s really noon when they finally came in sight of the
lake.

The canoes were gladly launched, a light lunch eaten, the teamster paid
off, and then again the voyage was resumed under a favoring sky; for the
air was bracing, and so far not a sign of the first snow storm had made
its appearance, though the guides warned their charges to be prepared
for the worst, as a downfall was nearly due.

A cold wind was blowing from the northwest so that the wise guides
hugged the sheltered shore of Portage Lake, since the waves were of
pretty good size, and the flying spray would be far from pleasant in
such weather.

Finally they reached the place where the lake had its outlet into a
small stream, that, after flowing for a number of miles, emptied into
the Lower Lake of the great and famous Eagle chain.

On the shore of this lake then, they made their next camp. From the
grave manner of Jim, the scoutmaster easily guessed that they must by
now have entered the territory where Cale Martin, the slippery old
poacher, held forth. Jim seemed to look about him more than before. He
also started at the least unusual sound, showing that while he might try
to disguise the fact, he was really nervous. Still, he did not give the
slightest indication of showing the white feather, or backing down,
before a dozen like Cale Martin.

Davy had purchased a little snapshot camera at the town below, and also
some flashlight cartridges with which he wished to get some views of the
group around the camp-fire at night. No one had made any effort to
perpetuate such scenes which Davy declared were the very best part of
the whole trip. And now that they had become fairly launched upon the
journey he was aching to start into business with his new outfit.

Davy knew a little about taking pictures, although far from being an
expert. He had never used flashlight powders, or cartridges before; and
after reading all the directions carefully, he declared he felt prepared
to take a picture that would be viewed with the greatest satisfaction in
the world by all his chums, when this great Maine vacation were only a
memory of the past.

So Davy warned his campmates not to be alarmed if there suddenly flashed
upon them a great light.

"I'd like to get you all in characteristic attitudes, if I could--that
was the way the feller who sold me the camera called it; and he said the
best pictures were the natural ones. What I mean is, that if I could
grab Step Hen her