“Everything this side of Chamberlain Lake flows north and empties into the St. John River,” Bob told him.
A paddle of about fifteen miles brought them to another small lake some four miles long.
“What lake is this?” Rex asked.
“Pataquongamas Pond,” Bob replied.
“Pata who?”
“You pronounce the first syllable and then sneeze the rest,” Jack laughed.
“Can you tell me why they give the smallest lakes up this way the longest names?” Rex asked.
“It’s an Indian idea,” Bob told him. “They are great on big names.”
As they entered the pond, Rex, who had by this time acquired considerable skill with the paddle, and Jack took their turn, and the canoe shot out onto the pond in a fresh burst of speed.
“How long do you think you can keep that pace up?” Bob asked.