when the boys had watched their friends
disappear in the forest, Bob decided that it would be a good opportunity
to wash the mud and slime from his clothes, as they would soon dry in
the sun.

No sooner said than done. The soiled garments were stripped (for of
course the lads were reduced to one suit apiece) and the stream utilised
as a washing-tub, after which Bob was obliged to sit in his suit of
Nature while the clothes of Art were drying upon handy branches.

As we said, the day was hot, and, as the grassy slope upon which the
boys sat formed the margin of a clear pool where the stream widened, it
was not to be expected that the period of idle ease would be prolonged.

"Ah!" Bob suddenly exclaimed, as he sat up and regarded the water with
covetous eyes, "the temptation is too much for me. I'm going to have a
dip."

"It certainly looks more tempting than your plunge into mud. A pleasant
change, I should say," remarked Alf chaffingly. Then he added merrily:
"But are you sure that you can stand it? It won't do to exert yourself
too much yet. Old Mackintosh expects you to rest."

"That's all right. I shan't muck about very much. I can take it easy. As
a matter of fact, I am sure that a plunge will buck me up."

"All serene," returned the younger boy, rising to prepare himself for a
bathe. "So long as you don't think that it will do you any harm, I'm
ready."

A short run, and then Bob had entered the water in the clean-cut style
of a practised diver.

"It's glorious!" he called to his chum, who was almost ready to follow
his leader. "I should think that it is quite eight feet in the middle,
so you can plunge safely."

"Right. Clear out of the way!" was the response, and in a second more
Holden in his turn cleft the sparkling water.

Those of our readers who are only familiar with the cheerless sea or
even the placid river-bathing of England can have no idea of the charm
that is found in emulating the fishes in the cool depths of a Western
forest stream.

Imagine the great trunks of cedar and pine and the gnarled giants of
maples spreading their great arms--shutting off the distance with a
surrounding barrier of dense colour; imagine the red willows dipping
their heads in the margin of the bowl, gaily coloured birds skimming the
surface in pursuit of insects, and gaudy butterflies sometimes touching
your cheek, like a piece of down borne upon the mellow air. At such a
time, in such a place, you feel yourself