“Summer, of course, you goose,” exclaimed Prudence.
“Of course; winter would be different, wouldn’t 162 it?” Alice was laughing, but Prudence was quite serious.
“Yes; that’s the worst of all Nature’s finest handiwork. There’s always some drawback to it. Ugh, winter in this place would be too dreadful to contemplate. These wilds are only fit for Indians and coyotes and wolves when the summer is over.”
“But it’s a heavenly spot now,” said Alice. Suddenly she raised her whip and pointed. Far down, out upon the surface of the silvery belt of water, a tiny speck was slowly moving. At first so distant was it that it appeared to be stationary, but after a while it was distinctly to be seen moving. “What is it?” she questioned sharply.
“Looks like a boat,” replied Prudence. “I wonder whose?”
“I give it up. Does Mr. Iredale keep a boat?”
Although Prudence was the elder of the two girls she was much the simpler. She was essentially of the prairie. She had no suspicion of the apparently innocent inquiry.
“I don’t think so. I never really heard. No; I should think that must belong to some Indians or half-breed fishermen. There are some of those people about, I believe.”
She continued to watch the boat for some moments. The less serious girl beside her allowed her attention to wander. Prudence saw the boat approach the near shore. Then it disappeared under the shadow of the towering pines. An exclamation from Alice drew her attention.
“Look over the other side, Prue; there’s another boat. It has just shot out from that great clump of 163 undergrowth. Why, there are a dozen people in it. Look! they are racing along. Where’s the other gone?”