Josiah Socket and Mark found it no easy matter to make their way to the trading camp known as Four Monkeys. The distance was only forty miles, but the trail was rough and uncertain, and more than once they were afraid they had taken to a false road.
"If we have gone astray goodness only knows where we will fetch up," groaned Josiah Socket, at the end of the first day's journey. "We'll be hopelessly lost, I reckon."
"I think we are on the right trail or close to it," answered Mark, hopefully.
They encamped that night under some thick cedar trees, building a fire close by, where they cooked such a meal as their rations afforded. They had seen no game but wild ducks that had been too far off to bring down.
At daybreak they were astir again and after a hasty breakfast mounted and pressed on as before.
"We covered all of twenty miles yesterday," said Mark. "And that being so, we ought to reach the trading camp by night."
"Let us keep on till we do," answered Josiah Socket, who had not relished the camp in the open in such wintry weather.
They pushed the horses as much as possible, merely stopping for a short rest and a meal at noon. They soon reached a stream the old miner had mentioned, and just at sundown saw smoke at a distance, coming from the chimney of a log cabin to which was attached a long shack or shed.
"Hurrah! here is the place we are looking for!" cried Mark. "Here we are at Four Monkeys at last."
There were seven cabins in the camp, all located near the river, which was frozen over completely and ridged with snowdrifts. Four of the cabins showed signs of life, the others appeared to be deserted.