"It's a dandy too, sir!" exclaimed Paul, as he saw a flash of rainbow colors, when the big trout jumped wildly into the air, trying to break loose by falling on the line; "keep a tight pull on him, sir, and if he drags too hard let him have just a little more line. Oh! but he's a beauty."
So coaching Mr. Gordon by degrees, he finally got the landing net ready; and after the prize had been played until almost exhausted it was lifted upon the raft with one swift and accurate movement.
After that the fishing seemed to slacken. Though the lake was undoubtedly just teeming with fish, still they had their times for feeding, and between these nothing could induce them to take hold.
Later in the day there were swimming tests started, and Mr. Gordon, who was at home in this sport, showed the boys many tricks whereby their prowess in the water might be doubled.
Paul had dressed, having cut his foot a trifle while walking on the rocks. He and the scoutmaster, were standing there talking, Mr. Gordon still had on his swimming trunks.
"I was just thinking, Paul," he remarked, "what a queer lake this is. Have you noticed that it seems to have no visible outlet? Possibly some of its waters manage to get to the Bushkill
because there are several streams running in; but where does it flow out?"
"Why, yes," returned Paul, "I did notice that. I suppose there must be an outlet in the bottom of the lake somewhere."
"Just what I had concluded; and it would stand to reason that such a hole might be somewhere near here. I'm a little anxious, because I've had an experience myself with such a sucker-hole, and came near losing my life in one. I managed to get hold of rocks on the bottom, and clawed my way outside the terrible suction that was drawing me steadily in toward the centre."
"Why, I noticed a peculiar swirl down just below where the boys are swimming now. There, Andy Flinn has dived right into the spot! Oh! I hope nothing will happen to Andy, sir. Perhaps you'd better call them out, right away!"