"I declare! It's a shame to stay here any longer!" announced Cleo finally, although the joy had not been entirely consumed.
"Do you mean you're ashamed of eating so much?" asked Grace.
"No, but it's a pity to waste this glorious day in, just staying around camp. Let's go down to the brook, river or whatever it is."
"And may we fish?" asked Margaret.
"I think so. I'll ask Zeb if there are some rods that may be trusted to amateurs," replied the Captain.
There were, as it developed, and presently equipped with all that was needed for the sport, the little party set off through the woods, following a direction Zeb gave them to locate the best fishing place.
It was no new experience for the quartette, led by the Captain, to hike through the woods, but something really new awaited them this time, as they soon discovered to their sorrow.
Cleo was in the lead and, after plunging through a rather thick growth of underbrush, she suddenly uttered a cry.
"What is it—a snake?" asked Margaret, who followed.
"If it is, don't get excited," warned the Captain, who heard the exclamation. "There are absolutely no poisonous snakes in this vicinity, and any other kind is more frightened of you than you can possibly be of him, girls," she insisted.