way by which we can reach the other side," said
Fred, after they had walked a few rods up and down the stream.

"I don't obsarve any way mesilf," was the response of Terry.

"But there _must_ be, for how could father and the rest have crossed?"

"They may have put up a bridge."

"But where is the bridge? There are no signs of any thing of the kind,"
said the bewildered Fred; "they couldn't have made a bridge without
leaving it behind."

"The high water has swipt it away."

Fred stood surveying the stream and the banks, for several minutes,
during which he once more walked back and forth, but he was right when
he said that the place had never been spanned by even the simplest
structure, for it could not have been done without leaving some traces
behind.

This being the case, the mystery was greater than ever; for it was
certain that at that hour their friends were many miles distant on the
other side.

"This is a little ahead of any thing I ever heard tell of," remarked
Fred, taking off his cap and scratching his head, after the fashion of
Terry when he was puzzled.

"It couldn't be," ventured the latter, who also had his cap in his hand
and was stirring up his flaxen locks, "that they carried a bridge along
with 'em."

"Impossible!"

"That's what I thought, as me sicond cousin remarked whin they told him
his uncle carried his shillaleh a half mile and passed two persons
without beltin' 'em over the head."

"There's something about this which I can not understand."

Terry turned and looked at him in his quizzical way and solemnly
extended his hand. Fred shook it as he wished, though he was far from
feeling in a sportive mood.

"They _must_ have crossed," he added, replacing his cap with some
violence, compressing his lips and shaking his head in a determined way;
"do you walk up the bank, while I make a search in the other direction;
we _must_ find the explanation."

The proposition was acted upon, Terry clambering carefully along the
slippery bank and over the rocks, until he was fully a hundred yards
from his friend, who busied himself in doing the same thing in the
opposite direction.

All at once the Irish lad shouted. Looking up to him, Fred saw that he
was beckoning him to approach.

"I knew there must be something of the kind," thought Fred, who after
much labor placed himself beside his friend.

To his disappointment, Terry had paused before the worst part of the
series of cascades. It wa