The country through which the boys were now travelling was as desolate and uncanny as anything which the world can show. They were crossing a belt of forest between the forks of a great stream, one arm of which they crossed in the morning. Between the two streams a great fire had raged some years ago, and range after range of rolling hills lay before them covered with tall trees charred to a cinder, yet standing upright still--grey, unburied skeletons of the past. In some places a tree which had once been nearly two hundred feet in height still reared a great grey spire towards heaven, and yet a few yards from the ground you could see that fire and weather between them had eaten the trunk almost through, so that its balance alone seemed to keep it upright. All through the brûlé, as this burnt forest is called, the trails are blocked by fallen timber. At every breeze a score of them come crashing down, and hardly a minute goes by without a snap like a rifle-shot to remind you that it is merely by an interposition of Providence that each of the great pines along your path has not fallen upon you as you passed. The difficulty of getting pack animals through a forest of this kind is considerable, although they will jump and crawl like cats; and the walking is weary work even for the strongest man, where at one moment you have to balance along the stem of a fallen pine, or climb over a log ten feet high, and the next have your pants caught by the point of a sharp rampike which tears them to shreds and perhaps takes a foot or two of skin with it. 'I am afraid Texan was right,' said Dick as they plodded along, while the sun was setting slowly in the west, 'those clouds are coming up uncommon fast, and it's main dark for three o'clock.' Winthrop was leading 'the Cradle,' and Towzer was walking alongside of him, and when Dick spoke he spoke to Snap, who had fallen a bit behind. 'Don't you agree, Snap?' he said after a pause, and as no answer came he looked round. 'Hulloh! Why, where in thunder have you got to?' he cried. 'Here! hold on there in front. Where's Snap?' The boys pulled up and looked round. Not five minutes before they had seen him; now, though they could see plainly amongst the grey, bare poles, there was no sign of him. 'Snap! hi, Snap!' they cried; and faint and far away an echo seemed to say 'halloa.' 'Was that an answer?' said Dick; 'here, dang your skin, hold up there,' he added, giving 'the Cradle' an angry dig in the ribs, to induce that animal to stop pawing the ground and snorting. 'Now shout agin, Frank, and mebbe this brute will let us hear if he answers.' 'Snap! halloa, halloa there, Snap!' cried Frank, and again from far away came an answering halloa, very feeble and faint, but still recognisable as Snap's voice. 'Why, he's underground,' said Towzer. 'Yes, I reckon he is,' said Dick; 'I hope he ain't much hurt.' 'Why, do you know where he is?' asked both boys.