Away they went, deeper and deeper into the great forest that covered the side of the mountain. A pleasant place that August day; for it was cool and green, with many brooks splashing over the rocks, or lying in brown pools under the ferns. Squirrels chattered and raced in the tall pines; now and then a gray rabbit skipped out of sight among the brakes, or a strange bird flew by. Here and there blackberries grew in the open places, sassafras bushes were plentiful, and black-birch bark was ready for chewing.
"Don't you call this nice?" asked Tommy, pausing at last in a little dell where a noisy brook came tumbling down the mountain side, and the pines sung overhead.
"Yes; but I'm awful hungry. Let's rest and eat our lunch," said Billy, sitting down on a cushion of moss.
"You always want to be stuffing and resting," answered sturdy Tommy, who liked to be moving all the time.
He took the fishing-basket, which hung over his shoulder by a strap, and opened it carefully; for good Mrs. Mullin had packed a nice lunch of bread and butter, cake and peaches, with a bottle of milk, and two large pickles slipped in on the sly to please the boys.
Tommy's face grew very sober as he looked in, for all he saw was a box of worms for bait and an old jacket.
"By George! we've got the wrong basket. This is Mullin's, and he's gone off with our prog. Won't he be mad?"
"Not as mad as I am. Why didn't you look? You are always in such a hurry to start. What shall we do now without anything to eat?" whined Billy; for losing his lunch was a dreadful blow to him.
"We shall have to catch some fish and eat blackberries. Which will you do, old cry-baby?" said Tommy, laughing at the other boy's dismal face.
"I'll fish; I'm so tired I can't go scratching round after berries. I don't love 'em, either." And Billy began to fix his line and bait his hook.