They ate only half, prudently putting the rest back in the gunnysack for future reference. "Gee, I feel some better," sighed Skeeter, whose appetite was ever a marvel to his friends since it never seemed to have the slightest effect on his extreme leanness. Oscar always said: "That there young Marster Skeeter eats so much it makes him po' to carry it." "Do you boys know exactly where we are going?" asked Lil. They had walked a long distance since the distribution of burdens and now had come to a place where the trail went directly down the mountainside. "Of course we do! Josh said that when we got to a place where the path suddenly went down we were almost over the cabin where Jude Hanford lives. Didn't he, Frank?" "He sure did!" "But there was a place back further where a path forked off. I saw it, didn't you, Lucy?" "Yes, but I thought it was maybe just a washed place." "This is right, I'm sure," said Skeeter confidently, so the young people clambered down the mountainside following Skeeter's lead. The path went almost exactly perpendicularly down the mountain for fifty yards and then, as is the way with mountain paths, it changed its mind and started up the mountain again. "This is a terribly silly path," declared the self-constituted guide, "but I reckon it will start down again soon. Josh said that Jude Hanford lives almost at the foot of the mountain." "Let's keep a-going; there's no use in turning back," said Frank. "This path is obliged to lead somewhere." "Maybe it leads to the brigand's cave," shivered Lil. "Which way is home?" asked Lucy. "That way!" "Over there!" "Due north from here!" But as the three of her companions all pointed in different directions, Lucy laughed at them and chose an entirely different point of the compass as her idea of where Camp Carter was situated. They had been walking for hours and as far as they could tell had not got off of their own mountain. No one seemed to be the least worried about being lost, so Lucy calmed her fears, which were not very great. How could they get lost? All they had to do was retrace their steps if they did not find Jude Hanford's cabin, where the frying-sized chickens and the roasting ears were supposed to thrive. "Let's eat again," suggested the ever empty Skeeter. They had come to a wonderful mountain stream, one they had never seen before in their rambles. It came dashing down the incline singing a gay song until it found a temporary resting place in a deep hole which seemed to be hollowed out of the living rock. "What a place to swim!" they exclaimed in a breath. "I bet it's cold, though, cold as flugians." Lil trailed her fingers through the icy water and a little fish rose to the surface and gave a nibble. "Look! Look! Isn't he sweet?" "Let's fish," suggested Lucy. "Fish with what? Guns?" asked Skeeter scornfully.