The work interested Lew greatly, but Charley had no heart for anything. He had fought hard and apparently his last chance had slipped away from him.
He was very quiet as they made their way through the valley. Even the run in the bottom failed to stir him, though he loved the little mountain streams passionately. Yet he did notice that here, beneath the lofty pines, where the forest mold lay deep and spongy, the brook flowed strongly. It sang as it rushed along between its rugged banks. But there was no music in its song for Charley. So alluring was the stream that Lew wanted to fish, but Charley had no heart even to try for a trout; though it was practically a certainty that there were trout aplenty to be had. Time heals all wounds. It would heal Charley's: but not enough time had yet elapsed for the healing process to begin. At present he could think of nothing but his dismal prospects.
So they went on through the bottom and slowly ascended the opposite mountain. As they had suspected might be the case, it was impossible to distinguish the landmarks they had chosen. The innumerable great trunks of the pines cut off their vision as effectually as a high board fence could have done. But the slope of the land told them which way to go, and the freedom from underbrush made it possible for them to travel in a comparatively straight line. So they reached the crest of the mountain, after a stiff climb, not far from the spot which they had selected.
The summit was sparsely timbered and they had no difficulty either in finding their landmarks or in mapping out their way down the farther slope and across the valley to the gap beyond. This second valley was also well timbered. In the middle of this second valley another fine brook flowed. And here they rested and had a bite to eat, with a cold drink from the stream. Then they filled the canteen again and pressed on. The afternoon was well advanced before they had climbed through the pass and reached the valley that was to be their home for the next few days.
Like the valley in which they had met the forester, this bottom contained some wonderful pines, though it was really a mixed stand of timber with hardwoods beneath and the pine tops rising high above them. There were countless numbers of these mammoth pines that towered a hundred to a hundred and twenty-five feet in air. The hardwoods, though shut out from some of the light, were also wonderful for size and vigor. It was a splendid example of a "two-storied-forest." The resulting shade was so dense that it was like twilight at the ground level. And the stream that went rushing among the trees was a joy to behold. Deep, dark, crystal clear, and almost as cold as ice, it was an ideal haunt for trout.
By the time they reached it, Charley had recovered his spirits. "Oh boy!" he cried, when they reached the margin of the run. "Look at this brook." As he stopped and dipped his hand in the water, he added, "It's cold enough to freeze a fellow. Thank goodness, there isn't any underbrush here. We won't have to wade. I'll wager this place is full of fish."
Hardly had he spoken before a great trout darted across the stream, almost at their feet. Charley extended his rod over the water and waved it vigorously a few times. Instantly trout darted out from a dozen different points.
"Gee whiz!" shouted Charley. "Did you see 'em, Lew? I can hardly wait to get a line in."
"We've got to get our camp made before we do any fishing," replied Lew. "Let's hustle up and find a good camp site."
They walked rapidly up the valley, keeping a few yards back from the brook so as not to alarm the trout.