“You’ll hev to be runnin’ through the frozen woods all the time fur game fur me to cook, that’s what you’ll hev to do, Sol Hyde,” retorted Jim Hart.

The idea of going into winter quarters on the island appealed to Paul.  He had grown attached to the little hollow in which he and Jim Hart had built the hut, and he thought they could be very snug and warm.  So he favored Sol’s proposition with ardor, and about twilight they brought the hidden canoe again from the bushes, paddling boldly across the lake for the island.  The place did not now have an uncanny look to Paul.  Instead, it bore certain aspects of home, and he forgot all about the mummies in the trees, which were their protection from invasion.

“It’s good to get back again,” he said.

They landed on the island, hid the canoe, and went straight to the hollow, finding everything there absolutely undisturbed.

“We’ll sleep to-night,” said Henry, “and in the morning we’ll plan.”

Paul noticed, when he rose early the next day, that the whole earth was silver with frost, and he felt they were particularly fortunate in having found some sort of shelter.  The others shared his satisfaction, and they worked all day, enlarging the hut, and strengthening it against the wind and cold with more bark and brush.  At night Henry and Ross took the canoe, went to the mainland, and came back with a deer.  The next day Jim Hart and Shif’less Sol were busy drying the venison, and Paul spent his time fishing with considerable success.

Several days passed thus, and they accumulated more meat and more skins.  The latter were particularly valuable for warmth.  Paul draped them about their hut, arranging them with an artistic eye, while Jim Hart and Shif’less Sol, with a similar satisfaction, watched their larder grow.

“This is the finest winter camp in all the wilderness,” said Shif’less Sol.

“You couldn’t beat it,” said Jim Hart.

These were happy days to Paul.  Knowing now that a message had been sent hack to Wareville, he was released from worry over the possible anxiety of his people on his account, and he was living a life brimful of interest.  Everyone fell almost unconsciously into his place.  Henry Ware, Ross, and Shif’less Sol scouted and hunted far and wide, and Paul and Jim Hart were fishermen, house builders, and, as Paul called it, “decorators.”

The hut in the hollow began to have a cozy look.  Henry and Ross brought in three buffalo skins, which Jim promptly tanned, and which Paul then used as wall coverings.  Wolfskins, deerskins, and one beautiful panther hide were spread upon the floor.  This floor was made mainly of boughs, broken up fine, and dead leaves, but it did not admit water, and the furs and skins were warm.  In one corner of the place grew up a store of dried venison and buffalo meat, over which Jim Hart watched jealously.