"Isn't it a whacker! Odd that
I didn't notice it when we came up. Could we have passed it and not
seen it?"
[Illustration: "I DON'T REMEMBER THAT BIG ROCK"]
"I suppose we must have," Bob answered. "I don't remember it,
though. Everything looks queer and different in the storm. It's a
regular squall. How quickly it came!"
"Can you still see our tracks?"
"No. But of course we're right; I couldn't miss my way after coming
over this path so many times."
"Can you see the blazes on the trees?"
"No, silly. How could I when they are all plastered over thick with
snow?" was Bob's scornful retort. He was silent for a moment. "But
don't you worry," he declared. "I am certain we came this way--at
least I _think_ we did."
His tone, however, was less convincing.
They went on.
"We don't seem to be coming out anywhere, do we?" Van finally asked.
"No."
"Didn't we pass a little clearing somewhere on the way up?"
"Yes, there was one."
"Have we passed it?"
"No."
"Then it's ahead of us."
"It ought to be. I say, suppose we stop a minute and brush the snow
off these trees so to make sure we really are on the trail."
"A bully idea!"
The boys put down their packs and reconnoitred.
"There don't seem to be any marks on these trees," Van asserted
after an interval of search.
"But there must be."
"Find them then--if you can."
Bob nervously scrutinized several gnarled trunks.
"You're right, Van," he owned at last.
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