Fishing in the vicinity of the lake was not very good, so the boys pushed further and further up the brook, until they reached a point where there was a little waterfall and a pool of considerable size. Here fishing was better, and soon they had quite a number of specimens of the finny tribe to their credit.
"Come on, Dave, let's go up a little farther," pleaded Phil. "I'd like to see what this brook looks like beyond the falls."
"All right, I'll go," answered our hero. "What about you fellows?" he asked, of the others.
"I'll stay here and rest," announced Roger. "I'm tired of scrambling over the rocks."
"So am I," agreed Ben. Shadow and Luke also said they would remain in the vicinity of the pool.
Dave and Phil found it no easy task to follow the brook, which wound in and out among the rocks and brushwood. At one point they had to do some hard climbing, and once the shipowner's son slipped and came close to spraining an ankle.
"Say, I don't believe I'll go much farther, after all," declared Phil. "This is rough and no mistake!"
"It is better walking a little farther on, Phil," announced Dave. "Come on, don't give up this way! Maybe we'll find some extra large fish up there."
Once more they set out, and soon found themselves in a small clearing, backed up by a cliff fifteen or twenty feet in height, and overgrown with brushwood and trailing vines.
"Hark! What was that?" exclaimed Phil, as both came to a halt preparatory to casting their lines into the stream.