The bank was too steep to admit of climbing it, so Dick, after a moment's consideration, picked up his gun and began walking slowly along the bottom of the gully.
It was a most unpleasant necessity. Huge snow-drifts barred his way, and occasionally he floundered along almost waist-deep. However, the gully soon widened out and its sides became less steep.
A short distance further found the boys at a place where all were able to reach the far side of the ravine. They were then obliged to go back for Dick Travers' snow-shoes. After a brief halt for lunch, the three young hunters continued their march.
"Guess we won't get a shot at any deer to-day," remarked Bob.
"We haven't seen any of those wolves that Piper spoke about either," said Dick.
"No—and I'm too hungry to care anything about them now," observed Sam. "How many miles do you suppose we have come, anyway?"
"More than I care to think about. We'll have to turn back pretty soon, or it may mean a nice, cold night out in the woods."
In a short time they emerged from amidst the timber and stood on the brink of a steep hill, which rounded somewhat like the sides of a huge amphitheatre.
"Hello, here's a lake!" exclaimed Bob, as he saw an expanse of ice far below.
"Don't I wish it was Lake Wolverine?" sighed Sam.