However, it answered admirably for
carrying the tent, knapsacks, and trophies of the party, tightly
strapped in place, including Neal's bear-skin, which was duly called
for, and the moose-antlers, more precious in Dol's sight than if they
had been made of beaten gold.
Thus the campers journeyed homeward with their backs as light as their
spirits, caring little for the chills of a couple of nights spent under
canvas and rubber coverings.
Two gala evenings they had,--one with Uncle Eb in his bark hut near
Squaw Pond, where they were regaled with a sumptuous supper, for "coons
war in eatin' order now;" and the second with Doctor Phil Buck at his
little frame house near Moosehead Lake.
Dear old Doc was as ever a power,--a power to welcome, uplift,
entertain.
The campers sought him immediately on their arrival at Greenville; and
he stood by them while Cyrus made a full statement before the local
coroner about the death and burial of the half-breed, Chris Kemp, the
Farrars and Herb confirming what was said with due dignity.
But dignity was blown to the four winds by the very unprofessional and
very woodsman-like cheer that Doc raised, and that was echoed
thunderously by Joe Flint and a few other guides and loungers who had
collected to hear the story, when Cyrus described the splendid rush
which Herb made, with the dying man in his arms, and the clay of the
landslide half smothering him.
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