"But some of the lawless trappers are almost as bad," replied Rodney. "They do fearful things when they are in the humor for it." "It's the liquor, Rodney," answered the old frontiersman. "Put liquor into a hot-tempered man an' ye make a fiend o' him. Those fellers see the redskins do things, an' then they want to go the red varmints one better, an' there ye are." "Oh, I know that rum has caused a whole lot of trouble in this world," answered Rodney. "For my part, I'd like to see the manufacture and sale of the stuff stopped." "Won't never see that, lad--too many folks a-makin' money out o' the traffic. Besides, ef they did try to stop it some would be makin' it on the sly, an' drinkin' it, too." "If the red men would only turn to farming all might go well," said Joseph Morris, thoughtfully. "But they seem to hate work in the fields. An Indian would rather hunt all day for a single turkey, or fish all day for a single trout, than gather a bushel of corn if it was given to him. Even White Buffalo won't work the ground if he can help it." At last the snowstorms seemed at an end, and one day Dave, Rodney, and White Buffalo went out to hunt. The red man had his bows and arrows with him, and showed them how easy it was to bring down some birds on the wing without disturbing the other game that was near. No large game was discovered, but the three returned to the cabin loaded down with half a dozen small animals and twenty-six birds of various kinds. They also laid low two foxes, and the skins were given to Mrs. Morris for a muff. One night Dave and Rodney were on the point of retiring when there came a loud knock on the side of the cabin. Mrs. Morris, Nell, and the twins had already gone to sleep, and the others were dozing near the fire. "What's that?" exclaimed Dave, and by instinct he leaped for the gun behind the door. Seeing this, Rodney reached for the weapon resting on the elk antlers. The knock was repeated. It came from the side of the cabin where there was no door. Joseph Morris roused up sleepily. "Did you let something fall, boys?" he asked. "No," answered Rodney. "Somebody is knocking on the side of the house." Awakened by this declaration, Joseph Morris sprang up, and so did Sam Barringford and White Buffalo. Again came the knock. "Who is there?" demanded Joseph Morris, loudly. "A friend! Let me in!" was the low answer. "Who are you?" "Ira Sanderson." "Ira Sanderson!" ejaculated Dave. "Oh, he must bring news from the trading-post!" He ran towards the door and started to open it. "Wait--it may be a ruse," said his uncle, stopping him. "Sanderson, are you alone?" he called out. "Ye--yes. Let me in. I--I am hurt."