CHAPTER 2THE WHITE BUCK
Three days later, the twenty-ninth of November, the last of the traps were picked up and cached in various hollow stumps throughout the woods.
His last night in the cabin, too excited to sleep, John sat before a roaring wood fire listening to the snap and crack of the flames and watching the red-hot center of each stove lid expand and contract as the fire alternately leaped high or died a little. Over and over again the same happy thought ran through his mind. Tomorrow he would be a Ranger!
Outside, the wind had shifted from east to west and was carrying big downy snowflakes with it. Already the ground was white with what was to be the first heavy snow of the season. But it seemed a good omen, a clean new world in which to start a new life. It was past midnight w
