ise not to
hold it against me, and give me the poorest grub in the bunch for
spite."

"All right, go on," said William slowly, as though he already began to
doubt the wisdom of asking his comrade's opinion; "I don't know as you
c'n settle this important question at all; but I promise not to hold
anything against you. Give us a straight yarn, now, Bobolink, hear!"

"Well," said Bobolink, with a grin, "when I hear you learned cooks
disputing about how to do this, and that, I just have to think about the
blind men and the elephant, you see."

"What about 'em?" demanded Nat Smith, who belonged to the third patrol,
and had carried his mother's big cook book along into camp, thinking to
surprise his rivals by the vast extent of his knowledge concerning
cookery terms.

"Oh! shucks, d'ye mean to say you never heard that story?" said
Bobolink. "Well, a lot of blind men in the Far East disputed about what
an elephant looked like, though nary one had ever seen the critter. So
they went, one at a time, to find out. Now what d'ye think happened?"

"How under the sun do we know? Get along with the yarn!" exclaimed
William.

"Each feller came back with a different story," went on Bobolink
gravely; "the one that grabbed the tail of the elephant vowed the
wonderful animal was mighty like a rope. Another says a snake, because,
you see, he got hold of the swinging trunk. A third vows the elephant
was like a wall, just because he slammed up against his side. And a
fourth hugged his leg, and was ready to take his affidavy the famous
beast was made just like a tree! Get the idea, boys?"

Apparently they did, for a minute later Bobolink was seen flying for his
life through the woods, with three mad cooks in full pursuit, shaking
their fists after him, and threatening all sorts of vengeance.

Paul and Mr. Gordon concluded to push out from shore on the big raft,
and try the fishing in that style. Fortunately there was little air
stirring, so that the clumsy contrivance could be readily managed.

Mr. Gordon was not an expert fisherman; while Paul had had considerable
experience in the art during his several Summers in Maine. He cast his
flies with such skill that the scoutmaster expressed admiration, and
took lessons in sending out the oiled silk line, so that the imitation
flies dropped on the water softly.

They cast in toward the shore, of course, and near the spot where a
creek sent its waters into the lake, each of them had a st