It did not take long to bail out the boat, however, and before many moments had elapsed the mainsail was hoisted and the Balsam was ready to weigh her anchor and start. The sail flapped idly in the breeze which seemed to be dying down instead of freshening as Grant had predicted. The boom swung back and forth, the pulleys rattling violently as the sheet dragged them first to one side and then the other.
John and Fred sat on the bottom of the boat and waited for their companions to appear with the luncheon. The two boys were dressed in bathing jerseys and white duck trousers. At least they had formerly been white, but constant contact with boats and rocks had colored them considerably. The feet of the young campers were bare, they having removed the moccasins which they usually wore. The day was warm and in fact the sun was quite hot. The previous night had been so cool it did not seem possible that it could be followed by a warm day, but such is often the case in the Adirondacks.
“Where do you suppose they are?” exclaimed Fred at length. “It seems to me they ought to have been ready by this time.”
“Here they come now,” said John. “Look at Pop; that basket is almost as heavy as he is.”
“He’s got lots of food in it, I guess. I’m glad too for I’m hungry already.”
“Why, you finished breakfast only about an hour ago.”
“I can’t help that. I’m always hungry in this place.”
“Ahoy there!” shouted George from the shore. “Come in and get us.”
“The other canoe doesn’t leak you know,” replied John, neither he nor Fred making any move to do as George had asked.
“We know that,” called George. “What’s the use of taking them both out there though?”