When the Little Cabin contingent came in to breakfast, “Hello! what you got up on the roof?” says Potts.

“Foot of earth and three feet o’ snow!”

“But what’s in the bundle!”

“Bundle?” echoes the Boy.

“If you put a bundle on the roof, I s’pose you know what’s in it,” says the Colonel severely.

The occupants of the two cabins eyed each other with good-humoured suspicion.

“Thank you,” says the Boy, “but we’re not takin’ any bundles to-day.”

“Call next door,” advised the Colonel.

“You think we’re tryin’ to jolly you, but just go out and see for yourself—­”

“No, sir, you’ve waked the wrong passenger!”

“They’re tryin’ it on us,” said Potts, and subsided into his place at the breakfast-table.

During the later morning, while the Colonel wrestled with the dinner problem, the Boy went through the thick-falling snow to see if the tree was all right, and the dogs had not appropriated the presents.  Half-way up to the cotton-wood, he glanced back to make sure Kaviak wasn’t following, and there, sure enough, just as the Little Cabin men had said—­there below him on the broad-eaved roof was a bundle packed round and nearly covered over with snow.  He went back eyeing it suspiciously.

Whatever it was, it seemed to be done up in sacking, for a bit stuck out at the corner where the wind struck keen.  The Boy walked round the cabin looking, listening.  Nobody had followed him, or nothing would have induced him to risk the derision of the camp.  As it was, he would climb up very softly and lightly, and nobody but himself would be the wiser even if it was a josh.  He brushed away the snow, touching the thing with a mittened hand and a creepy feeling at his spine.  It was precious heavy, and hard as iron.  He tugged at the sacking.  “Jee! if I don’t b’lieve it’s meat.”  The lid of an old cardboard box was bound round the frozen mass with a string, and on the cardboard was written:  “Moose and Christmas Greeting from Kaviak’s friends at Holy Cross to Kaviak’s friends by the Big Chimney.”

“H’ray! h’ray!  Come out, you fellas!  Hip! hip! hurrah!” and the Boy danced a breakdown on the roof till the others had come out, and then he hurled the moose-meat down over the stockade, and sent the placard flying after.  They all gathered round Mac and read it.

“Be the Siven!”

“Well, I swan!”

“Don’t forget, Boy, you’re not takin’ any.”

“Just remember, if it hadn’t been for me it might have stayed up there till spring.”

“You run in, Kaviak, or you’ll have no ears.”

But that gentleman pulled up his hood and stood his ground.

“How did it get on the roof, in the name o’ the nation?” asked the Colonel, stamping his feet.

“Never hear of Santa Claus?  Didn’t I tell you, Kaviak, he drove his reindeer team over the roofs?”

“Did you hear any dogs go by in the night?”