e would finish the task some other day.
Then the clear waters of the brook tempted him. Just above the
cabin was a deep pool which may have been the home of the beaver
in an older time. Now it was undisturbed, and the waters were so
pure that he could see the sand and rock on the bottom.

Still tingling from the dust, he took off his clothes and dived
head foremost into the pool. He came up shivering and
sputtering. It was certainly the coldest water into which he
had ever leaped! After such a dash one might lie on a slab of
ice to warm. Dick forgot that every drop in the brook had come
from melting snows far up on the peaks, but, once in, he resolved
to fight the element. He dived again, jumped up and down, and
kicked and thrashed those waters as no beaver had ever done.
Gradually he grew warm, and a wonderful exhilaration shot through
every vein. Then he swam around and around and across and
across the pool, disporting like a young white water god.

Dick was thoroughly enjoying himself, but when he began to feel
cold again in seven or eight minutes he sprang out, ran up and
down the bank, and rubbed himself with bunches of leaves until he
was dry. After he had dressed, he felt that he had actually
grown in size and strength in the last half hour.

He was now ravenously hungry. His absorption in his explorations
and discoveries had kept him from thinking of such a thing as
food until this moment, but when Nature finally got in her claim
she made it strong and urgent. He had brought cold supplies with
him, upon which he feasted, sitting in the doorway of the cabin.
Then he noticed the lateness of the hour. Shadows were
falling across the snow on the western peaks and ridges. The
golden light of the sun was turning red, and in the valley the
air was growing misty with the coming twilight.

He resolved to pass the night in the cabin. He secured the
window shutter again, tied up the fallen door on rude bark
hinges, and fastened it on the inside with a stick--hasps for
the bar were there yet--but before retiring he took a long look
in the direction in which Albert and their camp lay.

A great range of mountains lay between, but Dick felt that he
could almost see his brother, his camp fire, and the pine
alcove. He was Albert's protector, and this would be the first
entire night in the mountains in which the weaker boy had been
left alone, but Dick was not apprehensive about him. He believed
that their