It was a matter of a few minutes’ work to light a fire, and presently Andy had a cozy blaze. Then he broke an armful of spruce boughs, for a seat, and kicking off his snowshoes, settled himself comfortably before the fire to await David’s appearance.
“If I had th’ kettle, now, I’d put un over,” said Andy. “But Davy’ll soon be here.”
An hour passed, and David did not appear. Andy had traveled at such good speed that he had reached the rendezvous a half hour before midday, but David should not have been long behind him. Another hour passed. A northeast breeze had sprung up, and the sky had become overcast. Andy observed uneasily that a storm was brewing. He donned his snowshoes, replenished the fire, and walked out a little way in the direction from which David should come, and to the outer edge of the trees. He stood very still, and listened, but there was no sound, and David was nowhere to be seen.
Andy reluctantly returned to the fire to wait. He was growing anxious and concerned. Surely David should have appeared before this unless--and Andy grew frightened at the thought--unless some accident had happened to him.
During the next half hour Andy’s concern became almost panic. He began to picture David attacked and destroyed by a pack of wolves! Or perhaps his rifle had been accidentally discharged, and injured or killed him! Andy had heard of such accidents more than once. Whatever the reason for David’s delay, it was serious. No ordinary thing would have prevented him from keeping his appointment.
Andy could stand the suspense no longer. He arose, slipped his feet into his snowshoes, and at a half run set out upon the trail in the direction from which David should have come.
As Andy ran he looked eagerly for signs of David. Snow had fallen during the preceding week, and fresh tracks would have been easily distinguishable. The accumulation of a single night’s rime would have sufficed for that. Therefore David could not have passed this way without leaving a boldly marked trail upon the snow, and in attending to the traps this was indeed the only route he could have taken.
In one of the traps a mile from the spruce grove was a handsome cross fox. Andy paused to kill it, and put it out of misery, then hurried on. Under ordinary circumstances he would have been elated at the capture of the fox, for it bore a valuable pelt. Now he scarcely gave it a thought, so great was his anxiety for David’s safety. In another trap was a dead rabbit, but he passed it without stopping.