The snow beat down upon them so when they were outside of the shelter that the little girls could scarcely get their breath. Dot clung to Tess’ hand and bleated a few complaining words. But the strange boy said sharply:

“Don’t be blubbering. We’ll be all right in a minute. I want to hunt for something around here. That’s what I come out of the cave for.”

“Am not blubbering!” muttered Dot, quite indignant. “But this old snow—”

“Oh, I’ve got it!” shouted the strange boy, leaping ahead through the snow with great vigor. “Come on! Don’t lose sight of me.”

“You bet we won’t,” said Sammy, urging Tess and Dot on ahead of him and dragging the sled after.

“What is it?” asked Tess, curiously.

“A trap,” said the other.

“Oh!”

“What kind of a trap?” asked the eager Sammy.

“Rabbit trap. Box trap. Rafe and I brought it down here with us and set it this morning. I put a handful of corn in it and I saw rabbit tracks all about just before it began to snow so hard. Here it is.”

The speaker had knelt down in the snow and was uncovering some long, narrow object with his hands.

“It’s sprung, anyway. You see, the door’s dropped,” he said. “The rabbit pokes right in after the corn, and when he begins to eat the bait clear at the end of the box, he trips the trigger and the door falls. Yes! He’s here!”

“Oh, Je-ru-sa-lem! A real rabbit?” gasped Sammy Pinkney.

“A poor little bunny?” murmured Tess, her tender heart at once disturbed at the thought of the trapped animal.

“Huh! If we are snowed up in that cave for a week or so,” said the boy called Rowdy, “you’ll be mighty glad I caught this rabbit.”

He had lifted the door and thrust in his left hand to seize the animal.

“Oh! Oh!” squealed Dot. “Won’t it bite you?”

“It doesn’t bite with its hind legs,” said Rowdy with scorn. “Ah! I got him.”

He drew forth the rabbit, kicking and squirming. The little mouse-like cry the poor beast made sounded very pitiful to Tess. She murmured:

“Oh, don’t hurt him!”

“Je-ru-sa-lem!” exclaimed Sammy to Rowdy. “Ain’t girls the worst ever?”

“Huh!” said the strange boy, suddenly glaring at Sammy Pinkney, “what do you know about girls?”

He was a dark boy, with ragged black hair that had evidently been sheared off roughly by an amateur barber. He was dressed warmly and in good clothes. He wore leggings that came up to his hips. He was bigger, and must have been older than Sammy.

He stood up now, with the kicking rabbit held by the hind legs. The trapped animal was fat and was of good size.

“Oh! Oh!” cried Dot. “He’ll get away from you.”

“Like fun he will.”

“How are you going to kill him?” Sammy, the practical, asked.

“Break its neck,” was the prompt reply.

“Oh! How awful!” gasped Tess. “Won’t it hurt him?”

“It won’t know anything about it,” said Rowdy.

He was already holding the rabbit away from him almost at arm’s length and poised his right hand, edge out, for the blow that was to finish the creature. Sharp and quick was the blow, the outer edge of the boy’s hand striking across the back of the rabbit’s neck just at the base of the brain. The vertebra was snapped in this way and the creature instantly killed—a merciful and sudden death. The rabbit kicked but once, and then was still.

“Oh! Oh!” murmured Tess.

“Oh, don’t worry,” said Rowdy. “Ike M’Graw showed me how to do that.”

“Oh!” cried Dot. “We know Mr. Ike M’Graw—so we do.”

“How did you come to know him?” demanded Rowdy, quickly and suspiciously, it seemed. “He isn’t at home now.”

“Yes, he is,” said Sammy. “He was up at Red Deer Lodge last night and he was there again this morning.”

“Oh!” ejaculated Rowdy, standing and holding the rabbit as though the information gave him considerable mental disturbance. “I—I thought he’d gone away for good.”

Then he turned suddenly and plunged into the drifting snow. “Come on!” he exclaimed again. “This snow is drifting awfully.”

Sammy drove the little girls ahead of him again. “Aw, go on!” he muttered. “He’s all right. He’s got some kind of a hide-out.”

