At the top of the first rise of ground they came to a spot that was somewhat bare, and here they halted to look back.

“There are the small fellows!” cried Sam, pointing with his finger.  “And the big ones am not far behind.”

“They are speeding along in good shape,” was Fred’s comment.  “Come on, before they spot us!” And they hurried up the next hill.  Here they encountered a number of rocks, and were brought to a halt several times to determine which was the best path to pursue.

“By jinks! the farmer was right —­ we are getting lost!” said Sam presently.

“Where is the path?”

“I think it is to the right.”

“And I think it is to the left.”

At this both lads looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

“It can’t be in both directions, Fred.”

“That’s true, and I am sure I am right.”

“All right, we’ll try it,” and they did, but it was a good ten minutes before the path came into view again, and meanwhile the first of the hounds drew dangerously close.

But the game was by no means over, as we shall see.

CHAPTER XIII

WHAT THE GAME OF HARE AND HOUND LED T0

“What a glorious view!”

It was Sam who uttered the words.  The top of the mountain had been reached at last, and the boys were feasting their eyes on the grand panorama spread on all sides.

“How beautiful the lake, looks!” said Fred.

“And how far one can see!”

“It’s a pity we didn’t bring a pair of glasses with us, Fred. But, say, I’m hungry.”

“So am I. Let us eat that lunch at once and then start on the return.”

Each had brought a sandwich along, and these were soon consumed and washed down with a drink of cold water from a spring not far away.  Then on they went, over the top of the mountain, and along a path which they thought would bring them around its western base.  It was now four o’clock, leaving them two hours in which to get back to Putnam Hall.

About a third of the distance down the mountain side had been covered, and Sam was slightly in advance, when suddenly he uttered a cry of alarm.

“Look out, Fred!”

“What is it?”

“A snake!”

“Where?”

“Over yonder!  And he is coming for us!”

Sam was right; it was a snake —­ an angry looking reptile all of six feet long, and as thick as Sam’s wrist.  It hissed savagely as it advanced, first upon Sam and then upon Fred.

If there was one thing which could fill Fred Garrison full of terror it was a snake, and the yell he gave would have outmatched that of an Indian on the warpath.

“Save me!” he screamed.  “Don’t let him touch me!” “Jump back!” cried Sam, and leaped himself.  Then, seeing a tall rock handy, he sprang upon it, and here Fred joined him.