AS the milder weather settled down to stay, Don began thinking of the river and the fun of watching the piled up logs gradually sink down into the water, so he spoke to Dot about it.
"Let's go down to the river on Saturday morning and play," suggested he.
"Oh, it's awful far, Don, an' we won't get back to dinner," objected Dot.
"We'll get Cookee to give us something to eat and we can walk slowly so you won't get tired. The roads are all cut out now, and there is no snow," persisted Don.
"All right. I'll go. Goin' to bring the others?"
"'Course not!" retorted Don.
Saturday morning was warm and clear and Don ran into Cookee's kitchen after breakfast with a request for some lunch as Dot and he were going to have some fun. Cook willingly gave lunch—glad to have the twins out of the way for the morning while the baking was done.
Don and Dot hurried off without being seen by anyone. Mike had kept an eye on them since their escapade of the Jumpin' Jane, but he was busy showing Babs the bear cub's sharp white teeth and warning the baby about playing with them when no one else was about.
The timber-jacks were cutting way back beyond the road that ran past the clearing, and the twins had every opportunity to get down to the river without being seen. Even the road that had been cut from the forest to the river was now abandoned by the teamsters, for they had cut a new road some miles the other side of the old one and had it paved with logs to keep the wheels of the low truck from sinking into the soft thawing earth.
It took the twins some hours to gain the river-side, for the walking was troublesome. In some places where the ice and snow still clung to the exposed knolls, it was slippery, but in others, where the thaw had melted the frost and poured its waters into the glades, they had to skirt the pools or go through them. Consequently, by the time they reached the river, they were tired and wet to the knees.