"I didn't hear what route they took," answered their guide. "I reckon they went straight over the mountains. I don't believe as how Bill Harney takes to skating."
"Is this Bill Harney a good sort?" asked Tom. "If he is, I can tell you he has got into bad company."
"Bill isn't so bad when he's sober. It's when he gits full o' rum that he makes things lively. He's a great drinker."
They were soon on the river, which at this point was fifty to sixty feet wide. The snow covered a large portion of the surface, but the wind had cleared many a long stretch, and they skated on these, dragging the sleds behind them. Each sled was packed high with the camping out fit, but they ran along readily.
"I wonder how long we'll be out," said Sam, as he skated by Tom's side.
"I guess that will depend upon what luck we have, Sam. If we strike the right spot first clip we ought to be back inside of five or six days."
As the party moved up the river they found the stream wound in and out between the mountains. On either side were bare rocky walls or dense patches of timber, with here and there a tiny open space, now piled deep with snowdrifts.
"I see some rabbits ahead!" cried Tom presently. "Wonder if I can bring them down," he
