“Den wait to dinnertime at camp!” said Tally, unthinkingly.
The rest of the morning was passed in dodging great rocks, passing through arched aisles, where the water cut a way through the timber, or again rocking perilously in a seething bowl of froth, to be shot out at the other side, and then ride along on smooth water.
That noonday they landed on a blossoming meadow for camp. The canoes were taken from the water and turned over on the beach, while the Indians hunted for food to cook for dinner. Two of them started for an inland pond where they saw flocks of wild duck, and John began to catch fish for cooking.
Mrs. Vernon took charge of the fire, and the scouts made bread, set the dishes out and did other chores. Julie and Joan had been sent to hunt for a fresh spring of water, and in passing the canoes where they had been left, Joan said, “The lake’s like a millpond.”
“I’d like to paddle across to the other side and climb that steep knoll. I bet there’s a fine view from there,” said Julie.
“Verny would have a fit!” declared Joan, looking back but not seeing the camp, as the bank hid it from sight.
“It wouldn’t take long, and I’m dying to try these canoes,” suggested Julie.
“Come on, then,” responded Joan. “I suppose it’s safe.”
“Of course, and Tally said we might try at noon-time.”
“We’ll just shoot over and back again,” said Joan, as the two girls managed to carry the canoe to the water.