"It does, pretty nearly," said Eleanor, with a smile. "One usually only
rides over one once--after that one walks, and is glad of the chance."

When, after a three-mile tramp, Eleanor, who was in front, stopped
suddenly at a point where the trees thinned out, on top of a ridge, and
called out, "Here's the lake, girls!" there was a wild rush to reach her
side. And the view, when they got the first glimpse of it, was certainly
worth all the trouble it had caused them.

Before them stretched a long body of water, sapphire blue in the
twilight, with pink shadows where the setting sun was reflected. Perhaps
two miles long, the lake was, at its widest point, not more than a
quarter of a mile across, whence, of course, came its name. About it
the land sloped down on all sides, into a cup-like depression that
formed the lake, so that there was, on all four sides, a tree crowned
ridge. From a point about half way to the far end of the lake smoke rose
in the calm evening air.

"Oh, how beautiful!" cried Bessie. "It's the loveliest place I ever saw.
And how wonderful the smell is."

"That's from the pine trees," said Eleanor. She sighed, as if overcome
by the calm beauty of the scene, as, indeed, she was. "It's always
beautiful here--but Sometimes I think it's most beautiful in winter,
when the lake is covered with ice, and the trees are all weighed down
with snow. Then, of course, you can walk or skate all over the
lake--it's frozen four and five feet deep, as a rule, by January."

Dolly shivered.