A few days later the promised trip up Porcupine Hill was taken. An early start was made, the forty-four boys of the school, clad in semi-warlike uniforms, looking like a company of young soldiers as they marched over the hills to the south and west toward the mountains on the right of Mummy CaÑon.

Meanwhile Hal, by his frank and straightforward manner, established himself in the confidence of Miles so well as to remove all doubt as to his innocence regarding the disappearance of the nuggets. The mystery remained still unsolved, but it seemed certain that any suspicion directed toward Hal was entirely unjust.

Porcupine Hill was four miles from Lakefarm. The easiest ascent was on the southern side, but to reach this it would be necessary to travel an additional two miles around the base. On that side it was more than two miles to the peak, and this was the course generally used by those dwelling on the peak and the side of the mountain. On the opposite side the ascent was shorter and much steeper, and this was the route taken by the boys whenever they went up to see Aunt Sarah Jane.

Mr. and Mrs. Turman were real uncle and aunt of two of the boys of the school, Byron and Frank Bowler. The aged couple were always glad to receive their two nephews and their friends, and took pains to make them feel welcome. Fifteen years before, while prospecting, they had discovered a vein of gold near the peak and had staked out claims. But finding gold on a mountain peak and mining it profitably are two different propositions, and they found it necessary to do some sharp engineering of various sorts.

A company was formed and incorporation papers taken out. Then followed negotiations with various moneyed interests and an entanglement that tied matters up. Since then nothing of importance had been done.

When he found that he was not going to make his fortune in the mine, “Uncle Sam,” as Mr. Turman was familiarly known for miles around, desired to move to Jimtown or some other settlement in the valley; but Aunt Sarah Jane had been cured of rheumatism in this high and dry altitude, and she was afraid it would come back if they moved below. So they continued to live on the mountain peak in their cabin of slabs and rude timbers made warmer in winter with banks of sod and straw heaped close and high around the foundation.

It was a picturesque place, with everything crude but neat, clean, and comfortable. The boys always enjoyed going up there. The view was wide and magnificent. Several towns were visible, nestled here and there in the valleys or on the hillsides. At night their lights shone prettily in the deep-down distance. On one occasion while some of the boys were on the peak, they witnessed a storm several hundred feet below them and marveled at the novelty of looking down upon banks of clouds with lightning flashing among them.

So the Boy Scouts had much of interest before them when one fine morning early in September they set out in a body to climb Porcupine Hill. The ascent began over a slowly rising ridge of ground that ran along the base of the mountain, then led directly up the steep incline for some distance, and finally lost itself in a winding trail that curved among and about rocks and bushes and projecting cliffs. The climb, because of its winding nature, was much longer than a straight course would have been, so that nearly two hours were spent between the base and peak.

The boys were equipped with luncheons, water canteens, hike-sticks, a few cameras and field-glasses. For climbing footgear, they wore heavy Swiss hob-nailed shoes and gaiters. Their clothes were of strong, coarse material that would stand much wear and resist the tearing pulls of shrubbery and briars.

Aunt Sarah Jane was delighted to see them. It was the first time all the Scouts of the school had been up there together. At noon she brought out some tablecloths and spread them on the grass and invited the boys to prepare their dinner picnic style. Hal and Byron took the burro belonging to Mr. and Mrs. Turman and rode halfway down the southern side to a neighbor’s well and filled two large canvas bottles with water. These they hung over the burro’s shoulders by a strap connecting them and then began their journey back up to the peak.

The mountain was thickly wooded on this side, but the surface was rough, and the trail consequently very winding. Only one of the boys rode at a time on the return trip; when one became tired, the one on the burro dismounted and permitted the other to ride.

In this manner they had gone half of the return distance, when suddenly something happened that added a new sensation to their mountain experiences. Just as they were rounding a bluff in a sparsely wooded spot, a dark object darted across their path, causing the burro to give a jump so sudden as to throw Byron from its back.

Like an arrow from a bow, the slow and sleepy beast shot up the side of the mountain, leaving the boys to the tender mercies of the cause of its fright. At first the two Scouts were only astonished, for they could not imagine any more dangerous animal in that locality than a wildcat. There were said to be a few of these in the mountains, but they were shy and fled at the sight of man.

This beast, however, was larger than a wildcat and did not seem to be disposed to run at the sight of the boys. It was a slender long-limbed, cat-like animal, with reddish-gray fur. After springing across the path, the beast turned and seemed to hesitate, as if not knowing whether to pursue the burro or to direct its attention toward the boys.

“What is it?” Byron asked as he clung tremblingly to his companion. He had been severely shaken by his fall, but not seriously injured.

“It’s a mountain lion,” replied Hal with all the steadiness of voice he could command. Being older and larger than Byron, he felt that the responsibility of the situation rested on him.

“Let’s run,” proposed the smaller boy, tugging at Hal’s sleeve.

“No, we mustn’t do that,” replied the latter. “If we stand still and don’t seem to be afraid, he may go away and leave us alone.”

Hal now had good reason to congratulate himself on his industry during his three years at Lakefarm. He had found much of interest in the doctor’s library, reading everything that appealed to his taste. Among the books that he most enjoyed were illustrated natural histories, and it is little wonder that he recognized now the kind of beast before him, although he had never before seen one. He remembered also that these books had informed him that mountain lions are not so fierce as commonly thought, that they usually hunt at night and are cowardly and little to be feared unless cornered.

The puma was only a few rods away from Hal and Byron, who stood close to the bluff that formed a turning point in the path. For more than a minute boys and beast stood facing each other, neither moving. Byron wished to run and continued to pull at his companion’s coat-sleeve, but Hal, relying on his book information, stood firm. Presently the beast backed away.

“See? What did I tell you?” exclaimed the older boy gleefully. But his exultation was somewhat hysterical, indicating the strain he had undergone.

The puma backed slowly at first, but presently his retreat became more rapid. Then suddenly he turned and, with a few bounds, disappeared among the pine trees.

Hal was now willing to run, and both boys started out at their best pace up the trail. The ascent was not very steep here, so they ran some distance before they were too tired to go farther. Then they stopped and looked back, and, seeing no sign of the lion, they rested a while.

Then they took things a little easier, but they went faster than they would have under ordinary circumstances. A short distance from the top of the mountain, they were met by all the other boys, Dr. Byrd, Mr. Frankland, Mr. Porter, and Mr. and Mrs. Turman, who were much excited. The burro had returned alone and with more speed than it had ever been known to make before. Naturally this caused alarm, and a general rush was made to investigate.

Hal and Byron excitedly explained what had happened. Then followed a rapid succession of questions and answers until all the details of the adventure were told. Finally Aunt Sarah Jane added a new element of interest by saying:

“Maybe it was the painter I saw over on Flathead one day. It was early in the morning and I saw some kind of animal moving about over there. But it was so far away I couldn’t make out what it was. I thought at first it was a man.”