y be but a few hundred dollars--not enough
to pay us, really, for our trouble."

"Well, even a few hundred dollars aint to be sneezed at."

"We did much better out West, when we located our mining claim," said
Dick. "But then we came up here for fun as much as for treasure."

The tramp to where the next stream leading from Bear Pond was located
was by no means easy. They had to crawl around a tangled mass of
brushwood and over more rough rocks, until they gained the bosom of the
pond itself. Then they skirted the shore for several hundred yards.

"Hold on!" cried Dick suddenly. "Rabbits!" And up came his gun, and he
blazed away. Sam also fired, and between them they brought down four
rabbits, which had just run out of a hollow log a short distance ahead.

"Good shots!" cried the guide enthusiastically. "Couldn't have been
better. I see you are used to hunting. Many a city chap would have
missed 'em entirely. I had one feller up here year before last wanted to
bring down big game, but when he saw a deer he got the shakes and didn't
think of shootin' till the game was out o' sight."

The four rabbits were plump and heavy, and the boys shouldered them with
much satisfaction. Then the onward course was resumed, until Dick again
called a halt.

"Here is where we'll make trial No. 2," he said. "Now see if any of you
can locate the blasted tree in this neighborhood."

All began to search around in various directions, and presently Sam let
out a call.

"Here's a fallen tree!"

"Struck by lightning?" queried Dick.

"I don't know about that. Perhaps Mr. Barrow can tell us."

The others walked over, and the guide cleared the snow from the upper
end of the fallen timber.

"Not much signs of being struck by anything but the wind," he announced.
"Still, I aint sure."

"We'll try from this point, anyway," said Tom. "No use of missing any
chance, however small." And on this the others agreed.

Once again they began to pace off the ground as before. Here the task
was as difficult as ever, as they had to pass through some timber
thickly intergrown with brush.

"I suppose in Goupert's time this timber was small," observed the guide.

The tramping around was beginning to tire them, and soon Sam had to stop
to rest and get back his wind.

"I feel like a regular snow-plow," he gasped. "Tell you what, it takes
the wind right out of a chap."

"You rest while we go ahead," suggested Tom, but Sam did not wish to do
this.