What say,
boys?"
"By all that's glorious!" ejaculated Cyrus, his eyes striking light.
"Caribou-signs! Of course we'll follow them. A bit of fresh meat would
be pretty acceptable, and a good view of a herd of caribou would be
still more so--to me, at any rate. That would just about top off our
exploring to a T."
"We've got to be mighty spry, then," said the woodsman, lurching to his
feet, muscles swelling, and nostrils spreading like a sleuth-hound's.
"If you want caribou, you've got to take 'em while they're around. Old
hunters have a saying: 'They're here to-day, to-morrow nowhere.' And
that's about the size of it."
"Let's start off this minute!" Dol jerked out the words while he bolted
the last salt shreds of his pork. "Hurry up, you fellows! You're as slow
as snails. I'd eat the jolliest meal that was ever cooked in three
minutes."
"No wonder you squirm and shout all night, then, until sane people with
good digestions feel ready to blow your head off," laughed Cyrus, who
was one of the laggards; but he disposed of the last mouthfuls of his
own meal with little regard for his digestive canal.
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