This is all very well, if you have the whole lake and its outletting river all to yourselves, with no one to scare the fish and game, and none to trespass on your camp ground; but picture to yourselves the consternation that assailed the boys when, the following night, the train brought in another camping crowd, that trailed up the shore with a great deal of fuss, and pitched camp directly across the point from them—a crowd of at least ten men. No rollicking boys there, all big, full-grown men with beards and whiskers, with a dozen gun cases, stretcher camp beds, and some scarlet velvet rugs—actually rugs. The boys just stood and stared, then sneered.
"Nice 'Saucy Seven' those chaps will make of our holiday," groaned one of the grads. "'Sorry Seven,' we'd better call ourselves, I say, and to-morrow I'm for moving, striking camp at daylight and getting away from that gang that camps with rugs." The last word took on the expression of an article of actual disgrace. "Hello! They're running up the colors," interrupted Bob. "It's a Union Jack, all right. Perhaps they're not such rummies, after all."
Then, after much peering and squinting, they made out that the biggest tent stretched directly at the base of the flagstaff, and contained the despised scarlet rugs, which the boys were still jeering at when they noticed a little canoe, singly manned, put out from the rocky ledge and make swiftly towards them. The Saucy Seven unbent sufficiently to all go in a body to the landing. Their minds were fully made up to invite the intruder to "shinny on his own side," and not come "moseying" around the camp, when the canoeist beached his bow and sprang lightly ashore. He was a very handsome young man, clean shaven and merry-eyed, and, touching his cap lightly, he said in a tremendously English voice:
"Beg pardon, gentlemen, sorry to trouble you, but His Excellency, the Governor-General, presents his compliments, and would you kindly lend him a can of condensed milk? Our cook seems to have forgotten everything. We haven't a drop for our coffee."
The Saucy Seven raised seven disgraceful-looking caps, but only one spoke. It was the biggest grad. "Why, we're honored. We had no idea who it was."
"Oh, that's all right," answered the Englishman. "You know His Excellency goes camping for a day or two every year, just for the fun and fish and things."
"Fish? Does he like fish?" asked Bob. Then, without waiting for a reply, he disappeared, only to return with the can of condensed milk and three splendid four-pound bass he had landed for their own supper. He looked shyly at the young aide-de-camp, handing him the can, and said, "Will you present our compliments to His Excellency, and ask him to accept these for supper?"
"Delighted, I'm sure," said the officer. "He's fond of bass. Thanks for the milk, gentlemen. Perhaps we can help you out some time." And in another minute the canoe was skimming away towards the point, where the Union Jack hung idly against a background of firs, but just before the Englishman was out of hearing the big grad yelled, "Tell the Governor-General that the fish were caught and sent by Bobbie."
"All right," came faintly across the distance, with a wave of the smart little cap, and a bright backward smile from the handsome Englishman.
The Saucy Seven looked at each other, then the big grad simply expressed things in one explosive "Well!"