"That thing would never burn; but the brush will. Sling me the knife and I'll cut an armful. Let's build it in that little rocky shelter. Thanks to my camping training I'm right at home on this job." Van's boast was no idle one. Soon the fire was crackling merrily and the chops and bacon were sizzling in the frying-pan. Bob unpacked the sandwiches and the thermos bottle of hot chocolate. It was a regal luncheon. How good everything tasted! "I believe I was cold," Van admitted, rubbing his hands over the dying embers of the blaze. "But I'm warm as toast now. Is there any more grub left to eat?" "Not a crumb--why? Are you still hungry?" queried Bob who was packing up the camping kit. Van chuckled. "Well, not exactly. I only thought we ought not to waste anything." Bob glanced up and laughed; then his face grew sober. "I say, there's a snowflake!" he cried. "And another! Jove, Van, it's begun to snow!" "We better be getting down, I suppose," drawled Van. "Just that, old man; fast as we can, too. Come on." "What's your hurry? It will be a lark." "It will be no lark if it snows much--I'll tell you that," replied Bob seriously. "Besides, the folks will worry. Come ahead." They turned back down the trail. The snowfall increased. "You can hardly see our tracks already," Bob called over his shoulder. "And this wind is fierce. I had no idea it would snow. It is awfully wet and sticky snow, too; see how it clings to the trees." They sped on. The descent was far easier than the climb, and they could go quickly. "I don't remember that big rock," exclaimed Van suddenly, pointing to a huge boulder that fronted them. "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."