sat nearby with her lap full
of flowers which she had gathered in the long grass and was now
arranging. She was dressed in blue; a sunbonnet slipped back from her
head; her glossy hair waved in the breeze. She looked as fresh as a
violet.

"Well, Daren, we have spent four delightful, happy hours. How time
flies! But it's growing late and we must go," said Mel.

"Wait a minute or two," replied Lane. "I'll catch this fellow. See him
bite! He's cunning. He's taken my bait time and again, but I'll get
him. There! See him run with the line. It's a big sunfish!"

"How do you know? You haven't seen him."

"I can tell by the way he bites. Ha! I've got him now," cried Lane,
giving a quick jerk. There was a splash and he pulled out a squirming
eel.

"Ugh! The nasty thing!" cried Mel, jumping up. Lane had flung the eel
back on the bank and it just missed falling into Mel's lap. She
screamed, and then when safely out of the way she laughed at the
disgust in his face.

"So it was a big sunfish? My! What a disillusion! So much for a man's
boastful knowledge."

"Well, if it isn't a slimy old eel. There! be off with you; go back
into the water," said Lane, as he shook the eel free from the hook.

"Come, we must be starting."

He pushed the canoe into the brook, helped Mel to a seat in the bow
and shoved off. In some places the stream was only a few feet wide,
but there was enough room and water for the light craft and it went
skimming along. The brook turned through the woods and twisted through
the meadows, sometimes lying cool and dark in the shade and again
shining in the sunlight. Often Lane would have to duck his head to
get under the alders and willows. Here in an overshadowed bend of the
stream a heron rose lumbering from his weedy retreat and winged his
slow flight away out of sight; a water wagtail, that cunning sentinel
of the brooks, gave a startled _tweet! tweet!_ and went flitting like
a gray streak of light round the bend.

"Daren, please don't be so energetic," said Mel, nervously.

"I'm strong as a horse now. I'm--hello! What's that?"

"I didn't hear anything."

"I imagined I heard a laugh or shout."

The stream was widening now as it neared its mouth. Lane was sending
the canoe along swiftly with vigorous strokes. It passed under a
water-gate, round a quick turn in the stream, where a bridge spanned
it, and before Lane had a suspicion of anything unusual he was right
upon a merry picnic party. There