“It always does come sudden,” his uncle answered. That was all he said. That was all he ever said about it the whole trip. But it was all he needed to say. Bennie felt deeply ashamed. He had failed on the very first climb! He resolved then and there that the next time he’d hang on to that rope with a death grip.
“Were you scared?” Spider whispered to him, as they got down to the trail where the snow had melted off, and could walk the last few feet of the way. “Gee, I was scared blue when I saw you goin’, till I spotted the tree, and knew you were goin’ to hit it. Hadn’t been there, though, you’d been a goner. Golly!”
“Sure I was scared,” said Bennie. “Didn’t have time to think much about it, though, before I hit the good old roots.”
Dumplin’ now dropped alongside.
“If it had been me,” he said, “I’d have knocked the tree down, and gone right on.”
“You’d ’a’ made an awful splash in the lake,” Bennie laughed, though his voice still trembled a little.
There were only three boats at the landing, and none of the boatmen had yet come down that day. They were waiting for the trail to be opened. But the hotel manager had told Uncle Billy how to find the oars, and loading the cameras and lunch into a couple of the skiffs, they pushed off, Bennie insisting on rowing one boat, and Lester the other. The lake was very still as they floated out over its blue water.
“It don’t look more’n ten feet deep to me,” said Bennie, glancing over the side. “There’s the old bottom.”
“Look up at the cliffs and take ten more strokes, and then look down,” said Mr. Stone from the other boat.
Bennie did so.