“Yes,” added Jack, with kindling eyes, “where those whoppers of speckled beauties are to be found, if looked for.”
“Yum! yum! speed the hour!” mumbled Nick; and of course no one needed to be told that already his thoughts were turning to the glowing camp fire, and the tempting odors that would arise when the coffee pot was on, and the pink trout sputtering in the several fryingpans.
And shortly afterward, breakfast having been eaten at the same restaurant, which had evidently laid in a new lot of supplies since their last raid, they entered the big lock, to have the boats elevated to the upper level.
[CHAPTER XIII]
THE GREAT INLAND SEA
It was just ten o’clock when the trio of little motor boats started out of the canal, and headed for the open lake far beyond. Long afterward they could look back, and see the stone electricity building between the two locks of the canal; and in imagination the picture as viewed from its top would haunt them, with the churning rapids occupying the center of the scene.
Leaving the canal at its juncture with the river, they were soon in the neck of the lake. Far as the eye could reach, and many times farther, stretched the sparkling water, as clear as crystal; and cold enough to satisfy any one, even on as hot a day as this August one promised to be.
At noon they found a good chance to go ashore. Nick of course was solemnly warned that this was sacred Canadian soil, and that on no account was he to try and purloin any strangely marked animals he might discover prowling around.