from the lofty roof hung stalactites which flashed and sparkled in the light, while the walls were formed of smooth rock of astonishing whiteness.

dick lighted another match, and pushed forward over the hard floor.

"by jove, isn't this great, chubby?" he exclaimed. "hello, as i live, another chamber."

his voice reverberated in a series of roars and he wondered if the stout boy understood. but dave was soon at his side, and the others followed.

as a flood of light illuminated the interior brightly, a murmur of admiration arose. from almost every nook and corner, the rays were flashed back in dazzling gleams, while fantastic groups of stalactites sparkled with a delicate, silvery whiteness.

"swell, eh?" said havens.

"i should say so," cried dick. "like some enchanted region. let's go in the other chamber." around a huge pillar of rock, a cavern somewhat larger was entered.

presently, bob somers grasped dave by the arm. "listen! don't i hear the sound of running water?" asked bob. "that's where the sound comes from. look out, fellows!" he pointed his torch toward a yawning pit which extended across the floor.

the quartet cautiously approached.

the steady swash of running water reached their ears, but the torches, held low, revealed nothing but the rocky sides of the pit. its lower portion was wrapped in inky blackness.

despite the strangeness of their surroundings, the boys slept as soundly as they ever did in their lives.

"gee whitaker!"

bob somers raised himself on his elbow, and looked at his watch. "eight o'clock! wake up, fellows!" he cried.

the reverberations promptly aroused havens and dick, but the "poet laureate" lay still.

"get up, chub!" yelled dick. "whoop la!"

"lemme be—i've just turned in," protested dave. "lemme be! if you don't, i'll hurt somebody."

but in spite of this awful threat, he was promptly dragged to his feet.

"fellows," he said, after breakfast, "let's leave the bearskin here. it ought to be perfectly safe, eh, havens?"

"sure thing. we can blaze a trail, and find the cave again easy enough."

after concealing the entrance as well as possible, the hunters began their toilsome climb.

great masses of whitish clouds flecked the blue sky, and the snow-capped summit was often hidden. they saw plenty of small game and several times heard the cry of wolves. jim havens blazed a trail through the deep pine and oak forests.

about noon they came to a small clearing and a halt was made.

"weather's beginning to look threatening, fellows," observed jim havens. "shouldn't wonder if a storm was coming up."

"neither would i," said bob. "we haven't had a drop of rain since starting."

"but managed to get wet, just the same," grinned havens.

lunch over, the climb was resumed.

"wish we'd run across some big horns or goats," grumbled dick, wiping his forehead.

"too early for that, dick. they don't often come down below the timber line," said havens.

"sort of high-livers, eh?" laughed dave.

"yes, and look down on most of the other critters, though painters often get after 'em."

at each open space, the quartet looked anxiously aloft, but there was always another ridge ahead and the summit seemed as far away as ever.

"don't believe we can get any nearer," grumbled dave. "this mountain's growing. bet we're further away than when we started."

"there! another cloud has bumped into the old thing," broke in dick.

"crickets, seems funny to have clouds coming to meet us," remarked dick. "gee! the wind is getting a bit too strong for comfort."

a harsh scream suddenly startled the boys, and, as they looked overhead, a bird with great, spreading wings soared above the tree tops.

"a bald eagle," said havens. "we might have plugged the old robber."

"why do you call him a robber?" asked dick.

"because he doesn't mind stealing. the old codger will watch a hawk catch a fish, bird or small animal, then sweep down, and the meal changes hands."

"or changes claws," smiled dave.

"that's it. he's a sneaking rascal. always watching his chance to let other birds work for him. there he is now!"

ahead, the forest opened out. into this the eagle was sweeping, in a long, graceful curve, his wings scarcely seeming to move. the four instantly detected his object. a frightened rabbit was scampering for dear life through the grass, headed for a thicket.

but the woodland drama was soon over.

"he's got it," cried dick.

with lightning speed, the bird overtook the fleeing animal; then the struggling bunny was borne aloft in the eagle's claws, and almost before the boys realized it, bird and prey were but a speck in the sky.

"gee whitaker, that happened quickly," said bob.

"makes me feel glad that there are no rocs around," laughed dave.

"don't think one could have carried you off," said dick, facetiously. "their limit was a horse or elephant."

the timber line was left behind. there was nothing now but stunted vegetation, barren rocks, and, above them, perpetual snow.

"and this," observed havens, waving his hand, "is the home of the big horn and mountain goat. is it getting too steep for you?" he dislodged a rock, which rattled noisily down the incline.

"it's dangerous; besides, we can't see," grumbled the "poet." "in a few minutes, it will be like trying to climb up the side of a cathedral."

"seems out of the world," declared dick; "and say, that cold is getting worse—whew!"

he pulled up his collar, and the others followed suit.

"hello! rain at last."

the four shadowy forms came to a halt. a few big drops sprinkled around them, then increased to a steady patter. a flock of screaming birds darted swiftly by.

"h'm, flying before the storm," murmured dave. "sounds kind of ominous. let's grope around a bit for a more sheltered place. out here we're a regular target."

but before they had gone far, a torrent was beating in their faces. clinging to whatever support they could find, the four huddled together and awaited the outcome.