They rested for a while before starting down the hill, and after that Rex seemed to get his second wind and it was only a little past ten o’clock when they reached the bank of the stream where Bob had taken his plunge two days before. The ice had, in the meantime, gone out of the stream and the lake as well. “How, in the world, are we ever going to get across?” Jack asked as he gazed at the swollen stream, the waters of which were rushing madly by. “That seems to be the main question, just at present,” Bob agreed as he threw his pack to the ground and slowly scratched his head. “If it was summer we could wade across, but believe me that water is mighty wet and cold. I know, because I tried it,” and he told Rex of his experience on the up trip. “Do you know how far it would be to go around it?” Rex asked. “No, but judging from its size here, it would be a good many miles,” Bob replied. “Well, there’s only one way so far as I can see,” Jack declared. “Well, spring it,” Bob said. “You see, up the stream a bit there are some pines growing pretty close to the edge,” he began pointing with his finger. “Now, if we can find one that will do, what’s the matter with cutting it down so that it’ll fall across the drink and then we’ll have a bridge?” “I guess it’s the only way, so let’s get busy.” “Just a minute till I get the ax out of my pack.” It did not take them long to find a tree which Bob declared would do, and they at once set to work. It was hard and slow cutting as the ax was a small one not adapted to felling so large a piece of timber. But, by taking turns, they accomplished it in a little more than a half hour. The tree fell true and, as the banks were high on both sides of the stream they had a bridge well above the rushing water. It did not take them long to make the crossing and soon they were all safe on the other side. “All that work just to use it for a minute,” Jack declared in a disgusted tone as he leaped to the bank, the last one over. “That’s often the way in this world, son,” Rex said soberly. “We’ll be fortunate if things always turn out as well.” By this time the snow had softened so that the crust would no longer bear their weight and they were forced to take to their snow-shoes. Each day lowered the snow perceptibly, but it was still too deep to wade through. However, it did not get actually wet and so did not greatly impede their progress and they continued to make fair time. They camped that night not far from where Bob had shot the moose, and were again on their way at daybreak. CHAPTER IX HELD UP “Are you sure this is the place?” Jack asked a little later. “Sure. That’s the tree we climbed, but where’s the moose?” Bob replied.