Then they awoke one morning to find the exact sort of a day they had been wishing for. It was bright and warm, without the slightest trace of a breeze to stir the placid, mirror-like surface of the lake. If it continued so until darkness, the boys knew they would realize the anticipation of weeks. On such a night Ben had promised to take them on the lake to spear eels and suckers. He had carefully stipulated that the night must be calm, otherwise the expedition would be useless. The slightest rippling of the water would prevent them from seeing into it along shore and discovering their finny prey.
“If it’s calm to-night, how about spearing?” asked Ed, hopefully, when they were at dinner.
“I’ve just been thinking about that,” laughed Ben. “I guess we can go to-night, from the way things look now. We’ll go out, presently, and cut some pine knots. Then, if we don’t go, we’ll have them on hand for the next time.”
“Hurrah!” cried Ed. “Now for some fun.”
When the table had been cleared and things tidied up after the meal, Ben stood on a chair and reached aloft among the cross-logs near the roof. He brought down two long poles, each of them tapered at one end to fit into an iron socket which had four sharply pointed prongs, or spear-points.
He placed the poles against the outside of the cabin, and, bidding the boys fetch two sacks, strode away into the woods, ax in hand. He searched until he found the kind of log he wanted. This chanced to be a fallen pitch-pine. Making his way to it, Ben began chopping out the knots.
“I’m taking the fat off,” he laughed.
The lads were at a loss to understand, until he explained that the oily pitch, or resin, collected at the knots, and was known to woodsmen as “fat.” He said it was highly inflammable, and was used for torches and brilliant fires. Ben showed them how to distinguish a “fat” knot from a dry or “lean” one, and pointed out the differences by which they might know one variety of dead tree from another.
Ed and George gathered the knots and placed them in the bags. They staggered gamely along under their loads, until Ben declared they had sufficient knots for their purpose. Then they returned to the cabin, and dropped their burdens thankfully before the door.
All day they anxiously scanned the sky, the trees, and the surface of the water for signs of the dreaded breeze. When the sun finally set and twilight fell, while still the bosom of the lake lay smooth and unruffled, they began to feel easier.