“Not much,” assented the other, quickly. “Paul impressed it on us that to-day we must keep it in mind that ‘safety first’ is to be our motto. Besides, with all these bundles of grub and blankets and clothes-bags strapped and roped to our boats a fellow couldn’t do himself justice, I reckon.”
“No more he could, Tom. But we’re making good time for all that, and it isn’t going to be long before we pass Manchester, and reach the place where that old abandoned canal creeps across two 90 miles of country, more or less, to the Radway.”
“I can see the fellows who skated down ahead of us!” announced Tom, presently.
“Yes, they’re waiting to go through the canal with us,” assented Jack. “Wallace Carberry said they feared we might have a bad time of it getting the iceboats over to the Radway, and he corralled a few fellows with the idea of lending a hand.”
“They hate the worst kind to be left out of this camping game,” remarked Tom, “and want to see the last they can of us.”
A few minutes later and the skipper of the leading iceboat brought his speedy craft to a halt close to the shore, where several scouts awaited them. The other four craft soon drew up near by, thus finishing what they were pleased to call the “first leg” of the novel cruise.
It was decided to work their way through the winding creek the best way possible. In places it would be found advisable to push the boats, while now and then as an open stretch came along they might take advantage of a favorable wind to do a little sailing.
Two miles of this sort of thing would not be so bad. As Bobolink sang out, the worst was yet to come when they made the Radway, and had to ascend against a head wind that would necessitate skilful tacking to avoid an overturn.