A
hurried march brought them to the first tilt at noon, where they had
dinner, and that night, shortly after dark, they reached the second
tilt, thirty miles from their starting point. At midday on Thursday
they came to the end of the trail.
When they had had dinner of fried ptarmigan and tea, Bill announced:
"I'll be leavin' ye now, Bob. In two weeks from Friday we'll be
meetin' in th' river tilt."
"All right, an' I'll be there."
"An' don't be gettin' lonesome, now I leaves un."
"I'll be no gettin' lonesome. There be some traps t' mend before I
starts back an' a chance bit o' other work as'll keep me busy."
Then Bill turned down the trail, and Bob for the first time in his
life was quite alone in the heart of the great wilderness.
VII
A STREAK OF GOOD LUCK
When Bill was gone Bob went to work at once getting some traps that
were hanging in the tilt in good working order. He set them and sprang
them one after another, testing every one critically. They were
practically all new ones, and Douglas, after his careful, painstaking
manner, had left them in thorough repair. These were some additional
traps that no place had been found for on the trail. There were only
about twenty of them and Bob decided that he would set them along the
shores of a lake beyond the tilt, where there were none, and look
after them on the Saturday mornings that he would be lying up there.
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