“This is the ideal life,” said Jack, as he was undressing. “A fellow doesn’t have to have any appetizing sauce for what he eats and he doesn’t have to be rocked to sleep.”
“My dad always said that it made a new man of him to spend a week or two up here in the woods,” answered Gif.
In the morning the boys took their usual plunge in the lake and after breakfast decided to take one of the rowboats and go up to Big Bear Cove and try their hand at fishing. Fred had noted a certain hole under some large overhanging trees where he was certain they would be able to get some pickerel of good size.
As they had done the day before, they took a lunch with them so that there would be no hurry about getting back. And this was just as well, because once they were at the fishing they found the sport so fine that they hated to think of giving it up. Each one of them caught both perch and pickerel, and one of the finny tribe landed by Jack weighed at least two pounds and a half, while another, caught by Spouter, weighed almost as much.
“We’ll have fish enough for several days,” said Gif.
“If only we can keep some of them alive,” answered Randy.
“Oh, I think we can. I’ve been fixing up that pound in the brook, you know.”
The day was not without its surprises. Once Randy was standing on a small point of rocks and had what he thought was a magnificent catch. Suddenly the fish whisked around and before the lad could save himself he lost his balance and went into the lake with a big splash.
“Hurrah! Randy’s gone in swimming with all his clothes on!” cried Andy.
“Don’t let the fish pull you away,” called out Fred gayly.