“I don’t believe they came up here,” said Dick after half the distance to the pond had been covered, “I don’t see the least trace of any human being, although I’ve seen the footprints of several wild animals.”

“The wind might have covered the tracks during the night,” was John Barrow’s hopeful response.

“I’d rather lose the treasure, even if it is worth thousands, than have anything happen to Sam and Tom.”

Just before noon they came to a point in the river where it divided into several branches.

“We’ll stop here and put up another sign pole,” said the guide.  “Remember what I said?  All these streams run into the pond and into Perch River.  Now, which one you want, at tudder end, I don’t know.”

“Which is the largest branch?”

“Can’t say, exactly.  This one an’ the one yonder are about the same size, and that one aint much smaller.”

“Well, which do you suppose was the largest years ago?”

“Can’t say that neither, although that one yonder might have been, by the looks o’ the banks.”

“Then let us start on that one.  And if that fails us, we can then try the others.”

They skated to the stream in question and erected a pole in the middle of the ice, upon which a second note was posted.  Having gone to the trouble of chopping a hole for the pole, John Barrow suggested they might try their hand at fishing.

“Might as well stay here a while,” he said.  “If they are behind us, they may catch up.”

Dick was willing, and soon a line was baited and let down into the hole.  It was in the water only a few seconds when the guide felt a bite and drew up a fine fish, weighing at least half a pound.

Dick was anxious to try it, and took the line from John Barrow’s hands.  He was equally successful, and in a short while they had seven fish to their credit, weighing from a quarter to three-quarters of a pound apiece.

“I’m going to tie a fish to the top of the pole,” said Dick.  “They may be hungry when they get here, especially if they miss the pole at our last camping place.”

“They won’t want to eat raw fish, lad.”

“No, and I’m going to put a few matches in a paper and tie it to the fish, so they can cook it, if they wish.”

Dick’s idea was followed out, and once more they went on, up a narrow stream which had many a turn among the cedar brakes and hemlocks which lined either side.  Rocks were likewise numerous, and the lad came to the conclusion that locating the treasure was going to be no easy task.

“It’s rather desolate,” he remarked.  “I wonder what ever possessed that old Goupert to come here?”

“It’s not so desolate in the summer time, Dick.  But I reckon Goupert was a mighty odd stick, as it was.”

At last they rounded a turn in the stream and came in sight of Bear Pond, a long and wide stretch of water located in the very midst of two tall mountains.  The pond was covered with thick ice, and the snow lay upon it in long drifts and ridges.  The ice was blackish and almost as hard as flint.