“Yes, they’s rare fine eatin’. I likes un as well as deer’s meat. Now I’ll have a snack an’ then pack th’ tent an’ beddin’ in here. I feels wonderful gaunt.” “Dan, you’re a wonder! Here you’ve been tramping after game all this time, and stopping to help me, without a thing to eat since yesterday.” “If a feller gets game he’s got t’ keep after un when he sees un,” commented Dan, between mouthfuls of the now cold ptarmigan Paul had cooked for him. “An’ ’tis tastin’ wonderful fine, now I gets un. We’ll be havin’ a good feed when I gets back, an’ we’ll find th’ tent rare snug in this timber, free from th’ gale. She’s blowin’ wonderful stiff outside.” “I’m strong enough now, I guess, to go along and help carry the things. I don’t want you to do it alone, Dan. You do all the hard things,” and Paul attempted to rise. “You’ll be stayin’ where you is,” objected Dan, forcing Paul back upon his couch. “’Tis but a light load for me. I’m used t’ packin’, an’ I’ll not be long.” “I do feel pretty weak,” admitted Paul, settling on his couch again. When Dan returned an hour later the sun had set. He brought with him the tent, blankets, cooking utensils and stove, but declared they were not heavy. He declined Paul’s assistance in pitching the tent, and working with the skill of a woodsman soon had all in readiness for the night, a fire in the stove, and three ptarmigans stewing in the kettle. “They’s a wonderful rough sea runnin’,” he remarked when he finally sat down. “I’m thinkin’ we’ll not be gettin’ out o’ here for two days yet. Th’ wind’s shifted t’ th’ west’ard an’ she’s blowin’ a gale, an’ she’s kickin’ up a sea as won’t settle in a day after th’ blow stops.” Dan’s weather prophecy proved quite correct, and three days passed before they were permitted by weather and sea to break camp and resume their journey. Paul’s wounds were not serious, though the deep scratches he had received were painful and troublesome. However, he was able while they remained ashore to attend to camp duties, while Dan hunted. Under Dan’s direction he roasted the four quarters of lynx and the porcupine, together with another porcupine Dan had secured, as a reserve supply of food. The porcupines were placed upon the coals and the quills and hair thoroughly singed off, after which they were scraped. This done, a big log fire was built. On either side and slightly in front of the fire a stake was driven, and a pole extending from stake to stake was tied in position. From the pole, and directly before the fire, the porcupines and quarters of lynx were so suspended, each at the end of a string, that they hung just high enough to clear the ground. By occasionally twirling the string upon which each was hung, every portion of the roasting meat was exposed to the heat and thoroughly cooked. Paul found Dan’s estimate of porcupine not at all overdrawn. He declared it not unlike, and even superior to, roasted young pig; and the lynx he insisted was equal to the finest veal.