"Same here," replied Jed. "But, listen! What's that?"
"Sounds like water running. Queer we didn't hear it before."
"We were too excited, I guess. There must be a stream around here, and maybe there are fish in it."
They found just below where they had spent the night a swift mountain stream foaming along over a rocky bed. Jed and Will had not gotten over the habit, formed while on the farm, of carrying hooks and lines in their pockets. It was short work to cut poles, adjust their tackle, and, with bait of worms, dug with their pocket knives, they were soon casting in. The fish of that stream must have been very hungry, for they took the bait at once, and soon the lads had several beauties. These they cleaned, and broiled by holding them in front of the fire on sharp sticks.
"They'd be better if we had salt," said Will.
"Use gunpowder," suggested Jed, and they did not find it a bad substitute, when they had taken some of the black grains from a cartridge, for salt-peter is the principal ingredient of some powders, and it is very salty.
"Now suppose we get back to camp," suggested Will, after their simple breakfast. "I suppose Gabe is back by this time, thinking how foolish we were to disobey him."
"Well, we did it for the best," said Jed. "He can't blame us."
"Of course not. Do you think we can find the way back?"
Jed did not answer. He was looking about him. They were on a totally unfamiliar trail, and he did not know which way to go. He admitted as much to his brother.