"SILENCE!" roared Billy Bowlegs, "the court cannot be heard." Billy's father was sheriff of his county, and Billy had often heard him make more noise in commanding silence in the court room than the room full of people were making by requiring the caution.
Silence succeeding the laughter which Billy's unfilial mimicry had provoked, Sam resumed his explanation.
"There's a creek down there about a hundred yards, which runs into the river. It is a small affair, but is pretty well up now, and my plan is to make the canoe here and paddle her down the creek to the river while the water is high."
"Hurrah! now for work!" shouted the boys, who by this time had finished their breakfast.
"Where's your timber, Sam?" asked Tom, bringing in the axes and adze out of the tent.
Sam had taken pains to select a proper tree for his purpose, a gigantic poplar more than three feet in diameter, which lay near the creek, where it had fallen several years before.
When the boys saw it, they looked at Sam in astonishment.
"Why, Sam, you don't mean to work that great big thing into a dug-out, do you?" asked Sid Russell.
"Why not, Sid?" asked Sam.
"Why, its bigger'n a dozen dug-outs."