Somewhere he had picked up a piece of bark more than a foot long, which was rolled into a cylinder. He lay down on the log near the middle of the brook and began to look down into the brown and rather cloudy water through this odd spyglass.
"What can you see through that thing?" asked Russ.
"Sh! Wait. Don't let 'em hear you," warned Frane, Junior. Then he added: "Get down here 'side o' me. When I spot him I'll let you squint through this too."
Russ understood now that his companion was trying to see one of the fish that lived in the stream—perhaps the "big fellow" Frane had spoken of. Russ grew quite excited and he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He knelt down beside Frane, and finally lay right down on his stomach and likewise peered over the side of the log.
The log-bridge had been made quite flat on its upper surface with a broadaxe, and all the bark had long since worn off. It was all of thirty feet long, but it was just as firm as the arch of a stone bridge.
"There!" whispered Frane. "I saw a flicker then. Yep! He's there! Right below the edge of that stone!"
"I don't see anything but water. I can't even see the bottom," observed Russ, in a low voice, too.
"Don't you see him below the stone?"
"I don't even see the stone," complained Russ.
"Hush! He'll hear you. I see his tail wiggle. He's a big cat."