It was just about a month after leaving Watertown when, one day, an incident occurred which materially changed all the plans of the two boys who had so strangely become members of the expedition.
They had orders to prepare for a new move that night, and early in the day had gone back by the route they had come to a place where a rocky formation in the landscape had suggested the idea of successful bird hunting.
Several eagles had been noticed by the boys, and it was to capture one of these that they determined to make the expedition on their own account.
The weather had become mild, and the snow had almost disappeared. Mr. Hunter warned them not to go too far from the camp, as a storm was threatened.
Provided with ropes and snares, Will and Tom reached the spot they had in view, and for over an hour wandered about the place.
At last, some distance away, they made out several large birds circling about a rocky point of land.
Will suggested that they visit the spot, and this took them still farther away from the camp.
Clambering over the rocks, exploring this and that secluded aerie, and endeavoring to snare some of the birds, which they thought to be eagles, the hours passed so rapidly away that dusk grew upon them before they realized how the day had advanced.
“Why, Will, it’s getting dark!” suddenly exclaimed Tom.
They abandoned their efforts at catching the birds and descended to the level plain beneath.