On the following morning, immediately after breakfast, Hank Merwin rowed them to the far end of the lake. He was sorry to see them go, but the boys assured him that they would be back in a few days.
"It's funny," remarked Dick, after they had been on the way for some time, "how close that mountain looked to the lake, and we've been walking and walking."
"And haven't even come to the base," grumbled Dave. "That's always the way with mountains—they do it on purpose."
"Notice how the trees have thinned out?" queried Havens; "well, this place is called 'Scattered Pines.' Used to be a lot of moose around here—guess there are still. But come ahead, fellows; we have a long climb."
Presently, between the pines, a stream appeared in view. It sang so cheerily that Dave was charmed.
"Oh, ho," he murmured, as he reached the bank; "makes me think of that poem by—"
"That will do, Chubby," laughed Dick.
"By Bryant. It begins—now listen——"
"Great Cæsar, fellows, keep quiet," broke in Bob, in a low tone. "What in the dickens is that straight ahead? Look, Havens—there—it moved!"
"A bear, and I'll bet a grizzly," said Jim.