They were soon on the move again, and pushing steadily up against the current of the Little Machias. An hour or two passed. The air was not nipping cold at this time of the day; but as the season was now considerably advanced they expected to meet with considerable frost, and even some ice, before coming back once more to the home town.
Lest the reader who has not made the acquaintance of the Boy Scouts in the previous volume, should think it strange that these six lads were able to be away from their school duties for such a length of time at this season of the year, it may be best to enter a little explanation right here.
An unfortunate epidemic of contagious sickness had broken out in Cranford, and as a number of the scholars of the school were affected, the trustees had reluctantly decided that the session between early Fall and New Years must be abandoned. If all were well at the later date, after the usual holidays, school would be resumed. But the health of the community demanded that the boys and girls be separated for the time being.
Just then Thad’s guardian, a genial old man who was known far and wide as “Daddy,” Brewster, found that he had urgent need of communicating with a gentleman by the name of Carson, who had recently gone up into Maine on his annual moose hunt in the big game country. As he might not come out before January, and the necessity of giving him certain documents was great, Thad had been asked to make the trip.
They had long been counting on a chance to visit the home country of their Maine fellow scout, Allan Hollister; and most of the scouts eagerly seized on this opportunity to carry out the project, though two of the patrol were unable to be along.
And so they were now in a condition to thoroughly enjoy the outing, since Thad had carried out his mission, and given the papers into the keeping of Mr. Carson; receiving a message in return which he had wired to the old gentleman when in touch with a telegraph station.
Thad himself had believed that there was not the slightest cloud along the horizon; and now that this Cale Martin business had cropped up, he began to realize that after all it might not be such clear sailing as they had figured on.
Still, Thad was not the one to borrow trouble, though ready to grapple with it in any shape or manner, once it found them out.
They camped early on that night, because all of them were a little tired; and the location on the shore looked especially fine.
“Hey, look at what Giraffe’s going to do!” exclaimed Bumpus, after they had carried part of their things ashore, and were busily engaged in putting up the two big tents supplied by Jim Hasty from his camp stores, such as all Maine guides delight to possess.