"Yes, you do care,--and I care, too. We can't afford to quarrel, and all over nothing. Come on, we'll get through somehow," said Andy. "Guess I said too much," murmured Chet, and began to haul on the load as if his life depended upon it. "I thought----Oh, Andy, there's a shot for us!" The quick-tempered lad, who was equally quick-eyed, stopped and pointed to a tree some distance on their right. Andy saw something move, but could not make out what it was. "Partridge," announced his companion, and swung his gun around. "I'm going to take a shot when they go up." He glided over the snow, and Andy came behind him. Then up went four partridge with a whirr that would have startled one not accustomed to the sound. Bang! went Chet's gun, and bang! came the report of Andy's immediately after. Two of the partridges came fluttering down, while the two others circled around in a helpless, dazed fashion. "We must get those, too!" cried Chet, and blazed away again, and then Andy took another shot. Down came the game, and the boys glided forward to secure the prizes. The partridges were of good size, and plump, and the lads gazed at them and turned them over in deep satisfaction. "We'll prove to Mr. Dawson that we can hunt," cried Chet. His recent ill humor had completely disappeared. In getting back to where they had left the moose, Andy struck an icy rock and rolled over and over in the snow. Chet was compelled to laugh, but quickly subsided, thinking his chum might be angry. But though he had hard work to get up and secure the game he had been carrying, Andy retained his peace of mind. "Fortune of war," he said, as he dug the loose snow from his clothing. "Birr! but it's cold." "Want to go to the North Pole now?" said Chet, quizzically. "This minute, if I had the chance," was the quick reply. The partridges were tied on top of the moose, and once again the two lads headed for the cabin. Soon they came in sight of the place, and set up a loud whistling, which brought the two men to the door. "A fine moose!" cried Barwell Dawson. "And fine partridge, too." "Don't you think we are pretty fair hunters?" asked Chet. "First-class," returned Mr. Dawson. CHAPTER XI A SERIOUS LOSS Having brought their game around to the shed attached to the cabin, the boys were glad enough to rest before the generous fire, while Professor Jeffer proceeded to cut out some choice moose meat, having been requested by Barwell Dawson to do so. "The moose is yours," Mr. Dawson said to the boys. "But I must have at least one steak, although it may be rather tough." "You can have as much as you like," answered Chet. "I don't think Andy wants it all, and I am sure I don't." Darkness was settling down once more around the cabin, when Andy chanced to think of the papers concerning the land claim in Michigan. He had placed them in an inside pocket of his jacket, and now he inserted his hand to bring them forth, to make certain that they were safe.