slackened our pace.

The whole forest had taken on a wintry aspect. The snow rattled on
the bare twigs and sodden leaves, and the rising gusts of wind
sighed drearily.

"It seems to me we ought to come to that little hollow where the
muck-holes are," John said.

"So I think," replied Willis, stopping to look about.

"I think we're heading off too far toward Stoss Pond," said I.

"Oh no, we're not!" cried Willis. "Come on!"

Gripping our strings of fish, we ran on again, but presently we
were perplexed to discern the side of a mountain looking up
directly ahead.

"There, now, what did I tell you?" said I. "That's Stoss Pond
mountain."

Thereupon we tacked again, and ran on.

The storm thickened and the forest darkened, but on we went through
brush and thicket till we came to the bank of a large brook.

"We didn't cross any such brook as this on our way up!" John
exclaimed.