“Do you think the sky looks as if it would be a clear day for the picnic?” now asked Dudley, anxiously, peering at a cloud as large as his hand.
“Sure thing! But I think we ought to get back to camp and go to bed so we can get up bright and early,” advised Fred.
So without further demur the boats were turned toward the float and the Islanders were soon climbing the path to the tents.
Early in the morning, came a clarion call that hastened the toilettes of the occupants of tents and bungalow—“Rouse ye Britons, Rouse ye Slaves!”
Billy sprang out of bed and waved his hand in token of obedience, as he saw his mother stand calling through the megaphone.
“Hurry up now, we’ve got a lot to do before we’re ready for the picnic,” advised Fred, pulling Paul out of his cot.
Breakfast was a hurried meal that morning as every one was busily engaged in getting everything needed to make the picnic at Spruce Island a success. Elizabeth and Fred were packing the big hamper with good things while Billy and Dudley were helping Mose and Mrs. Remington.
The wheel-barrow had been loaded three times and the picnic stuff transported from the commissary department of the bungalow to the float-stage before all was ready and waiting for the boat.
At the last moment Mrs. Remington saw Edith standing looking about for any forgotten item. Suddenly she called to the child.
“Oh, Edith! Don’t forget the nature books! You know Spruce Island is rich in specimens of wild flowers and you Woodcrafters will want to complete your lists of fifty varieties.”