Both of the youths had been camping so often that they knew exactly what to do. The fire was stirred up, and fresh wood put on, and they prepared a couple of cups of coffee, and broiled two squirrels. They had bread and crackers, and a little cheese, and thus made quite a good breakfast. The meal over, they lost no time in packing up, and placing the larger portion of their outfits in hiding in the old cabin. To carry them to Lodgeport would have been too much of a load. "We can carry a little food and our guns," said Chet. "If we can't get back tonight, we can return tomorrow. I don't believe anybody will come here during that time." "I hope I don't meet Uncle Si--or Mr. Hopton," said Andy. "We can watch out and easily keep out of their way." To get to the road that led to Lodgeport, the two lads had to cross a heavy patch of timber. Here, under the pines, it was intensely cold, and they had to move along rapidly to keep their blood in circulation. "Talk about Greenland's icy mountains, I guess this is bad enough!" cried Chet, as he slapped his hands to keep them warm. "We'll soon be out in the sunlight again," answered Andy. But he was mistaken, for by the time they reached the open country once more, the sun had gone under a fringe of light clouds, so it was as cold as ever. At the end of four miles they passed through one of the lumber settlements, and then, leaving the wagon road, took to a trail running in the neighborhood of Moose Ridge. "I met a man yesterday who was coming out to the Ridge to hunt," said Andy. "Wonder if he'll have any success." "Hunting is not as good as it might be," answered his chum. "The best of the game was killed off at the very beginning of the season. Still, he may get some deer, or a moose, if he's a good hunter." "I'd like to get a moose myself, Chet." "Oh, so would I. If you see one, kindly point him out to me." And Chet's usually serious face showed a grin. "I will--after I have brought him down with my gun," answered Andy, and then both laughed. Less than fifteen minutes later they came on the trail of a deer. The marks were so fresh, both boys could not resist the temptation to go after the game. They plunged through some bushes, and Andy went headlong into a hollow. "Wuow!" he spluttered, as the snow got into his ears and down his neck. "What a tumble!" "Maybe you're training for a circus," cried Chet. "Not out here--and in this cold. Help me up, will you?" Chet gave his chum a hand, and slowly Andy came out of the hollow. He had dropped his firearm, but this was easily recovered from the snowdrift. "I don't want another such tumble," said the unfortunate one, as he tried to get the snow out of his coat collar. "I'm cold enough already." Once more they went on, after the deer, but the game had evidently heard their voices and taken fright, for when they came to a long, open stretch, no living creature was in sight.