CHAPTER XXX
BURYING THE HATCHET
Early on the following morning, the boys, accompanied by Yardsley, set out with a couple of sleds to get Bob Somers' bear.
The carcass was found undisturbed, and the trapper immediately set to work to skin it, the "cap'n" assisting to the best of his ability. Yardsley cut up the meat, which the boys then placed upon the sleds.
The clouds were still edged with the tints of sunset when Piper and his companions arrived, and shortly before dusk three dark figures were seen slowly approaching, Bowser giving evidence of his presence by his usual doleful bark.
"Evenin', people!" greeted Billy Musgrove. "Hello, Wackett,—bear meat? H'm, smells good, don't it? Me an' Tim hasn't eaten nothin' all day—gittin' ready fur this."
"An' yer done well," said Yardsley. "It's pitch in an' help yerself, 'til natur' cries enough."
Nightfall came, and the fire sent up towering flames and showers of sparks, illuminating the surroundings with a fitful glare. The feast was ready.
"An' ter think that Scummers shot a bear," remarked Musgrove, reflectively, as he sliced off a huge piece of meat; "an' me an' Tim ain't seen one for a year, 'most."
At length the banquet was over; sighs of contentment came from many.
"An occasion sich as this ain't never complete without a bit of speech-makin'," suggested Yardsley, with a glance around. "Who wants ter start the ball a-rollin'?"
Dave Brandon slowly arose.
"I feel uncommonly like taking a nap," he said, with a smile, "but I suppose somebody must say a few words at such an auspicious time."
"He knows some big ones, all right," came a hoarse whisper from Musgrove.
"I think," continued Dave, "our winter camp has been a great success. Best of all, our friend, Nat Wingate, is now sound as a dollar. Life in the open has taught us many lessons, among them habits of self-reliance, and willingness to work. Oh, yes, I've watched you many times, boys, and was pleased to note the energy of everybody except yours truly. It's a good sign. We know that town boys can be hunters, and trappers gentlemen, and that a dinner in the wilds can furnish more enjoyment than one in the richest dining-room. I think I voice the sentiments of all, when I say that we greatly appreciate the efforts of our host, John Yardsley, and that we are thankful the bear furnished a meal for us, and not Bob Somers for the bear."
A burst of cheers arose, as the poet laureate, beaming good-naturedly, sat down, and Musgrove was heard to remark, "There's a smart lad fur yer, Tim—talks like one of the real speechers."
"Our stout young friend has spoken words of wisdom," began Yardsley, rising. "I must say I never enjoyed a winter like this in me life, an' I hate ter think of yer leavin'. These here woods will sartingly seem like a silent, dreary place, arter this. I can say, without meanin' ter flatter no one, that I never come acrost a likelier crowd of young chaps—success ter ye all!"
The banquet was voted a grand success by everybody, and the moon had risen high in the heavens before the visitors began their march to camp.