Early the next morning they were in their canoes again, ready to start off. This time Miss Phillips kept her map in view so that there could be no chance of a mistake; and she designated Frances Wright and Ethel Todd—the two oldest girls in the troop—to take the lead.
For the next few days they progressed steadily onward. Always on the water by nine o’clock, and pausing only an hour for lunch, they continued until four; then with the aid of the map, Miss Phillips watched for the best camping place.
All had gone well thus far; and by Saturday morning they were practically on schedule time.
“Have you ever been over this stream before, Captain?” asked Marjorie, as the canoes set off from the shore together.
“No, never,” replied Miss Phillips.
“Well, then how did you know all about making the map, and the best sites for our camps, and——?”
The captain smiled. “Mr. Remington, the scoutmaster, took it once, and recommended it to me. It was he who made the maps for us.”
“It certainly is lovely,” observed Marjorie. “I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful trip.”
“And don’t forget what awaits at the other end,” put in Ruth, with a tone of joyous anticipation.
“Except for the water meet!” sighed Doris. “Do you know, Captain Phillips, the idea of our racing and doing all those stunts sort of scares me—before all those strange people, I mean. Do we all have to take part?”