He waded out into the clear yellow waters and examined the bottom,
which was set in tiny waves beautifully regular, the miniature reflexes
of the water in motion. It made him think of the little wind waves in
the snow, which he had often wondered at in winter.

Growing tired of this, he returned to the bank, and lying down on the
grass gave himself up to the rest and freedom and beauty of the day. He
no longer felt like "making the most of it." It seemed as if he were
always to live like this.

The others came in after awhile with a few bass and many perch which
were beautifully marked in pearl and gray, to correspond with the sand
bottom, though the boys didn't know that. There were no large fish so
near shore, and they lacked the courage to go far out, for the
whitecaps glittered now and then in mid-water.

They ate every "smidgin'" of the fish at dinner, and their larder
looked desperately bare. They went out into the deeper water, all
feeling a little timorous, as the little boat began to rock on the
waves.

Lincoln was fascinated with the water, which was so clear that he could
see fish swimming far below. The boat seemed floating in the air. At
times they passed above strange and beautiful forests of weeds and
grasses, jungles which scared him, for he remembered the story of a man
who had been caught and drowned by just such clinging weeds, and
besides, what monsters these mysterious places might conceal!

Other boats came around them. Sailboats passed, and the little steamer,
the pride of the lake, passed over to "the island." Yachts that seemed
to the boys immense went by, loaded with merrymakers. Everything was as
strange, as exciting, as if they were in a new world.

Rance was much taken by the sailboats. "I'm going to rig a sail on our
boat, or die tryin'," he declared.

He spent the whole afternoon at this work while the other boys played
ball and shot at a target, and by night was ready for a sail, though
the others were skeptical of results.

That second night was less restful. The mosquitoes bit and a loud
thunderstorm passed over. As they heard the roar of the falling rain on
the tent and the wet spatter in their faces, and heard the water
drip-drop on their bread-box, Milton and Lincoln wished themselves at
home.

It grew cooler toward morning and the mosquitoes left, so that they all
slept like bear cubs, rising fresh and rested.

It was a little discouraging at first. Everything was wet an