He kicked over the old chair, which was made of saplings nailed together, scrutinized a heap of rubbish that crumbled to dust under his touch, and gave a little cry of exultation when he found two guns leaning in a corner of the cabin.

Their stocks were decaying; their locks were encased with rust, their barrels, too, were thick with the accumulated rust of years.

Carefully, almost tenderly, he took one of these relics of a past age in his hands.

It was of ancient pattern, almost as long as he was tall.
"Hudson Bay gun--the kind they had before my father was born!" said Wabi.
With bated breath and eagerly beating heart Rod pursued his search.

On one of the walls he found the remains of what had once been garments--part of a hat, that fell in a thousand pieces when he touched it; the dust-rags of a coat and other things that he could not name.