XXI
SPRING AND ITS SPORTS
“How’s this for a morning?” was Ben’s hearty greeting, some weeks later when spring had finally arrived.
“Great!” shouted the boys, coming from the cabin for a few whiffs of the balmy air.
It was indeed a glorious day, and they sat with the door of the cabin wide open, that they might drink in the fragrance of the pines. The snow had long since disappeared, and the lake, now free of its icy fetters, flashed and glistened in the strengthening sunshine. A smoky blue haze hovered over the woods, and the trees showed signs of leafing. The tops of the soft maples were ablaze with masses of tiny red blossoms; the fuzzy, fur-like buds of the “pussy-willows” were out; and down in the damp places the purple blades of the “skunk cabbage” were pushing their way upward through the moist soil.
The notes of the returned birds came floating in through the open door—the soft, pleasing warble of the blue-birds, which Ben said returned to him year after year; the rollicking song of the robin, which usually built its muddy nest over one of the windows; and the calls of mating crows which flew noisily along above the tree-tops.
“Guess we’ll tap the trees to-day,” said Ben, when breakfast was over. “Sap ought to run now. What do you say?”
“Yes, let’s try it,” urged the boys, eagerly, anxious for a new experience.
“All right; we’ll put up a bite and be off, for we have quite a distance to go.”
The lunch was soon supplied and neatly packed. Provided with several pails, an ax, and an auger, they set out for the distant hardwood ridge, where, Ben said, they would find a little grove of sugar-maples.
It was far easier walking through the woods than it had been in the winter. The guide was in jovial spirits, and constantly called the attention of his companions to the many signs of awakening life about them. At one sandy place beneath the pines he stopped and sniffed the air suggestively.