After Dick had got through his tale, the hunters held a consultation over the state of their larder. As their coffee, bread, and other supplies were exhausted, and they did not like the idea of living on venison and water, they concluded to break up camp. The next morning they packed their baggage into the sled, and, taking a last look at the place where they had spent so many happy hours, set out for Uncle Joe's cabin, which they reached a little before dark.
Uncle Joe met them at the door, and, while they were relieving themselves of their overcoats and weapons, asked innumerable questions about their sojourn in the woods. Dick took the part of spokesman, and described, in his rude, trapper's style, the scenes through which they had passed, dwelling with a good deal of emphasis on the "keerlessness" displayed by the Young Naturalist in attacking the moose, and in starting off alone to fight the panther. The trapper tried hard to suppress the feelings of pride which he really felt, and favored the young hunter with a look that was intended to be severe, but which was, in fact, a mingling of joy and satisfaction.
Frank bore the scolding which Uncle Joe administered with a very good grace, for he knew that he deserved it.
"I'd like to take the youngster out on the prairy," said Dick, seating himself before the fire, and producing his never-failing pipe. "I'll bet that, arter he had follered me and Useless a year or two, he wouldn't be in no great hurry to pitch into every wild varmint he come acrost."
Frank made no reply, but taking the cubs from the pockets of his overcoat, allowed them to run about the cabin--a proceeding which the dogs, especially Brave, regarded with suspicion, and which they could not be persuaded to permit, until they had received several hearty kicks and cuffs from their masters.
"You can't blame the critters," said the trapper, puffing away at his pipe. "It's their natur', an' I sometimes think that them dogs have a deal more sense than their human masters, an'"----
"Supper's ready," interrupted Bob, the cook and man-of-all-work, and this announcement put an end to all further conversation on the subject.
The boys were highly delighted to find themselves seated at a well-filled table once more, and Uncle Joe's good things rapidly disappeared before their attacks. It made no difference to the trapper, however. With him a few weeks "roughing it" in the woods was, of course, no novelty. A log for a table, and a piece of clean bark for a plate, answered his purpose as well as all the improvements of civilization, which those who have been brought up in the settlements regard as necessary to their very existence.