"Good day an' good luck. Take the right-hand trail. Better trot up a
bit, if you want to make camp before dark."

Wade soon entered the spruce forest. Then he came to a shallow, roaring
river. The horses drank the water, foaming white and amber around their
knees, and then with splash and thump they forded it over the slippery
rocks. As they cracked out upon the trail a covey of grouse whirred up
into the low branches of spruce-trees. They were tame.

"That's somethin' like," said Wade. "First birds I've seen this fall.
Reckon I can have stew any day."

He halted his horse and made a move to dismount, but with his eyes on
the grouse he hesitated. "Tame as chickens, an' they sure are pretty."

Then he rode on, leading his pack-horse. The trail was not steep,
although in places it had washed out, thus hindering a steady trot. As
he progressed the forest grew thick and darker, and the fragrance of
pine and spruce filled the air. A dreamy roar of water rushing over
rocks rang in the traveler's ears. It receded at times, then grew
louder. Presently the forest shade ahead lightened and he rode out into
a wide space where green moss and flags and flowers surrounded a
wonderful spring-hole. Sunset gleams shone through the trees to color
the wide, round pool. It was shallow all along the margin, with a deep,
large green hole in the middle, where the water boiled up. Trout were
feeding on gnats and playing on the surface, and some big ones left
wakes behind them as they sped to deeper water. Wade had an appreciative
eye for all this beauty, his gaze lingering longest upon the flowers.

"Wild woods is the place for me," he soliloquized, as the cool wind