“I didn’t hear what route they took,” answered their guide.  “I reckon they went straight over the mountains.  I don’t believe as how Bill Harney takes to skating.”

“Is this Bill Harney a good sort?” asked Tom.  “If he is, I can tell you he has got into bad company.”

“Bill isn’t so bad when he’s sober.  It’s when he gits full o’ rum that he makes things lively.  He’s a great drinker.”

They were soon on the river, which at this point was fifty to sixty feet wide.  The snow covered a large portion of the surface, but the wind had cleared many a long stretch, and they skated on these, dragging the sleds behind them.  Each sled was packed high with the camping outfit, but they ran along readily.

“I wonder how long we’ll be out,” said Sam, as he skated by Tom’s side.

“I guess that will depend upon what luck we have, Sam.  If we strike the right spot first clip we ought to be back inside of five or six days.”

As the party moved up the river they found the stream wound in and out between the mountains On either side were bare rocky walls or dense patches of timber, with here and there a tiny open space, now piled deep with snowdrifts.

“I see some rabbits ahead!” cried Tom presently.  “Wonder if I can bring them down,” he added, as he unslung his gun.  But long before he could take aim the bunnies were out of sight amid the timber.

“You’ll have to carry your gun in your hand for a shot at them,” came from Dick.  “But be careful, or you may trip up on some frozen twig and shoot somebody.”

Mile after mile was passed, but no further game came to view, much to Tom’s disgust.

“Not much right around here,” said John Barrow, as he saw Tom put his gun back over his shoulder.  “The boys from Timber Run have cleared the ground putty well.  But you’ll see something sure a little further on—­and maybe more’n you bargain for.”

“I’m not afraid of big game, Mr. Barrow.  We faced some pretty bad animals when we were in Africa and out West.”

“I allow that must be so, Tom.  But you want to be careful even so.  A big mountain deer or a bear aint to be fooled with, I can tell you that.”

About eleven o’clock they came to the first falls above Timber Run.  Here the water was frozen into solid masses, but the way was so uneven they found it profitable to take off their skates and “tote” the sleds around the spot.  This necessitated a walk of several hundred feet through the timber skirting the edge of the river.  The way was uncertain, and John Barrow went ahead, to steer the party clear of any danger.

“Finest timber in the world right here,” he observed.  “I can’t see why the timber company don’t get together and put it in the market.  It would fetch a good price.”

“Wait!  I see something in yonder trees!” cried Dick, in a low voice.  “Can you make out what they are?”

“Wild turkeys!” answered the guide.  “Git down behind these bushes.  If we can bag a few of them, we’ll have rich eatin’ for a few days!”