t,
and maybe we can do some hunting. How about it, Anvik?"

"Anvik not care," was the guide's reply.

After breakfast the next morning the Professor set off at once.

"Now, fellows," said Tad, "I propose that Stacy and I follow that ravine
to the left and Ned and Walter go to the right. From the formation I
should say that some time late in the day we ought to meet. It's wild in
those passes, and we should get game."

After arranging that three quick shots should announce the finding of
game and that the distress signal of one shot, a pause, then two quick
shots should be a call for help, the boys set off, each carrying
biscuit, a drinking cup, and matches, besides their rifles.

The boys tramped all morning without sighting game.

After a short rest the two boys went on again, bearing more to the left.
As they trudged on the sound of rushing water was borne to their ears.
Then they came out on a broad stream, a torrent that came from the top
of three lofty, ice-covered mountains.

"Let's work up toward that pass," suggested Tad, wishing to see the
gulch from which the stream was flowing.

They had worked their way upstream for half a mile when Chunky yelled:

"Look there! What's that?"

Tad saw a hideous head projecting above the bushes. At first he was
startled, then he laughed.

"That's a totem pole, Chunky. They're put up usually in behalf of the
Indian dead to drive the spirits away. Let's go and look at it."

The totem pole was standing at the entrance of a second narrow gulch.
Sand and shale rock were heaped up at the entrance.

"A stream flowed through here at one time, Stacy. I imagine that it was
the same body of water we've just been looking at."

"Yeh," said Stacy absently. "Say, Tad, let's see who can first hit that
evil-looking thing with a stone."

Tad laughed and stooped to pick up a stone. As he did so, he noticed an
arrow cut into the rock at one side of the gulch, the point of the arrow
aimed up the gulch.

"That's queer," muttered the boy. "I suppose it's an Indian sign. This
is a place of many mysteries." He stooped to pick up the rusty-looking
stone that had caught his glance. It was worn full of holes as if by the
action of water and when he took it in his hand its heaviness aroused
his curiosity. Opening his knife, he dug into the stone.

Tad's face flushed a vivid red, and he uttered a sharp exclamation.

"What is it?" demanded Stacy.

"Nothing much. Maybe I've made a disc