be able to keep up with us," added Walter, "for we've little
time before us, an' a long way to go."

"If I break down I can turn back," retorted Roy.

"Very good; please yourself;" said Robin in a tone of indifference,
although his glance seemed to indicate that he was not sorry to see his
boy determined to attempt an expedition which he knew from experience
would be very trying to a lad of his years.

Breakfast over, the three hunters clothed themselves in habiliments
suitable to the climate--leathern coats and trousers which were
impervious to the wind; cloth leggings to keep the snow from the
trousers; leather mocassins, or shoes with three pairs of blanket socks
inside of them; fur-caps with ear-pieces; leather mittens with an
apartment for the fingers and a separate chamber for the thumb,
powder-horns, shot-pouches, guns, and snow-shoes. These latter were
light wooden frames, netted across with deerskin threads, about five
feet long and upwards of a foot wide. The shoes were of this enormous
size, in order that they might support the wearers on the surface of the
snow, which was, on an average, four feet deep in the woods. They were
clumsy to look at, but not so difficult to walk in as one might suppose.

In silence the three hunters entered the dark woods in front of Fort
Enterprise. Robin went first and beat the track, Walter followed in his
footsteps, Roy brought up the rear. The father sank about six inches at
every step, but the snow which fell upon his snow-shoes was so fine and
dry, owing to the intense frost, that it fell through the net-work of
the shoes like dust. Walter and Roy, treading in the footsteps, had
less labour in walking, but Walter, being almost as strong as his uncle,
took his turn at beating the track every two hours.

Through the woods they went, over mound and hollow, across frozen swamp
and plain, through brush and break, until near noon, when they halted
for rest and refreshment. While Walter cut firewood, Robin and Roy
cleared away the snow, using their snow-shoes as shovels, and prepared
their meal. It was simple; a few mouthfuls of dried meat and a tin can
of hot tea--the backwoodsman's greatest luxury, next to his pipe. It
was short, too. Half an hour sufficed to prepare and consume it.

"Let's see, now, what we have got," said Robin, counting the game before
resuming the march.

"More than enough," said Walter, lighting his pipe for a hurried whiff,
"ten brace of w