“I don’t believe I like that Rowdy,” said Tess softly. “He—he’s real cruel. All boys are, I s’pose.”

“They have to be,” returned Sammy.

“Why?” demanded Tess, in wonder.

“’Cause girls are such softies,” declared the impolite Sammy.

They plunged ahead, wading far above their waists now. Behind the trees the hillside rose abruptly. It towered so above their heads in the snow that the children were almost scared. Suppose that hill of snow should tumble right down on top of them!

“Goodness!” exclaimed Tess, with some exasperation. “Where is your old cave?”

“Come on,” said Rowdy, patiently. “It’s here somewhere. But the old snow—Ye-e—yi, yi!” he suddenly yelled.

Faintly there came an answering voice—half smothered, wholly eerie sounding.

“Oh! Who’s that?” demanded Sammy.

“Him,” said Rowdy shortly.

“Then don’t you live alone?” Tess demanded.

“I have my brother with me,” said Rowdy, plunging on to the right.

The snow beat into their faces and eyes, almost blinding them and wholly stopping their chatter. Above their heads the huge trees rocked, limbs writhing as though they were alive and in pain. And from these writhing limbs the snow was shaken down in avalanches.

One great blob of snow fell square on Sammy, trudging on behind the procession, and he went down with a howl like a wolf, buried to his ears.

“Oh, Sammy! Sammy!” shrieked Tess, above the wind. “Are you hurt?”

“I—I’m smothered!” groaned the boy, struggling to get out of the heap of snow. “Hey, you Rowdy! Get us out of this, or we’ll be buried and lost.”

“Come on!” sang out the bigger boy from up ahead. “O-ee! Rafe!” he shouted.

A figure appeared before them—the figure of a boy not much bigger than Rowdy.

“What have you there?” a hoarse voice demanded.

“A rabbit.”

“I mean who are those behind you?” and the hoarse voice was very tart now.

“A couple of girls and a boy,” said Rowdy. “I picked ’em up back there by the trap.”

“Well! But we don’t keep a hotel,” said the second boy.

“Hush!” commanded Rowdy. “Where are your manners? And they come from the Lodge,” he added.

“How are we going to feed so many people?” was the rather selfish demand of the second boy from the cave.

“Mercy! you’re a regular pig, Rafe,” exclaimed Rowdy. “Go on. Take this rabbit. I’ll help the little girl. She’s almost done for.”

Dot Kenway really was breathless and almost exhausted. She was glad to be taken in the strong arms of Rowdy. He staggered along behind the one called Rafe, and so came to an opening behind a bowlder which seemed to have been rolled by nature against the hillside.

The hole was sheltered from the direct effect of the wind that was drifting the snow in a huge mound against the bowlder. Rafe, with the rabbit, dived first into the hole. Rowdy followed, with Dot in his arms.

“Oh! Oh!” cried the littlest girl with delight. “Here’s a fire.”

“Isn’t that splendid?” demanded Tess, who came next and saw the blaze at the back of the cave, between two stones. “Why! what a nice cave you’ve got here.”

The fire lit up the cave, for it was only about a dozen feet square. Only, it was not really square, being of a circular shape at the back. The smoke from the fire rose straight up and disappeared through a hole in the low roof through which there must have been considerable draught.

Of course, there was a strong smell of wood smoke in the cave; but not enough smoke to make one’s eyes smart. There were some old blankets and rugs on the floor for carpet. Against one side wall was a great heap of balsam boughs, over which were flung robes.

When Sammy came staggering in with the sled he fairly shouted his approval of the cave.

“Je-ru-sa-lem! what a jim-dandy place. Say! I bet Neale O’Neil would like to see this.”

“Well, you needn’t be bringing anybody here and showing it. This is our own particular hideout—Rowdy’s and mine. So now,” observed Rafe, who seemed to be less friendly than his brother.

“Oh, hush,” pleaded the latter. “Do be hospitable, Rafe. Don’t you know these kids are our guests?”

“‘Guests!’” snorted the other.

“Yes, they are.”

