they spoke of him, and wondered if anything had happened, and pulled
their boat to a new position, while the overtaxed youth subsided
into fitful slumber. Theodore finally awoke him, and said that they
proposed to light up the jack, if he would take the spear, and they
would push out to deeper water, and try for bass. Bart stared about
him uncomprehendingly for a moment. "Oh, Theodore, my fishing days
are over! I will never 'wound the gentle bosom of this lake' with fish
spear, or gig, or other instrument; and I've backed this old rifle
around for the last time to-day."

"Bart, think of all our splendid times in the woods!"

"What a funny dream I had: I dreamed I was a young Indian, not John
Brown's 'little Indian,' but a real red, strapping, painted young
Indian, and our tribe was encamped over on the west side of this
Indian lake, by Otter Point; and I was dreadfully in love with the
chief's daughter."

"Who didn't love you again," said Theodore.

"Of course not, being a well-brought up young Indianess: and I went
to the Indian spring, that runs into the pond, just above 'Barker's
Landing,' that you all know of."

"I never knew that it was an Indian spring," said Young.

"Well, it is," replied Bart. "It has a sort of an earthen rim around
it, or had a few minutes ago; and the water bubbles up from the
bottom. Well, you drop a scarlet berry into it, and if it rises and
runs over the rim, the sighed-for loves you, or she don't, and I have