Elmer seemed to consider for a few seconds.
"I see no reason why we shouldn't pull up for a little while, just as you say, Landy," he observed, to the delight of the rest; "and everyone of us is fond of a mess of good ripe blueberries. So pitch in while the supply lasts."
The berries were thicker and larger than any they had ever seen before; and Lil Artha declared he considered the judgment of the little black bear "prime."
"He sure knew a good thing when he found it, and so do we," he told those who were working fingers and jaws near him.
When Elmer concluded that "enough was as good as a feast," they once more embarked, and the voyage was resumed. There was a new pusher in the older skiff, however.
"Here, you Landy, suppose you change seats with me," Lil Artha had remarked as the fat scout started to settle down in the middle of the boat, just as though he had a mortgage on that prize seat.
Landy looked worried.
"What for, Lil Artha?" he ventured to say, looking at the skipper with distress plainly marked on his round features; "do you want me to push the boat now? Not but that I'm willing to do anything I'm asked, you know; but I didn't think you'd want to take chances on getting wet, and mebbe losing our packs in the bargain; because I know I'm awful clumsy about some things."
"Well, in this case we'll have to take the risk," said the other, grimly; "the only satisfaction we have is that if anybody does get wet you won't escape. We're all in the same boat, you understand; and we sink or swim together. Now climb up here, and I'll show you how to handle a pusher. Time you learned a few more of the tricks a true scout ought to know."
Landy, apparently, wanted to do his best. He watched how Lil Artha used the heavy pole and then started to imitate him.