the top was more open. At last
they stood on the very summit.

"I wonder where our landmark is," queried Lew, flashing his light this way
and that. "I understand now why we saw it so plainly from below. There
were no standing trees to hide it. We never saw it from so far away
before."

The landmark was a great, upright rock like a huge chimney. It was not far
distant and presently Lew found it. The boys made their way to it.

"Now," said Lew, with a sigh of relief, "we go straight down. We should
come to the brook flowing from the spring in a few minutes. We'll have to
make it soon or I'll die of thirst."

They started down the slope. The fire had swept over the summit and the
way before them was like the area they had just crossed. But they were now
going down-hill and it was far easier to force their way. A few yards at a
time they advanced, now held back by a fallen log or turned aside by
dense entanglements of prostrate trunks.

Presently Lew gave a cry. "Do you see that big stone like an altar,
Charley?" he called, turning the light on a great rock. "That's the stone
where we made our fire the last time we were here. It stands within
twenty-five feet of the brook."

"Thank goodness!" answered Charley. "My back is about broken. This pack
weighs a ton! And I'll die if I don't get water soon."

Recklessly they pushed forward, almost running in their eager haste.

"Here we are," exulted Lew, a moment later. "Here's the brook."

Before him he could dimly make out the depression in the earth where the
stream ran. He dropped his pack and ran forward, then threw himself flat
in the darkness and felt in the stream bed for a pool deep enough to drink
from. His fingers touched only dry sand and stones.

"The light, Charley," he panted. "Bring the light, quick."

His comrade flung his own pack on the earth and ran forward to the bank of
the stream. He turned his light downward and flashed it right and left
along the bed of the brook. There was no answering sparkle of light. The
bed of the brook was not even moist. The spring had gone dry.

Chapter IV

In the Burned Forest

The two boys were almost stunned by their discovery. For a moment neither
spoke. Indeed neither dared to speak. Their disappointment was so keen,
their thirst so intense, that both boys were near to tears. But presently
they got command of themselves.

"I knew it had been a mighty dry season," said Lew, in amazement, "but I
never