"Why, cross the lake, of course—if Nat doesn't mind."
"Oh, I'm not tired out yet, Somers," protested Nat. "Certainly we'll get over on the other side, and have a camp to ourselves, eh, Hacky?"
"Right you are! Face about—forward march!"
"It's time you exercised your muscle again on one of these sleds, Hackett," complained Dick Travers.
"Oh, I forgot! Really, my little tired-out friend, I forgot," grinned Hackett, seizing the rope.
"I don't call this any picnic," observed Sam, as they headed for the opposite shore.
"Nor I, either," said Tom. "We get the full force of the wind—cracky, my feet are getting like lumps of ice."
In spite of their hard traveling, the boys kept up a good pace, and soon the opposite shore began to assume definite form. It was hilly and well wooded.
"We had better divide up in two parties," suggested Bob; "we ought to strike a place quicker that way."
"All right," said Dick. "Come on, Bob and Chubby; let's see what we can find."