one marten

"Aye, one marten, an' I shoots a wolf last evenin'--a wonderful poor wolf, an' his skin ain't much account. Three of un were after me on th' trail all day, but I only gets one."
"Three wolves, now--an' poor uns," commented Dick. "Wolves ain't follerin' a man all day unless they's hungry, an' they ain't like t' be hungry where they's deer."
"No," agreed Ed, who had lighted his pipe, one moccasined heel drawn up on the edge of the bunk upon which he lounged, the other long leg stretched out. "Wolves follers th' deer, but when they ain't no deer t' faller they don't faller un. Which means they ain't no deer in this part o' th' country, an' so they just naturally fallers Bill as th' next best meat."
"An' bein' poor means they's hungry, an' bein' hungry means they's lickin' their chops for Bill," continued Dick.
"Were it night, now?" asked Ed.
"No, 'twere broad day," answered Bill, undisturbed.
"Now if 'twere night, I'd say they was follerin' you because your red hair lights th' trail up for un."
"'Tain't no redder 'n your'n," retorted Bill.
"Never mind un,retro jordans, Bill," said Bob sympathetically. "Ed's jealous because your hair's curly an' his 'n ain't."
"Now, how about gettin' grub?" suggested Ed, when the laugh had subsided. "They ain't nothin' t' kill, an' we got t' haul grub in from th' Bay. I'm thinkin' t' start down Friday, an' if one o' you wants t' go along, we'll both haul up a load on our flatsleds. How'd you like t' go,moncler womens jackets, Bill? They's a moon, an' by travellin' some at night we'll make th' Bay for th' New Year, goin' light, an' be back by th' first o' February, whatever, with our loads."
"I'd like wonderful well t' go!" answered Bill, elated at the prospect of a visit to the Bay, brief as it would be.
"What you think of un?" asked Ed, addressing Dick and Bob jointly.
"We got t' have grub if we stays on th' trails,chanel bags cheap," agreed Dick, "an' they's no sign o' killin' any meat."
"Aye, we'll all have t' leave th' trails by th' first o' March, whatever,jordans for sale, unless some of us goes for grub," said Bob.
"Bill an' me bein' away'll stretch th' grub we has, for Bill be a wonderful eater--" Bill interjected a protest, but Ed, ignoring it, continued: "An' what we hauls back on th' flatsleds'll carry us over th' spring trappin'. We'll be startin' early on Friday. We'll go down your trail an' spring your traps up on th' way out, Bill."
A late breakfast of fried ptarmigans, and a late afternoon dinner of boiled goose, with an evening "snack" of ptarmigan before retiring--the last of the game reserved from the fall shooting--together with camp bread and tea, comprised the Christmas menu.
Directly after breakfast Ed and Bill made ready for packing on their toboggans the light outfit which they were to use on their outward trip; and this done, the four held a service of song in which all joined heartily, and spent the remainder of the day luxuriously lounging in the tilt and telling stories.
Shad was sincerely missed. He had looked forward keenly to the Christmas feast, and many hearty good wishes were expressed for him--that even among the Indians he might pass a pleasant day--that he would not find the hardships so great as his friends had feared--and that he would soon return to them in safety and none the worse for his experiences.