“I never knew a canoe weighed so much,” grunted Dan, stumbling over a log. “I’ll bet the Chicora isn’t half so heavy as this pesky thing!”
“Wish we’d brought only one of them,” said Tom, who was struggling with the other. “Don’t see what we needed two for. You fellows wouldn’t let me bring things that were really necessary, but you had to saddle us with a canoe that isn’t needed at all.”
“Dry up, Tommy,” said Nelson. “You’re doing finely, if only you’d lift your feet now and then. Talking about unnecessary things, now, I don’t see what you have two feet for; one of them is big enough for any ordinary person. Look out there! I told you so!”
Thereupon burdens were set down, not unwillingly, while the canoe was lifted off of the prostrate form of Tom and balanced over his shoulders again.
“Well, we’re almost there,” said Bob encouragingly. “And this is the last time we’ll have to lug things.”
“Almost there!” grumbled Tom. “You’ve been saying that ever since we started. Don’t believe there is any ‘there’!”
But there was, and presently it came into sight, a narrow strip of blue water just barely ruffled in the breeze. When they reached the bank they laid aside their loads and stretched themselves out gratefully in the shade.
Bob, who appeared the least fatigued of the party, got out the tin cup and served drinking water and was called blessed. Nelson took the camera from the case and snapped it several times at the recumbent forms. Then the canoes were slipped into the water and the luggage arranged again. This time Nelson and Bob paddled together, and Dan and Tom. As they started away Tom waved his arm politely toward the trail through which they had journeyed.
And Dan was heard threatening that if he ever said anything like that again he would be tipped out of the canoe.
“And this time,” added Dan, “I won’t jump in and rescue you!”
Noon saw them opposite Beacon Point, and heading across the water they found a comfortable spot and drew the canoes up on to a tiny sandy beach. They had provided themselves with a cold lunch for the first meal and they ate it lying around on their elbows or stretched flat on their backs in the shade of a big white birch which fluttered its leaves above their faces. The lunch was principally sandwiches and gingerbread and apples, but it tasted better than any meal they had eaten for a long time, and Tom begged to be allowed to attack the other supplies after his share of the feast had vanished. He was heartlessly denied and presently fell asleep, where he lay and snored beautifully in four distinct keys for half an hour. Perhaps the others slept a little as well. The sun was delightfully warm and life held no cares.
