Young Hunters of the Lake Part 12

"Better keep them for supper," answered Snap. "We'll be good and hungry by night."

"As if I wasn't hungry enough now," growled Whopper.

Shep caught three perch hand running while Giant did not get a nibble.

The small member of the club was somewhat disappointed, but suddenly there came a tug that almost pulled him into the lake.

"Got something!" he sang out. "Must be a whale!"

"Maybe it's a maskalonge!" sang out Whopper. "Want any help?"

"No," was the reply, and then Giant began to play his catch with the skill of a natural born fisherman. Soon came a deft swing of the fis.h.i.+ng rod and out on the gra.s.sy bank landed a lake pickerel of good size.

"A pickerel!" cried Snap. "And a beauty."

"That's better than my three perch," was Shep's comment. "Giant, you're the fisherman of this club and no mistake."

The two boys continued to fish, both before lunch and after, and when they finally wound up their lines they had nine perch, two chub and two pickerel---certainly a very respectable haul.

"That means fish for both supper and breakfast," was Snap's comment.

"They'll taste fine, too, coming right out of the water."

Having put away the things used in getting lunch, the four boy hunters embarked once more, and the journey along the sh.o.r.e of Lake Cameron was resumed. As they had not a great distance to go, to reach the other end of the sheet of water, they took their time, watching the trees and bushes for a possible sight of game.

"There are your wild ducks," cried Whopper, after half a mile had been covered.

He pointed inland, to where there was a clearing among the trees, probably some marshy spot. Several wild ducks were settling down, and in a few seconds they were out of sight.

"Want to go ash.o.r.e?" asked Giant, who was rowing.

"I don't think so," answered Snap. "Perhaps we'll see some of them on the lake."

"I see three now!" called Whopper softly, and pointed almost dead ahead.

"Turn the boat into the bushes," ordered the leader of the club, and Giant did as commanded. Snap was already reaching for a shotgun, and Whopper and Shep did likewise.

The wild ducks had settled on the bosom of the lake and were paddling in the direction of the rowboat. They came on slowly, however, and the young hunters could scarcely wait until they got within gunshot.

Giant still had the oars and now he dropped one rather loudly on the bow. At once one of the ducks took alarm and arose in the air.

"They are flying away!" yelled Shep, and raised his shotgun. Bang!

spoke the weapon, and reports from the two other firearms followed.

One of the ducks came down heavily, while a second fluttered around badly wounded. The third flew off, apparently untouched.

"We must get that second one!" cried Snap, and fired once more.

But the wounded duck had reached the cover of some bushes and was not hit again. The rowboat was hastily turned in the direction and Snap and Whopper leaped ash.o.r.e. Then the duck tried to fly but a shot from Whopper's firearm laid it low. Soon the boys had both ducks on board and were examining the game.

"They are pretty plump," was Snap's comment, and he uttered the words with satisfaction.

"Not so bad for the first day's record," said Giant. "Fish and ducks."

"Now if we could only get some squirrels, a few rabbits, a deer, and three or four bears---" began Whopper.

"Do you want to bring down everything within ten miles the first day?"

demanded the doctor's son.

"I believe if Whopper was hunting lions he'd want to bring down a dozen the first clip," was Snap's comment. "Let me tell you there will be many days when we won't bring down a thing."

"Oh, I know that," answered Whopper. "I was only fooling. Say, it will be fine to have roast duck for dinner to-morrow, eh?" And he smacked his lips.

"Duck, stuffed with sage and onions!" murmured Giant, patting himself in the region of the stomach.

"No stuffings in this," cried the doctor's son. "I just want pure duck---a nice brown leg,---yum."

"Say, you make me duck-hungry already!" cried Whopper. "Let's go on, unless we are going to stay here for the rest of the day."

Once again the oars were taken up, and with scarcely a sound they moved along the sh.o.r.e of the lake. The sun was now well over to the hills in the west, and the trees along the sh.o.r.e cast long shadows over the rippling surface.

"No use of talking, such a spot as this is a regular Paradise," was Snap's comment. "I can tell you, there isn't anything like a life in the open!"

"Especially when it rains," suggested Giant.

"Or when you're caught in a blizzard," added Shep. "Do you remember that blizzard last Christmas?"

"Will we ever forget it," answered Giant. "Just the same, what Snap says is true---give me such an outing as this every time.

Some fellows are always hankering after the city---but I never did."

An hour later the young hunters reached the end of the lake, where a small, rocky watercourse joined that body of water to Firefly Lake. Here they went into camp, pitching their tent in a convenient spot among the trees. Over a bright campfire they cooked some of the fish to a turn, and took their time eating the meal. Then they sat around and chatted, and Giant told his chums something which interested them not a little.

CHAPTER X

THE STORY OF A STRANGE DISAPPEARANCE

The boys were talking about money matters in general and inheritances in particular when Giant mentioned the fact that his mother had some money coming to her, but could not get possession of it.

"You know my mother came from France," said the small member of the club. "She arrived in this country when she was about sixteen years of age, coming with an uncle, who was her guardian. My uncle's name was Pierre Dunrot, and he was by profession a teacher of ancient history."

"No wonder you always get your history lessons so easily," was Whopper's comment. "It must run in the blood."

"You keep quiet, Whopper, and let Giant tell us about this money,"

interposed Snap.

"After my mother was in this country about six years, she met my father and married him. My uncle approved of the match, although he told my mother he wished she had married a Frenchman instead of an American. They all went to live at a place called Watchville on the seacoast. My uncle was then writing a great work on ancient history to be issued in ten big volumes."

"Phew! I hope he didn't want any fellows to study it," murmured the doctor's son.