"About southeast. We ought not to have much trouble in striking Lake Wolverine, with the sun to help us."
"Guess you are right. It might be a good idea to climb a tree. I'll do that on top of the next hill."
Everywhere were evidences of the storm's ravages. Branches and limbs lay on all sides and occasionally small trees were found lying prostrate on the snow.
Through a heavily timbered section the boys forced their way, often confronted by huge snow-drifts.
On reaching the summit of a high hill, Hackett looked about him.
"There's a tree that will do, Somers," he said, pointing to one close at hand. "When I get my snow-shoes off, give me a boost."
In spite of little food and a very hard night, Hackett had not lost his agility. From branch to branch he climbed aloft, until a dizzy height was reached.
"I can see the upper end of the lake, Somers," he called, "but it's a good way off. We are headed all right, though," he added, beginning to descend.
"A couple of hours ought to see us at the camp," declared Hackett, when he stood on the ground once more.
"How far is the lake?"