He broke off short. The discharge of the gun and their approach had started up two more rabbits less than a rod off. They were scampering through the snow at top speed. Harry took steady aim and fired. One of the bunnies was killed and the other seriously injured. “After him or he’ll get away!” yelled Jack, referring to the wounded rabbit, which was doing its best to drag itself out of sight in some brushwood. With a bound Harry ran forward and caught the animal when it was still a yard from cover. A blow from the gunstock settled its career forever. “That beats me,” said Jack. “Three rabbits is not bad. Shall we go back with them?” “We seem to have struck a good spot. Let us get what we can before the bunnies skip elsewhere.” So they went on, around the brushwood, and in among the trees in the vicinity. At first they saw nothing, but soon scared up three rabbits in a bunch. Bang! bang! went Jack’s and Harry’s guns simultaneously, and two more rabbits were added to their list. The third animal escaped unharmed. “That makes five,” said Jack. “We are doing famously, to my way of thinking.” “Let us continue,” returned Harry, with a good deal of excitement. This was outing sport and no mistake. So they went on, but no more rabbits appeared, nor did any other animals put in sight. They bagged half-a-dozen small birds, however, and then, with their game-bags well filled, returned to the camp. Andy and Boxy had just arrived. Each of them had shot a squirrel, and Andy had killed a third with a stick of wood. They had also secured nearly two quarts of hickory nuts from one of the squirrel’s nests. “Now we are fixed for several days,” declared Jack. “Let us save the rabbits and have a little squirrel on toast for breakfast.” “That’s it,” laughed Boxy. “Think of it, squirrel on toast! Delmonico’s an’t in it, eh?” and every one joined in the laugh. Pickles had not been idle. Water was boiling over the fire, and exactly five big potatoes--portion of the small mess brought along--were roasting in the ashes beneath. It was not long before the smell of newly made coffee and broiling squirrel filled the air. A portion of the fire was dragged directly in front of the entrance to the hut, making the interior as warm as the kitchen of a house, and then the five sat down to a well-earned breakfast and dinner combined. That they enjoyed every mouthful goes without saying. “Now, what’s the programme for to-day?” questioned Boxy, when he was about full. “At first let us give Pickles a chance to clean up, while we finish work on the hut and build a regular fireplace,” returned Harry. “That’s it,” added Jack. “Pickles can also tend to the animals we have killed, so they won’t spoil. The hut must be put into shape, so that it will stand the wind and any storm that may come along.” “I don’t think we’ll get any more snow,” said Andy, but the others shook their heads.