“There’s one thing about your outfit that doesn’t look just right,” said Uncle Joe, pointing to the heavy bait-rod which his nephew placed in the corner beside his long bow. “The idea of catching trout with a thing like that, and worms for bait! Before you go into the woods again I will see that you have a nice light fly-rod.”
Joe said he thought he could, and there the matter rested for a whole year.
The next morning at four o’clock Joe Wayring was sitting on the wharf in front of the boat-house, watching Arthur Hastings, who was coming up the lake in the skiff. When he arrived Joe passed down to him two cases, one containing his long bow and quiver, the other his bait-rod and dip-net, a bundle of blankets, a soldier’s knapsack with a change of clothing in it, and the contents of a big market basket. The basket itself was left on the wharf, because it would have taken up too much valuable space in the lockers. Mars, the Newfoundlander, begged to go, too, and growled spitefully at Arthur’s little cocker spaniel, which growled defiantly back at him from his safe perch on the stern locker. Jim (that was the spaniel’s name), always went on these expeditions as body-guard and sentinel. He seemed to have a deep sense of the responsibility that rested upon him, and the arrogant and overbearing manner in which he conducted himself toward strangers, proved that he considered himself to be of some consequence in the world. He was a featherweight and took up but little room; while the Newfoundlander’s huge bulk would have been sadly in their way. They might as well have added another boy to the party.
Having stowed his supplies and equipments away in the lockers, Joe picked up an oar and assisted Arthur to pull the skiff up to Mr. Sheldon’s boat-house, where they found Roy waiting for them. He soon transferred himself and his belongings from the wharf to the cock-pit, and then the skiff went at a rapid rate across the lake toward the river, the boys chanting a boat song as they steadily plied the oars. They paused a moment at the head of the rapids, and as they gazed at them, Arthur said—
“How do you suppose Matt Coyle ever succeeded in getting that big heavy punt of his down there? I wouldn’t make the passage in her for all the money there is in Mount Airy.”