The boys rode over to the river
and took with them their shotguns. While fishing they kept their horses
in sight and their firearms ready for use, and had any horse-thieves
shown themselves they would have met with a hot reception. Fishing
proved good, and inside of three hours they had all the fish on their
strings that they cared to carry.
"Let us ride up the river a bit," suggested Phil, after they had eaten
their lunch. "I'd like to look at the country, and it is possible we may
be able to stir up some game."
As it was a clear day, the others agreed, and soon they were riding
slowly along a trail which wound in and out among the rocks bordering
the stream. They passed the shack which Roger and the girls had used as
a shelter from the storm, and then reached an open spot. Beyond was a
high hill, covered with a primeval forest.
"There ought to be some game in that woods," said Dave, as they
continued to move forward.
"If the cowboys haven't shot everything worth shooting," answered the
senator's son. "There used to be good hunting in Maine and in Upper New
York State, but you have got to tramp a good many miles these days
before you catch sight of anything worth while."
After a ride in the sun it was cool and pleasing in the forest, and they
took their time riding under the great trees, some of which must have
been fifty to a hundred years old.
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