"Me to try for the first deer," spoke up Steve, quickly. "Squirrel stew,
like we had for supper to-night, is all very well, but it ain't in the
same class with fresh venison. Yum, yum, my mouth fairly waters for it,
boys!"

"Some like venison and some say gray nut-fed squirrels," remarked Trapper
Jim. "As for me, give me squirrel every time."

"But we ought to try and get one deer anyway, hadn't we?" Steve pleaded.

"Sure we will," replied the owner of the cabin, heartily, "and I hope it
falls to your gun, Steve, seeing you dote on venison so. But it might be
to-morrow I'd like to set a few of my traps, and reckoned that some of
you boys'd want to watch me do the job."

"That's right," cried Owen and Max together, their eyes fairly sparkling
with delight at the anticipated treat.

So they talked on, and Trapper Jim told lots of mighty interesting things
as he smoked his old black pipe and sent curling wreaths of blue smoke up
the broad throat of the chimney.

"Wonder if the moon ain't up long before now?" remarked Steve, finally.

"Go and find out," suggested Bandy-legs.

Whereupon Steve arose, stretched his cramped legs, and, going over to the
door, opened it. They saw him pass out, and as the trapper had started to
relate another of his deeply interesting experiences the boys devoted
their attention to him. But it was not three minutes later when Steve