A Scout should be able at any time to twist a stick into rope, but to do it successfully he must know which kind of wood to pick out for it. That is one reason for knowing the different kinds of trees by sight.
While we sailed along we trailed a line astern of us with some tempting-looking flies on it in the hope that we might get a trout for dinner.
Suddenly, just when we were in the middle of a busy time over a squall of wind, there came a tug, tug, and a pull at our line. All was at once excitement.
"Down mast and sail!" "Reel in the line!" "Hold the boat with the oars!" "Don't let him break away!"
Steadily he is hauled, kicking and rolling over in the water, and at last he is safely lifted into the boat—a fine, silvery, speckled trout.
"What a dinner he will make!"
"How would you like him, grilled, fried, or boiled?"
Alas! we thought a good deal about what sort of dinner he would make.
And he did make a dinner, too—but not for us!
We presently heard Bruce crunching and munching something. He had not waited for the fish to be fried, or grilled, or boiled. He just ate him as he was. We only had bread and butter and coffee for dinner that day—without any trout. We didn't even mention trout during the meal. We didn't seem to want any, or we pretended we didn't.
Still, we had a very jolly dinner at a beautiful spot where we landed on the shore of the lake. Then after a further bit of sailing and rowing we reached the end of the lake.