Finally, I concluded that the quickest way to settle the question was to go and see.  I had my revolver, and if it proved a real bear I would not this time aim “any place; just at the bear.”  I hurried on trying to keep the disturbing object in sight, but I could not.  When the valley was reached it was nowhere to be seen, and I concluded I had again been deceived.

The storm had now come on, and there was still no sign of the canoes.  I decided that if I must be drenched and devoured, for the flies were fearful, I might as well be doing something interesting.  I set off for the ridge on the further side of the lake with something of the feeling a child has who runs away from home, for it had been constantly impressed upon me that I must never go away alone, and I recognized the justice of the demand; but I meant to be careful, and probably should not go very far.  Wading across the brook, which drains the lake to the river, I climbed up the ridge and was delighted to get a fine view of the falls.  I went on to the top, but still there was no sign of the canoes, and I walked northward along the ridge.  It was like a great mound of rock set down on the surface of the earth, its top rounded and smooth and bare, while on either side it dropped abruptly almost to the level of the lake, ending in a precipice a mile from where I had climbed it.  When I reached its northern end I could see the little bay to which the men had carried the outfit.

Imagine my astonishment when, looking across, I saw the two canoes turned upside down over the stuff to keep it dry, and the men around a fire drinking tea.  I was not a little annoyed to find that they were quite so ready to leave me alone in the thunderstorm, knowing that I had nothing to protect me, till suddenly I remembered how I had been advised to take my rubber shirt—­and then I thought I understood.  I was to have a lesson in taking good advice when I could get it.

I laughed a little and thought:  “Oh!  I know something better than that.  This afternoon I shall I ’go where I like and do what I please,’ like the little fly, and have ‘one good time.’”

Taking out my revolver I fired two shots to let them know where I was, and started back along the top of the ridge to look for a place to climb down.  There was a still higher ridge between me and the river, and I knew that from it I could see more.  I stopped to take a photograph of a great boulder set on top of some smaller rocks, and while doing so heard two rifle shots from the other shore.  Evidently they had just discovered where I was.  I fired once more in reply, and then disappeared down the other side of the mountain.