“Now we will continue on our way up the lake front until we get away from the neighborhood of these farmhouses,” said Harry. “I don’t believe any one wants dinner.”
“Not just yet for me!” groaned Boxy. “Last night filled me up as full as a tick.”
“Ditto,” put in Andy. “Let us walk ourselves hungry first.”
And so they set off on their skates up the lake, keeping as closely to the shore as the snowdrifts would permit.
By sundown they calculated that they had covered six miles. They were now in a very wild neighborhood, full of rocks and cliffs and a heavy growth of timber.
“This ought to be just the thing,” said Harry, as they turned in to shore and came to a halt. “There ought to be plenty of game back of that rocky ground.”
“That is true,” said Jack. “What do you think, fellows, shall we look for a camping spot here?”
They agreed that no better place could be found. Ten minutes later they were behind the shelter of a clump of bushes, and then Jack and Boxy went off to find a suitable location for a permanent camp for the balance of the outing.
CHAPTER XXXVI.
THE BLACK BEAR.
What Boxy and Jack thought would be a splendid shelter was found under a large, shelving series of rocks, nearly a hundred feet from the lake front. Here was an opening six feet wide by fifteen feet deep. The flooring was of smooth stone, covered with a great mass of leaves, which had been blown in by the wind. Of course, the snow had likewise entered, but this was soon cleaned out.