find again when he returned to set them. Once they came upon some
ptarmigans, white as the snow upon which they stood. Their "grub bag"
received several of the birds, which were very tame and easily shot. A
hurried march brought them to the first tilt at noon, where they had
dinner, and that night, shortly after dark, they reached the second
tilt, thirty miles from their starting point. At midday on Thursday
they came to the end of the trail.

When they had had dinner of fried ptarmigan and tea, Bill announced:
"I'll be leavin' ye now, Bob. In two weeks from Friday we'll be
meetin' in th' river tilt."

"All right, an' I'll be there."

"An' don't be gettin' lonesome, now I leaves un."

"I'll be no gettin' lonesome. There be some traps t' mend before I
starts back an' a chance bit o' other work as'll keep me busy."

Then Bill turned down the trail, and Bob for the first time in his
life was quite alone in the heart of the great wilderness.




VII

A STREAK OF GOOD LUCK