It was a beautiful day, clear and cold as they set off soon after daybreak. Their way led up the lake for about seven miles, then in through the thick forest for a trifle over a mile. The snow was fairly well packed and their snow-shoes sank but slightly making easy going.
“My, but it’s great to be alive,” Jack declared, breathing in deep breaths of the spruce laden air.
“Particularly up here in the Maine woods,” Bob agreed.
“You said a mouthful,” Jack laughed, as he stopped to tighten the thong of one of his shoes. “I don’t believe there’s another place in the world that’s so fine. Just taste that air.”
They were out on the lake some distance from the shore which, at this point curved sharply inward, as the traveling was much easier than through the woods.
“There’s the old cabin,” Bob said, after they had made about three miles. “Had we better go in and see if everything is all right?”
The cabin referred to was one belonging to their father and in, or rather, about which, they spent the most of their time in summer.
“Guess we might as well,” Jack replied. “It won’t take but a few minutes and we’ve got plenty of time. You got the key?”
“I think so, but wait a minute and I’ll see. Yes, here it is,” as he pulled it from his pocket.
They headed in and in a few minutes were on the porch of the cabin where they removed their snow-shoes.