There was a brief but eloquent silence, which Tom dispelled cheerily.
"The first job is to look for water," said he. "Let's explore a little."
They left the hut, but before they went Tom picked up an old tin pail that lay on the floor in a corner. He did not explain what he wanted this for. As he had expected, where the luxuriant growth flourished, was a stream which ran down crystal clear and cold as ice from the snow mountains to the sea.
The sight of this made the boys forget all their troubles temporarily. They lay flat on their stomachs and drank to repletion. Never had anything tasted half so good as the waters of that mountain stream. Their thirst quenched, Tom methodically filled his pail with water and then started back.
"What are you going to do?" demanded Jack in some astonishment.
"Clean out the hut and get ready for supper while you fellows catch some fish."
"Fish for supper? Where?" demanded Jack.
"Right in this creek. I saw them dart off when we came down, but they will soon be back."
"How about hooks?"