One day, however, Chot gave notice that the journey was to be resumed the following morning, and the other boys with a sigh of regret, packed their belongings into the canoes and made ready to shove off into the lake at daybreak.
Greatly to their satisfaction Bert, after a short talk with his parents, announced his intention of going with them.
“That’s fine,” said Chot. “I’ve been hating to ask you because I was sure you were going to say you could not go.”
So Bert’s canoe was packed with a few things he most desired to carry, and placed in the water at the edge of the lake with the others before the boys went to bed that night.
When they arose, the sun was just peeping over the hill-top. They found that Mrs. Creighton had prepared one of her fine breakfasts of wheat cakes and maple syrup, with coffee and pure cream on the side, and the way they ate and the comments they made were very gratifying to her. She would miss their smiling faces and good appetites, she told them, as they were leaving.
“There is nothing so inspiring to the woman who prepares a meal as to have people eat it and know they enjoy it,” said she.
The boys assured her that they had never had better things to eat in their lives, and after a hearty handshake all around, with Mr. and Mrs. Creighton standing on the little wharf, waving their hands, the five canoes pushed off and went skimming over the water to the northward.
“We’ll keep along the east shore for a while,” said Bert, “until we see how much of a breeze is coming up to-day. It gets pretty rough out in the middle there sometimes—rough for canoes, I mean.”
They accepted his advice, knowing that he was familiar with every corner of the lake, and paddled easily for nothing was to be gained by hurrying.
Bert showed himself to be a fine canoeist. They all admired his long, graceful stroke with the single blade. His canoe was of the Canadian pattern, much like those owned by Chot, Tom and Pod, and of about the same size.