he would be likely to gnaw that paw off in order to get free. They often do this. You see the cruel jaws of the trap mutilate their leg, and pain so much when they struggle that in desperation they bite at it until they get away; and after that a three-legged fox is found roaming the woods. Besides, it would be a shame for Uncle Caleb to lose that splendid prize."

"I guess you're about right, Elmer," Lil Artha observed, "and so we leave it to you to put the poor little fellow out of his misery. It's been a tough thing on him because Nature gave him a silver black coat. If he'd been an ordinary red fox Uncle Caleb might never have bothered setting this trap, and he could have gone right along making his suppers off partridges and such nice things, or else chickens belonging to any farmers inside of twenty miles, if there are any. I'll hold your gun while you do the job, Elmer, because I don't reckon you'd want to spoil a fifteen hundred dollar pelt by riddling the same with bird shot."