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قراءة كتاب Northern Diamonds
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cabin.
A good deal of fresh snow had drifted in, but they swept it out, brought in fresh balsam twigs for couches, and lighted a roaring fire.
The hut was decidedly homelike and cozy, and a vast improvement on the open camp. The smell of formaldehyde had gone entirely. The light from the skin-covered window was poor, but that seemed to be the only drawback, until, as the temperature rose, the roof showed a leak near the door. Snow water dripped in freely, in spite of their efforts to stop it, until Maurice finally clambered to the roof, cleared away the snow, tore up the thatch, and covered the defective spot with a large piece of old deer-hide.
In the afternoon it stopped snowing; Macgregor and Fred, with the two rifles, made a wide circuit round the cabin, but killed no game except half a dozen spruce grouse. Not a deer trail did they see; probably the animals were yarded for the winter.
Without being discouraged, however, Peter set out again the next morning, this time with Maurice. Fred, left alone, spent most of the day in cutting wood and storing it by the cabin door, and the hunters did not return until just after sunset. They were empty-handed, but in high spirits, and had a great tale to tell.
Five miles from camp, Maurice and Peter had come upon the fresh trail of a moose, and had followed it nearly all day. Toward the middle of the afternoon, however, they were obliged to give up the chase and turn back, for they were fully fifteen miles from home.
On the way to the cabin they chanced upon a well-beaten deer trail that they felt certain must lead to a "yard." It was too late to follow it that day, but they determined to have a great hunt on the morrow.
Killing yarded deer is not exactly sportsmanlike, and is unlawful besides; but law is understood to yield to the necessities of the frontier, and the boys needed the meat badly.
The next morning they were off early. It was clear and cold. A little wind blew the powdery snow like puffs of smoke from the trees, and the biting air was full of life. It was impossible to be anything but gay in that atmosphere; even Fred, oppressed with anxiety as he was, felt its effect.
The fresh snow was criss-crossed here and there with the tracks of small animals,—rabbits, foxes, and squirrels,—and now and again a spruce partridge rose with a roar. These birds were plentiful, and the boys might have made a full bag if they had ventured to shoot.
It was nearly noon before they reached the deer trail. They followed it back for some twenty minutes, and came down into a low bottom, grown up with small birch and poplar. Fred had only the vaguest idea what a deer yard was like; he half expected a dense huddle of deer in a small, beaten space, and he was consequently much startled when he suddenly heard a sound of crashing and running in the thickets.