Tad, hatchet in hand, started for the creek. He turned downstream after satisfying himself which was downstream, followed slowly by Stacy. Butler blazed the way, turning down bushes, marking trees with conspicuous chops clear through the bark to the white of the wood itself, so that there might be no difficulty in finding their way back in case they desired to do so. To Tad's satisfaction they soon came out on the shore of a lake, or rather a pond it was in size. This pond gave them an open space, taking away in a measure that shut-in feeling that had so oppressed them under the tall pines.
"Here is the place for the camp, Stacy," announced Tad joyously. "What better could a man ask for a summer resort?"
"No, this isn't so bad," admitted the fat boy. "Where do you want the camp?"
"In a little way from the shore. We might as well make it permanent, for we may be here some time."
In the meantime Tad was industriously chopping away, cutting down small trees for the lean-to. A busy two hours followed. Stacy got the browse together for the beds. Tad chopped down a larger tree for the bed pieces of their fireplace, and, by the time they had finished, the day was drawing to a close. They had not finished any too soon, but they had constructed as neat and practical a camp as ever grew under the skilled hands of an old woodsman. Tad was justly proud of their efforts.
Supper was not a bounteous meal and neither lad overloaded his stomach, but the boys were cheerful and the ponies content, for there was plenty for the animals to eat. Tad had gotten in a great pile of poles for night-wood, so that they were pretty well supplied with everything except food.
Chunky dropped asleep on his browse bed under the comforting warmth of the fire soon after supper, in fact before Tad had finished with the supper work, which was not very arduous, the boys having only a few tin dishes that hung suspended from their saddles. They had their rifles, revolvers and hunting knives, all of which might prove useful in their present predicament.
Tad sat down by the fire to think. He sat long, going over all the possibilities of their case, figuring on the probabilities of their being found. Tad knew that Cale Vaughn would never rest until he had found them, once the guide knew that the two boys were lost, so Butler decided that his wisest course would be to remain where he was, skirmish for food, and try to content himself and his comrade until help arrived.
A crashing sound brought him to his feet. The sound was unlike any he had ever heard before. Tad's first impulse was to run, then, pulling himself sharply together, he stood listening.
"Oh, pshaw, it's a big tree falling," he muttered.