"An' what's th' signs o' fur? Be there much marten signs?"

"Aye, some. Looks like un goin' t' be some. An' be there much signs on
th' Big Hill trail? Dick says there's a lot o' footin' his way."

"I _has_ one marten," said Bob proudly, "an' finds good signs."

"Un _has_ one a'ready! An' be un a good un?"

"Not so bad."

"Well, you be startin' fine, gettin' th' first marten an' th' first
deer."

Bill had taken off his adikey and disposed of his things, and they sat
down to eat and enjoy a long evening's chat.

With every week the cold grew in intensity, and with every storm the
snow grew deeper, hiding the smaller trees entirely and reaching up
towards the lower limbs of the larger ones. The little tilts were
covered to the roof, and only a hole in the white mass showed where
the door was.

The sun now described a daily narrowing arc in the heavens, and the
hours of light were so few that the hunters found it difficult to
cover the distance between their tilts in the little while from dawn
to dark. On moonlight mornings Bob started long before day, and on
starlight evenings finished his day's work after night. His cheeks and
nose were frost-bitten and black, but he did not mind that for he was