Chapter 22

“I know. I was teasing.” Ansel finished the last of his quail and greens, then got up to set his plate on the table. “When you’re finished, I’ll wash the dishes while you cut up the rabbit. I suspect it’s more than stewed by now.”

Hugh went to check. “I think meat falling off the bones means it is.” He took the pot off the hook, setting it on the table, as Ansel collected the dishes and left the cabin.

“No, Orion,” Hugh said when the dog eyed him and then the pot. “The bones are too small to be safe.” He got down a bowl and began fishing them out. He’d managed to retrieve most of them by the time Ansel returned.

“Once it’s cooled, you should skim off the fat,” Ansel suggested.

“I plan on it. I’ve got some saved already, if it hasn’t gone rancid. If it has, well we’ll start over.”

“And have fried fish for lunch tomorrow. Do you have a fishing rod?”

“No. I use the bow.” Hugh got the case to show him the arrows.