“I don’t suppose it’s more than three, yet,” hinted Hal, when, uncertain as to what to do next, to make time fly, they paused and wiped their hands on their trousers-legs.
“I suppose not,” agreed Ned, noting the height of the sun. “But don’t let’s wait till five, this time,” he proposed. “Let’s run the lines now, just for the fun of it.”
Hal needed no persuasion. Leaving Bob to be watchman over the camp, they pushed out again from shore.
[ CHAPTER V]
TURTLES, FISH, FROGS AND SNAKES
Aiming for the foot of the old raft, from which the first of their two trot-lines had been set out, Hal and Ned cut diagonally across the bayou.
Not a waft of air riffled the water; the sun was reflected from it as from a looking-glass, right into their faces, and proceeded to turn their complexions redder and redder. All around, the heads of curious turtles dotted the surface, disappearing as the boat drew near, and popping out again when it had passed. Here and there a hungry gar or dog-fish leaped into sight for an instant, while numerous king-fishers, brave in their blue and white, plumped down, with mighty splashes, for minnows.
The perspiration rolled from the face of Hal, who was at the sculling-oar; dripped into his eyes, and dropped off the end of his crimsoning nose. Yet doubtless he felt cooler than did Ned, who, idle in the bows, simply was baking instead of boiling.