With Trapper Jim in the North Woods | Page 6

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 came rushing into the cabin, his eyes filled with excitement, and
his voice raised to almost a shout as he cried out:
"Wolves; a whole pack of 'em comin' tearin' mad this way!"
CHAPTER III.
WHAT WOODCRAFT MEANT.
"Wolves! Oh, my gracious! You don't say!" cried Bandy-legs, making a
dive for the two sleeping bunks that Steve had built along one side of
the inside wall of the cabin.
Of course there was an immediate scurrying around. All the other boys
were on their feet instantly, even tired Toby with the rest.
Max instinctively threw a glance toward the corner where his faithful
gun stood. He did not jump to secure it, however, because something
caused him to first of all steal a quick look at Trapper Jim. When he
discovered that worthy with a broad smile upon his face, Max decided
that after all the danger could hardly be as severe as indications
pointed.

Meanwhile Steve had managed to slam the door shut, and was holding
it so with his whole weight while he tried to adjust the bar properly in
its twin sockets.
Steve was trembling all over with excitement. A thing like this was apt
to stir him up tremendously.
"Why don't some of you lend a hand here?" he kept calling out. "Plague
take that clumsy old bar, won't it ever take hold? Get my gun for me,
can't you, Bandy-legs? Listen to the varmints a-tryin' to break in, would
you. Wow! Ain't they mad I fooled them, though? Say, I wonder now if
they'd think to get on the roof and come down the chimbly. Hand me
my gun, Bandy-legs! Get a move on you!"
By this time Jim was doubled up with laughter.
"Hold on you cannon-ball express boy," he remarked, as he stepped
over and began to take away the bar which Steve had managed to get in
place with so much trouble; "I guess we'll have to let these critters
come in. They look on Uncle Jim's cabin as their home."
"What, wolves!" gasped Steve.
"Well, hardly, but my two dogs, Ajax and Don," replied the trapper.
"You see, I didn't want them along when I borrowed that buckboard
and team to fetch you all here. So I left 'em with a neighbor three miles
off, and told him to set 'em loose to-night. So you thought they were
wolves, did you, Steve? Well, I guess they look somethin' that way, and
the moonlight was a little deceivin', too."
With that he threw open the door.
Immediately a couple of shaggy dogs bounded in and began barking
furiously as they jumped up at their master, showing all the symptoms
of great joy.
"Sho, one'd think they hadn't seen me for a whole month, instead of
only a few hours," laughed Trapper Jim, as he fondled the dogs.

Then the five boys in turn were introduced, as gravely as though Ajax
and Don might be human beings.
"They're quick to catch on," remarked Trapper Jim. "They know now
you're all friends of mine, and you can depend on 'em to stand by you
through thick and thin."
"What are they good for?" asked Bandy-legs.
"This smaller one is reckoned the best 'coon dog in the woods," replied
the other, patting the head of Don. "If there's a striped-tail in the district
and I set him to working, he'll get him up a tree sooner or later. And
when the animal is knocked to the ground Don knows just how to get
the right grip on his throat."
"But his ears are all slit, and his head looks like it had been scratched
and gouged a whole lot," remarked Steve.
"Well, old 'coons, they've got pretty sharp claws sometimes, ain't