“Oh, please don’t quarrel about us,” urged Tess Kenway gently. “We’ll go right away as soon as it stops snowing, and we’ll never tell anybody about this cave if you don’t want us to.”

“Don’t mind him,” said Rowdy. “He’s got a cold and a grouch. Come on, Rafe; help me pluck this rabbit.”

“Oh, I’ll do that!” cried the red-faced Sammy. “Let me!”

While the little girls were glad to sit before the fire on the blankets, he wished to make himself useful. Besides, to help skin a real rabbit was a height of delight to which Sammy Pinkney had never before risen.

“All right,” said Rowdy. “You get the potatoes and onions ready, Rafe. We have salt and pepper and we can have a nice rabbit stew.”

“Just fry it,” recommended the other cave dweller. “That’s less trouble.”

“You do as I say!” exclaimed Rowdy, sternly. “There are five of us instead of two to eat, and we’ve got to make this rabbit go a long way.”

“Well, who brought them in? I didn’t,” said Rafe, angrily. “You knew we didn’t have any too much to eat.”

“You are a nice one!” began Rowdy, when Tess broke in with:

“I’m awful sorry we came if we are going to make trouble. We can go back under that tree—can’t we, Sammy?”

“I’m not going back there,” Dot said stubbornly. “There’s no fire there. If this other boy doesn’t like us because we are girls, can’t he go out and live under the tree himself?”

This idea seemed to amuse Rowdy a good deal. He laughed aloud—and the laugh did not sound just like a boy’s laugh, either. Tess stared at him wonderingly.

“If Rafe’s going to be so mean,” he said, “he ought to be put out. Go ahead and peel the potatoes and onions, Rafe.”

“Sha’n’t. That’s girl’s work,” growled Rafe.

“Oh! If you’ve got a knife I’ll peel them,” said Tess. “I don’t mind.”

“All right,” Rowdy said. “Give her the knife, Rafe. Put over the pot with some snow in it. The little girl can feed that till there is a lot of water ready. We’ll want some for tea.”

“Don’t want tea,” growled Rafe. “I want coffee.”

“Oh, stop that, Rafe, or I’ll slap you good!” promised Rowdy, his vexation finally boiling over. “I never saw such a boy. Come on here, Sammy. Hold this rabbit by the hind legs and I’ll skin it in a jiffy.”

With the help of a knife to start the rabbit’s hide, Rowdy “plucked” the bunny very handily. It was drawn and cleaned, too, and soon Rowdy was disjointing it as one would a chicken, using a flat stone for a butcher block.

“It—it looks so much like a kitten,” murmured Tess. “Do you suppose it is really good to eat?”

“You wait till you taste it,” chuckled Rowdy, who seemed to be a very practical boy indeed. “I’m going to make dumplings with it, too. I have flour and lard. We’ll have a fine supper by and by. Then Rafe will feel better.”

Rafe merely coughed and grunted. He seemed determined not to be friendly, or even pleasant.

Tess was an experienced potato peeler. She often helped Linda or Mrs. MacCall at home in Milton. In the matter of the onions she was quite as successful, although she confessed that they made her cry.

“I don’t see why onions act so,” Dot said, wiping her own eyes. “There ought to be some way of smothering ’em while you take their jackets off. Oh, Tess, that one squirted right into my face!”

“You’ll have to take your face away from me, then,” said her sister. “I can’t tell where the onion’s going to squirt next. They are worse than those clams we got down at Pleasant Cove, about squirting.”

“Goodness’ sake!” exclaimed Rowdy. “Clams and onions! Never heard them compared before. Did you, Rafe?”

“Don’t bother me,” growled Rafe, from the bed where he had lain down.

Rowdy kept right on with his cooking. There being plenty of snow melted, he put down the disjointed rabbit with a little water and pepper and salt to simmer. Later he put in the onions and the potatoes. But they all had to simmer slowly for some time before the dumplings were made and put into the covered pot with the rabbit stew.

The children were all very hungry indeed (all save Rafe, the grouch) before Rowdy pronounced the stew ready to be eaten. By that time it was late in the evening. It seemed to the younger children as though they had been living in the cave already for a long, long time!