ested he.

"Oh, it's awful far, Don, an' we won't get back to dinner," objected
Dot.

"We'll get Cookee to give us something to eat and we can walk slowly so
you won't get tired. The roads are all cut out now, and there is no
snow," persisted Don.

"All right. I'll go. Goin' to bring the others?"

"'Course not!" retorted Don.

Saturday morning was warm and clear and Don ran into Cookee's kitchen
after breakfast with a request for some lunch as Dot and he were going
to have some fun. Cook willingly gave lunch--glad to have the twins out
of the way for the morning while the baking was done.

Don and Dot hurried off without being seen by anyone. Mike had kept an
eye on them since their escapade of the Jumpin' Jane, but he was busy
showing Babs the bear cub's sharp white teeth and warning the baby
about playing with them when no one else was about.

The timber-jacks were cutting way back beyond the road that ran past the
clearing, and the twins had every opportunity to get down to the river
without being seen. Even the road that had been cut from the forest to
the river was now abandoned by the teamsters, for they had cut a new
road some miles the other side of the old one and had it paved with logs
to keep the wheels of the low truck from sinking into the soft thawing
earth.

It took the twins some hours to gain the river-side, for the walking was
troublesome. In some places where the ice and snow still clung to the
exposed knolls, it was slippery, but in others, where the thaw had
melted the frost and poured its waters into the glades, they had to
skirt the pools or go through them. Consequently, by the time they
reached the river, they were tired and wet to the knees.

"Ah! here we are at last!" cried Dot, as she sat down to rest.

"Come up on this tall heap of logs," said Don, scrambling up to the top
of a twenty foot pier.

The children sat there looking all about the country with delight. The
air was warm enough to be comfortable, and the river looked wonderful
with the swift current pouring down the center and huge blocks of ice
floating up against the banks or being whirled into the stream by
suction of the current.

"Great, isn't it!" exclaimed Don.

"Yes, but I wouldn't want to be on one of those cakes of ice," shivered
Dot.

"Neither would anyone!"

"I'll tell you what I would like to play," said Dot.

"What?" asked Don.

"I'd play I was one of the river-men with a peavie an' I'd try to pus