Bart and Solomon went up the river-bed for some distance. They found no difficulty in going along, for the stream was shallow, and they could wade it in most places. Occasionally they came to deeper places, which they traversed by going round them. At length they reached a place that looked favorable to their designs, and began to try them. A few bites rewarded them, and two or three small trout were soon deposited in their baskets. They now began to enter more into the spirit of the occasion, and continued slowly ascending the stream, stopping sometimes a long while in some particularly good place, till they had exhausted it, and then resuming their tramp. The consequence was, that their baskets soon began to be unpleasantly heavy, and they had to confine themselves more exclusively to one spot, and indulge to a less extent in their wanderings. All this time these two had had no occasion to keep a lookout on each other, for Solomon, with his instinct of fidelity, had no other idea than that of simply following Bart wherever he went. All this time the sky had maintained the same yellowish hue, and was as much overcast as ever. Here and there they reached places where the view upward was more extensive, and their gaze could command a larger part of the sky. They saw rolling clouds which seemed most unmistakably to be smoke, and these they thought the sure indications of some fire, which, judging from these appearances, was larger than usual. Beyond an occasional glance upward, however, and a stray remark, these appearances excited no particular notice on the part of either of them. At length it began to grow somewhat late, and they decided to return. Their long march and still longer fishing excursion had greatly fatigued them; and in going back, they found the distance far greater than they had supposed. At length they recognized the landmark; and here they both flung themselves wearily down upon the bank, and waited for the return of the others. For a long time they waited there. It grew later and later, but there was no sign of either of them. At length they saw some one coming, and as he drew nearer they recognized Pat. He was very much out of breath, and soaking wet from head to foot. “Where’s Phil?” Those were the first words that Pat spoke, and he spoke them in hurried, anxious tones. “Phil!” cried Bart. “Why, don’t you know?” “Hasn’t he got back yit?” said Pat, with something like a wail. “No,” said Bart, as a dark feeling of apprehension came to him. “Och, thin,” cried Pat, “it’s fairly heart-broke I am, so I am; and no one knows what I’ve suffered this blissed day. Sorra one o’ me knows what has become of him. An I’ve been scourin the whole country back’ards an for’ards, an yellin meself hoarse, so that I can’t utther one blissed howl more, so I can’t.” At these startling words, all Pat’s anxiety and more communicated itself to Bart. He hastily questioned Pat about Phil’s disappearance.