They had brought thongs for tying the animals
together. Billy carried his bunch slung over the stock of the gun, which
he carried over his shoulder. His comrade carried his on a short pole. A
good many of the martens were still alive in the traps and had to be
knocked on the head; the blood from them dripped from the packs on the
snow behind.
Fifteen miles is a long tramp for boys of their age, and, since December
days are short, it is not astonishing that the afternoon had waned and
the sun set before they reached the birch-bark camp. From that place
they would have to descend Lurvey's Stream for two or three miles to
Lurvey's Mills, and then reach home by way of a wagon road. Dusk falls
rapidly in the woods. By the time they reached the camp they could
barely see the "blazes" on the tree trunks. They decided to kindle a
fire and remain at the camp till the next morning. Each began at once to
collect dry branches and bark from the white birch-trees that grew along
the stream.
It was not until then that Billy made a bad discovery. In those days
there were no matches; for kindling a fire pioneers depended on igniting
a little powder and tow in the pans of their flintlocks.
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