They climbed up the tree and surveyed the scene before them in silence.  Indeed, it was too sublime for words.  On every side stretched the forest.  Mile upon mile, league after league, east, west, north, south, far as the eye could reach, spread the leafy roof of the forest, seemingly illimitable, boundless, vast as the ocean, a sea of trees.  And like a sea the forest rose and fell in huge billows.  On either hand great mountains reared their huge bulk heavenward.  Beyond them other ranges heaved their rugged crests aloft.  And still other ranges lay beyond these.  Over all was a cover of living green, the canopy of the forest.  Sublime, majestic, awesome, almost overpowering was the spectacle.  And neither lad could find words to express the emotion that arose within him.  So they stood and looked in silent wonder.  Finally Charley spoke.

“It’s worth all we’ve been through, Lew, just to see this,” he said.  “I shall be well paid for the trip, even if we never get a fish.”

Presently Lew looked up at the sun.  Then he examined the mountains a little to the left of the sun.

“There’s where we go,” he said, pointing over the nearest ridge to a gap in the mountain beyond it.  “The trout-stream will be in the third valley.  We’ve got to travel due east.  And it will be some hike, too—­over a mountain and through a high gap.  Let’s pick out our landmarks and get under way.  It will take us a good many hours to make it, but we ought to be there in time to have trout for supper.”

For a few moments the boys examined the way in silence.

“See that bunch of rocks on the summit?” asked Lew.  “They look like chimney-rocks from here.  Anyway, they stick up higher than any other part of the mountain.  And there’s three tall pines right beside them.  That’s a good landmark.  It’s exactly in a straight line for the gap.  We can find that mark if we can find anything.  But you can’t see very clearly through this timber.  Was there ever anything like it?”

“Finest timber I ever set eyes on, Lew.  Isn’t it wonderful? and to think that the whole state was once covered with timber like that!”

They climbed down the rude ladder, slipped their packs over their shoulders, and set off down the mountainside at a fast pace.  And they could go fast in such timber.  No underbrush tripped them or caught in their sacks.  No low limbs impeded their progress.  Indeed there was hardly a limb nearer the ground than fifty feet.  Their only care was for the rocks and the roughness underfoot.  From time to time they paused as they came to some mammoth pine, and gazed in awed wonder at its huge bulk.

As they got down into the bottom the timber seemed to be even larger than it was on the slope.  The forest floor was soft and springy.  Their feet sank into it as into a soft, thick rug.  The top of this leafy covering was dry enough; but a few inches under the surface, the forest mold was as moist as though a shower had just fallen.  Yet there had been almost no rain for months.  Not only did the leaves hold the moisture, but the very shade itself conserved it by preventing evaporation.