was very quiet, here. The lumber folks had not got in with their saws
and axes, and the trees were great spruces, so high and stately that we
felt like ants. Among the shaded, nice-smelling aisles the old trail
wound. Sometimes it was so covered with the fallen needles that we could
not see it; and it had been blazed, years ago, by trappers or somebody,
and where it crossed glades we came upon it again. It was an easy trail.

We reached the top of a little ridge, and before us we saw the pass.
'Twas a wide, open pass, with snow-banks showing on it, and the sun
swinging down to set behind it.

The trail forked, one branch making for the pass, the other making for
the right, where Pilot Peak loomed close at hand. There was some reason
why the trail forked, and as we surveyed we caught the glint of a lake,
over there.

Major Henry examined the sketch map. "That must be Medicine Lake," he
said. "I think we'd better go over there and camp, instead of trying the
pass. We're sure of wood and water, and it won't be so windy."

The trail took us safely to the brow of a little basin, and looking down
we saw the lake. It was lying at the base of Pilot Peak. Above it on one
side rose a steep slope of a gray slide-rock, like a railway cut, only
of course no railroad was around here; and all about, on the other
sides, were pointed pines.

I tell you, that was beautiful. And when we got to the lake we found it
to be black as ink--only upon looking into it you could see down, as if
you were looking through smoky crystal. The water was icy cold, and full
of specks dancing where the sun struck, and must have been terrifically
deep.

We camped beside an old log cabin, all in ruins. It was partly roofed
over with sod, but we spread our beds outside; these old cabins are
great places for pack-rats and skunks and other animals like those. Fish
were jumping in the lake, and the two Red Fox Scouts and I were detailed
to catch some. The Red Fox Scouts tried flies, but the water was as
smooth as glass, and you can't fool these mountain lake-trout, very
often, that way. Then we put on spinners and trolled from the shores by
casting. We could see the fish, gliding sluggishly about,--great big
fellows; but they never noticed our hooks, and we didn't have a single
strike. So we must quit, disgusted.

The night was grand. The moon was full, and came floating up over the
dark timber which we had left, to shine on us and on the black lake and