He led the way landward from the narrow part of the bluff to a point about a hundred yards up-stream, where David now beheld the neat little cabin in which the supplies were stored. It had a door of boards, evidently constructed from the material of a coffee-box, but there was no window, either because no more boards were to be had, or because the cabin was less vulnerable with but a single opening in its heavy walls. The door was fitted with good hinges and a padlock. Forest enclosed the cabin, except on the side from which they had come, and toward the river; and off among the trees wound a path which joined the main trail about fifty rods away. "You won't have to fight Indians, my lad," said Champlain, who was aware that his imaginative talk might cause David some uneasiness; "and as for bears, you don't seem to mind them much, judging from what I've heard." "I think I can take care of the bears," said David. [Illustration: A HERD OF CATTLE.--YUKON DIVIDE IN THE DISTANCE] Champlain eyed the lad with evident approval. "I like your pluck," said he; "but let an old hunter advise you to leave such beasts alone, when you're not in reach of help. You see, we should never know where to look for you if you should meet with an accident off in these woods. Better stick pretty close to the cabin." On their way back to the cook-tent Champlain pointed out a pile of saddles and blankets near the embers of a fire. "Must be a pack train somewhere about," he observed. "I wonder where the men and horses are. It's too early for ours to be here." The explanation was quickly forthcoming. A large herd of cattle, convoyed by five or six horsemen, had arrived on the previous day on their way to Dawson, and had been halted for a day's rest at the Landing. The men were now rounding up their charges into an open meadow half a mile distant, preparatory to an early start in the morning. "And you'll be very glad they came when you know what you're to have for supper," added Hovey, with a twinkle in his eye, as he bustled about the sheet-iron stove in the cook-tent. "Oh, we live high at this hotel!" Herrick chimed in. "How would fried liver strike you,--and hot biscuits and butter,--and tea with cream and sugar,--and a custard by way of dessert?" "What's this you're talking about?" cried the captain, who had overheard the last few words. "Cream and custards? I'll believe when I see and taste!" "All right, my sceptical friend! Come in. Supper's ready. Muck-muck!" No second call was needed, for the travellers were ravenous. They entered the cook-tent at once, and took their places on empty boxes around a small improvised table. "Now then," said Hovey, who, with Herrick, had finished supper some three hours before, and now presided gracefully over the cook-stove in the interest of the guests, "pass the plates."