We have got more than we can take with us, anyhow.

So I am going back with a leg of venison, and on my return I'll bring all the wood I can pack." "But you might lose the way," objected White.
"No one could lose so plain a trail as the one we have just made," replied Cabot, scornfully.
"Suppose it should be dark before you got back ?" "There will be three hours of daylight yet, and I won't be gone more than two at the most.

Anyhow, I must get some of this meat to those starving children." White's protests were ineffectual before Cabot's strong resolve, and, as soon as a forequarter of the caribou could be made ready, the latter get forth on his errand of mercy.

Although he had no difficulty in finding the trail, it was so much harder to walk with a heavy load than it had been without one that a full hour had passed before he again came within sight of the lonely tent in the forest.
One of the children who was outside spied him and announced his coming, so that when he entered the tent he again found a frightened group huddled together and apprehensively awaiting him.

But they were stronger now, and the children uttered little squeals of joy at sight of the meat he had brought, while even the haggard face of their mother was lighted by a fleeting smile.
For the pleasure of seeing the children eat Cabot toasted a few strips of venison over the coals, and these smelled so good that he cut off some more for himself.