ion
from his brow, and said--

"Wot for didn't ye tell us o' this before, Redhand?"

"Because I wasn't sure the _cache_ might not have bin discovered long
ago, and I didn't want to risk disappointin' ye."

"Hallo! here's _somethin'_," exclaimed Big Waller, as the point of the
stake with which he tore up the earth struck against some hard
substance.

"Have a care, boy," cried Bounce, stooping down and clearing away the
earth with his hands. "P'r'aps it's easy broken. No--why--it's a keg!"

"So it am," cried Gibault; "p'r'aps it am poudre."

At this moment Big Waller and Bounce gave the keg a violent tug and
disentombed it, an operation which proved Gibault's surmise to be wrong,
for the shake showed that the contents were liquid. In a moment the
plug was driven in, and Bounce, putting his nose to the hole, inhaled
the result. He drew back with a look of surprise, and said--

"Brandy!"

"Ha! here is one oder ting," cried Gibault, laying hold of a bundle and
dragging it to light. "Vat can dis be?"

The question was soon answered; the string was cut, the leathern cover
unrolled, and a considerable quantity of tobacco was disclosed to the
view of the trappers, whose looks showed pretty clearly that this latter
discovery was much more agreeable than the former.

After digging deep all round the tree, they came to the conclusion that
this was all that the _cache_ contained.

"Now," said Bounce, after some talk in reference to their newly-found
treasure, "wot's to be done with dis here keg o' brandy? As for the
baccy, we'll carry that along with us, of course, an' if Master
Redhand's a liberal feller, we'll help him to smoke it. But the brandy
keg's heavy, an' to say truth, I'm not much inclined for it. I never
wos fond o' fire-water."

"If you'd allow me, friends, to suggest," said Bertram, whose experience
among trappers in other regions had convinced him that spirits was a
most undesirable commodity, "I would recommend that you should throw
this brandy away. I never saw good come of it. We do not require it
for health, neither do we for sickness. Let us throw it away, my
friends; it is a dangerous and deceitful foe."

"Mais, monsieur," interposed Gibault with a rueful countenance; "you
speak de trooth; but though hims be dangereux an' ver' bad for drink
oftin, yet ven it be cold vedder, it doo varm de cokils of de hart!"

Big Waller laughed vociferously at this. "I guess Gibault's right,"
said h