"Why," continued Thad, "Allan tells me that among the expert canoemen up in his State of Maine lots of them wouldn't be guilty of lifting the paddle out of the water at all, and make swift work of it too. You see, in creeping up on a deer that is feeding on the lily pads in the shallow water near the shore, just around a point perhaps, the water dripping from the paddle when it was raised; or even the gurgle as it came out, would give warning of danger; and about the only thing they'd know about that deer would be its whistle as it leaped into the brush. So they always practice silence in paddling, till it gets to be second nature, Allan tells me."
"Say, I certainly do hope we get a chance to see that same thing for ourselves," remarked Davy; "I've heard and read a heap about Maine, and always wanted to get there. Since Allan's been talking about his life in the pine woods that feeling's just grown till I dream of it nights, and imagine myself up there."
"And I'd like to go along too, if my mother could be persuaded to let me," was what Smithy said, a little doubtfully; for he had been so long "tied to his mother's apron-strings," as the other boys called it, that he could not believe she might overcome her fears for his safety enough to let him go far away.
Nevertheless, Smithy had now had one full breath of what it meant to be a boy with red blood in his veins; and he was inwardly determined that never again could he be kept in bonds, while the smiling open air beckoned, and these splendid chums wanted his company.
All this while good progress had been made, and they were now drawing close in to the island. It lay there, looking calm and peaceful in the morning sunlight. A few birds flew up from along the shore, some of them "teeter" snipe that had been feeding. Davy even pointed with his paddle to a big gray squirrel that ran along a log in plain view, and sat up on his haunches as if to curiously observe these approaching human beings who intended to invade his haunts.
"What's that bird out yonder on the water?" asked Smithy, just then pointing beyond a spur of the island.
"That's a loon," remarked Thad. "Allan heard him drop in here last night; and both of us happened to be awake when he gave one of his cries. You'll be apt to hear him some time or other; and if you think it's a crazy man laughing, why just remember they named that bird rightly when they called him a loon."
"I don't see anything moving on shore; anyhow there's no man in sight," Davy remarked a minute later, as they drew in still closer.
"Oh! I didn't expect to see a crowd waiting to receive us," laughed Thad. "We may have all our trouble for our pains; but I just couldn't rest till I got one more squint at that imprint of a shoe on the island."
"Oh! yes, I remember that Bob White was telling me about you being taken up with that track," Davy went on; "but he didn't say just why. Perhaps you'll show me, now that I'm along on the trip?"