e time of the ice period.

"No use; he don't answer; or if he does, we don't get it," Seth
observed, in a disappointed tone.

"Then the only thing for us to do is to go ahead," Andy proposed.

"Paul's getting his bearings again," remarked Eben.

"I wanted to make dead sure," the scoutmaster observed, with a glow of
determination in his eyes. "You see, we tried to note just about where
the balloon seemed to fall; and it takes a lot of figuring to keep that
spot in your mind all the while you're turning and twisting along this
queer trail. But I feel pretty sure of my ground."

"Huh! wish I did the same," said Seth, holding up one of his feet, and
showing that he had been in black mud half way to his knee, when he
made some sort of bad guess about the footing under him.

Apparently Paul was now ready to once more start out. But they saw him
give a quick hack at a tree, and upon looking as they passed they
discovered that he had taken quite a slice off the bark, leaving a white
space as big as his two hands, and which could easily be seen at some
distance off in the direction whither they were bound.

That was called a "blaze."

If Seth thought he was having his troubles, they were slight compared
with those that attacked one other member of the little band of would-be
rescuers.

Noodles, besides being a good-natured chap, was more or less awkward.
Being so very stout had more or less to do with this; and besides, he
had a habit of just ambling along in any sort of happy-go-lucky way.

Now, while this might not be so very bad under ordinary conditions, when
there was a decent and level road to be traveled over, it brought about
all sorts of unexpected and unwelcome difficulties when they were trying
to keep to a narrow and crooked path.

Twice already had Noodles made a slip, and gone in knee-deep, to be
dragged out by some of his comrades. And he was glancing around at the
gloomy aspect with a look approaching _fear_ in his eyes, just as though
he began to think that they were invading a haunted region where
respectable scouts had no business to go, even on an errand of mercy.

Such was the wrought-up condition of his nerves, that when a branch
which some one had held back, and then let slip, came in contact with
the shins of Noodles, he gave out a screech, and began dancing around
like mad.

"Snakes! and as big as your wrist too! I saw 'em!" he called out,
forgetting to talk in his usual broken English way