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the river the way is at least forty miles, and there are half a dozen rough spots where you'd have to walk a mile or two."

      "We have our skates," said Sam. "Skating would be easier than walking, and pulling the sleds on the ice would be child's play."

      "Well, I allow as how I wouldn't mind skatin' myself," said John Barrow thoughtfully. "I never thought of that before. If you want to, we can try that trail. We can take to the mountain any time, if we find skating no good."

      So it was arranged that they should strike out for Bear Pond by way of the river, and the sleds, of which there were two, were packed accordingly, and the boys saw to it that their skates were well sharpened and otherwise in good condition.

      "When you're skating, you want to look out for air holes," was John Barrow's caution. "Fer where the river runs between the mountains it is mighty deep in spots, I can tell you that!"

      "Thanks, I'll be on my guard," answered Tom, with a shiver. "I've had all I want of icy baths this winter."

      The girls were sorry to see the boys leave so quickly, but were consoled when Tom promised to stay longer on the return. On the following morning breakfast was had at six o'clock, and by seven they were off, everybody wishing them a good time. Only Mrs. Barrow knew that the boys were on a treasure, and not a bird and wild animal, hunt.

      It was a clear, frosty day and everybody was in the best of spirits. The boys wore fur caps and warm clothing, and each was provided with either a rifle or a shot-gun. So far they had seen but little game around the farm, but John Barrow assured them that the timber and mountains were full of game of all sorts.

      "I wonder what route Dan Baxter's party took," said Dick, as they gained the river, and stopped to put on their skates.

      "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 added, as he unslung his gun. But long before he could take aim the bunnies were out of sight amid the timber.

      "You'll have to carry your gun in your hand for a shot at them," came from Dick. "But be careful, or you may trip up on some frozen twig and shoot somebody."

      Mile after mile was passed, but no further game came to view, much to Tom's disgust.

      "Not much right around here," said John Barrow, as he saw Tom put his gun back over his shoulder. "The boys from Timber Run have cleared the ground putty well. But you'll see something sure a little further on — and maybe more'n you bargain for."

      "I'm not afraid of big game, Mr. Barrow. We faced some pretty bad animals when we were in Africa and out West."

      "I allow that must be so, Tom. But you want to be careful even so. A big mountain deer or a bear aint to be fooled with, I can tell you that."

      About eleven o'clock they came to the first falls above Timber Run. Here the water was frozen itrto solid masses, but the way was so uneven they found it profitable to take off their skates and "tote" the sleds around the spot. This necessitated a walk of several hundred feet through the timber skirting the edge of the river. The way was uncertain, and John Barrow went ahead, to steer the party clear of any danger.

      "Finest timber in the world right here," he observed. "I can't see why the timber company don't get together and put it in the market. It would fetch a good price."

      "Wait! I see something in yonder trees!" cried Dick, in a low voice. "Can you make out what they are?"

      "Wild turkeys!" answered the guide. "Git down behind these bushes. If we can bag a few of them, we'll have rich eatin' for a few days!"

      CHAPTER XV

       WILD TURKEYS

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      Without delay the Rover boys dropped behind the bushes, and John Barrow did the same. All kept as quiet as possible, for they knew that on the first alarm the wild turkeys would be off.

      The game was not over six feet from the ground, sitting in three rows on as many branches of a hemlock that overhung the stream. There were over a dozen in the flock, each as plump as wild turkeys ever get.

      "How shall we fire?" asked Dick. "There is no call for all of us to shoot at the same bird."

      "I'll take one on the left," answered John Barrow. "You take one on the right. Tom can take a middle one sitting high, and Sam a middle one sitting low. All ready?"

      "Yes," came the answer, from one after another.

      "Then fire when I say three. One, two — three!"

      Bang! bang! went the firearms, and as the reports echoed through the forest, two of the wild turkeys were seen to drop dead under the branches upon which they had been sitting. One, that was badly wounded, fluttered down and began to thrash around in the brush. The rest of the flock flew away with a rush and were lost to sight between the trees.

      "Three! That isn't so bad!" cried Dick, as they all started on a run forward. Soon they had the turkey on the ground surrounded, and John Barrow caught up the game and wrung its neck.

      "I guess I missed my mark," came rather sheepishly from Tom.

      "You!" exclaimed Sam, in surprise. "I was just going to say I had missed."

      "Nobody missed," put in the guide.

      "Nobody?" came from the three Rovers.

      "Somebody must have missed," added Tom. "We fired four shots and only got three birds."

      "One of those that flew off was wounded. He dropped a lot of feathers and went up in a shaky fashion. Of course, he got away, but just the same, he was hit."

      "Well, I thought I missed clean and clear," said Tom doubtfully.

      "And I thought I missed," laughed Sam. "I guess we'll have to divide that third bird between us, Tom."

      "We've got all the wild-turkey meat we'll want on this trip," came from John Barrow. "Before this is gone, you'll want a change, I'll warrant you."

      While the guide was caring for the birds the boys went back for the sleds. Soon they were again on the way, and they did not stop until the vicinity of the falls was left far behind and they had again reached a point where skating would be good for several miles.

      "Reckon we can stop here and have dinner," observed the guide. "Feelin' kind o' hungry, aint you?"

      "Just guess I am hungry," declared Tom. "But I didn't want to say anything till the rest did."

      Some of the cooking utensils were unpacked, and while the boys got wood for the fire, John Barrow brought out some coffee and other things. It was decided that they should not take time to cook a turkey until they went into camp for the night.

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