In the previous stories of this series, the reader who may have been
fortunate enough to peruse them has come to know both Hugh and Bud
pretty well. They have been followed through many adventures
calculated to prove their worth as scouts, and, taken on the whole,
it will be admitted that in most cases the boys carried off the
honors. In the Wolf patrol, as well as among the Otters, Hawks,
and Foxes, there were other lads who were also animated by the
same sort of progressive spirit, and who never allowed an opportunity
to improve their minds or to broaden their knowledge of Nature
escape them.
After taking up their heavy burdens again, Hugh and his comrade
walked on for some time through the woods. The leaves were well
off the trees, though the oaks still held their brown mantle, being
the very last to shed their summer coat. It had frozen quite hard
for several nights previous, and some of the town boys had cherished
vague hopes that there might be ice for the Thanksgiving holidays, a
custom that used to prevail years before, according to the accounts
given by their parents. As yet, however, only a covering an inch
or so thick had settled on the ponds, and of course the running river
showed no signs of congealing, so that skating would have to be
postponed to a later date.
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