“When you are in the woods there are several things worth remembering, lads. One is, never leave a fire without you’re certain it won’t do damage.” “Yes, we’ve learned what fire can do,” said Fred, grimly. “Another thing is, don’t fool with your firearms, and don’t point a gun at the other fellow just because you think the gun isn’t loaded. And another thing, never point your gun at yourself or at anybody else when you are climbing a fence, or crawling through the brushwood. The hammer may catch on something and somebody may be killed.” “Yes, I knew of a boy who was killed that way,” said Harry. “He was climbing a rail fence and the charge nearly took the top of his head off.” “And finally,” said Joel Runnell, “when you leave a camp, don’t break up everything in sight just for the sport of it, thinking you’ll never come back that way again. You may want to come back the very next season, or, if you don’t, somebody else may happen that way and it will be a pleasure for that party to find things in shape for use, just as we found Snow Lodge ready for use.” By the time the young hunters had returned to the shelter the wind was rising once more, and they were glad enough to sit around the fire and get warm. While they ate their midday meal Joel Runnel explained many traps and their workings to the boys, and told of what animals he had caught from time to time by such means. They were just preparing to go out for the afternoon when Link, who was at the doorway, called softly to his companions. “Don’t make any noise,” he said. “I think there is some kind of an animal around.” “Is it a bear?” queried Bart. “I don’t know what it is.” “Where did you hear it, Link?” asked Joe. “Down near the lake. It made a very odd sound.” By this time all had reached for their guns and were coming forth from the shelter. “Come with me, Link,” said old Runnell. “You others hang back a little. We’ll find out what it is that is prowling around. I don’t believe it’s a bear.” With extreme caution Joel Runnell led the way in the direction Link had pointed out. The snow covered the rough rocks so that walking was extremely difficult. Just as they were to pass from under some pine trees into the open there came a cat-like cry from a tree to their right. Wheeling around, the old hunter caught sight of two animals facing each other on a sloping tree limb. Each animal was rather larger than a good sized house cat and had a long, bushy tail and short, stout legs. “What are they, cats?” whispered Link. “No, pine martens,” returned the old hunter, in a low voice. “Get back and perhaps we’ll see some fun.” He caught Link by the arm, and both drew back a few paces. Then the others were motioned to keep silent.