The sun seemed unusually warm this morning, so Will declared that he
meant to tramp over to the lake and try a little fishing, since they
would have small opportunity to do any of this when the cold winds
came again.
"I'm on too," remarked Bluff, moodily; "a fellow without a gun is like a
fifth wheel to a wagon, useless in camp. Let's make up some lunch, for
it's a long tramp, and we won't come home until late."
Jerry announced that he wanted to go over and have a further talk with
Jesse Wilcox; after which he might take a tramp in a new region
advised by the old trapper as opening a possible chance for big
game--perhaps a deer.
Frank declared he would stick to the camp; with such vicious characters
around, he secretly thought it hardly safe for all of them to go away,
leaving old Toby as the sole guardian. They had too much at stake, since
their pleasure would be destroyed if the camp were raided successfully.
Reaching the lake Will spent much of his time taking views, while Bluff
set to work trying to entice the finny denizens of the water to bite
his lures.
As time went on he was fairly successful, and when they ate their lunch
he had quite a fair string of fish as the reward of his diligence.
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