ugh: "Snug as two little Red Riding
Hoods."

"Yes, but if the big bear comes home?" murmured Lucile.

"He won't," said Marian with conviction. But the next moment her faith
was shattered. There came a sound from without, and the next instant
some heavy object banged against the door.

"What was that?" both exclaimed at once in hoarse whispers.

CHAPTER XVI

A FORTUNATE DISCOVERY

As Phi and his dog reached the top of the cliff and were about to step
upon the uneven, snow-covered tableland which lay before them, the
boy's eyes chanced to light upon a strange looking brown mass which lay
on the rock beneath the shelter of a projecting ledge.

"What do you suppose that is?" he said to the dog, at the same time
stepping aside to examine it. "It's a net," he commented. "Too fine
for a fish net--must be a bird net. That'd be good luck for us if it
were summer. Place must be alive with birds then from the looks of all
the deserted nests, but now--now you're no good to us." He kicked the
net contemptuously. "Tell us one thing though," he confided to Rover;
"there are people on this island, or at least have been. Natives of
some kind, they must be, for no white man would have the patience to
make a net of sealskin as fine as that. Question is, were they just
camping here to gather eggs or do they live here? If they live here,
what kind of people are they? Well, anyway, let's go see."

Wearily he dragged his tired limbs up a gentle slope. Wearily the old
dog followed on.

But as they reached the crest the dog became suddenly alert. His ears
cocked up, his legs stiff, he sniffed the air.

"What's that, old fellow? Birds? You've a bit of bird dog blood in
you. Lots of leaders have, but I guess you're mistaken. Not birds
this late in the year."

He moved forward a few feet, then his mouth flew open, but no sound
came out. Had he seen a white streak flit across the snow? He had.
There was another and another.

Slowly he backed away. Followed reluctantly by the dog, he retreated
to the rocky shelf where lay the net.

"We may be able to use you yet," he remarked as he picked up an end of
the net. "If you're not too rotten, you'll serve us a good turn.
There are ptarmigan out there. Don't know how many, but enough if we
catch them. Ptarmigan are good too," he smiled at the dog, "good as
quail and about as plump. Boy, Oh, boy! won't we feast though if only
we can catch them? But," he sober