When Theo awoke the next day the novelty of his surroundings drove every thought of Greek pottery from his mind. As he peeped out of his window he could see slanting rifts of early sunlight flecking with gold the trunks of the great pines. From the chimney of the cookhouse a spiral of blue smoke was ascending and as it rose it carried into the air with it a pleasant odor of burning wood and frying bacon.
Theo did not dally with his dressing, you may be sure; he was far too hungry, and too eager to attack the program for the day.
"Put on thick boots, son," called Dr. Swift from his room. "The weather is fine. It is an ideal morning to tramp across Owl's Nest Carry and fish in the lake beyond there."
"What time is it, Father?" inquired Theo. "I forgot to wind my watch last night."
"Six o'clock. We shall have a three mile walk, and plenty of time to get in some fishing before the sun is high. Then we can paddle up-stream to the camp at the farther end of Owl Lake and cook our lunch. How does that plan please you?"
"Hurrah!" cried Theo. "Is there a camp like this over there?"
"Oh, no. Just a lean-to which serves as a shelter, if people want to spend the night and be on hand for early morning fishing. Sometimes, too, I have gone over in the late afternoon and fished until dark, afterward turning in on the pine boughs for the night. It is only a crude little camp, but it is perfectly comfortable. You will like Owl Lake. It is smaller than this one, but it has a very pretty shore bordered with a stretch of white sandy beach.
"It must be a great place for swimming."
"It is. Just now, however, the water is too cold. Later in the season when things get warmed up it is the finest bathing place imaginable. Are you ready for breakfast now?"
"Yes, sir."