"I call it very good," declared the doctor's son. "To-morrow we can
have quail on toast."

"Where are you going to get the toast?" questioned Whopper.

"Well, we'll have quail on crackers then," put in Giant.

Stowing the quail away in the bow of the boat, they went on through
the gathering darkness. The sun had gone down over the hills in the
west, casting long shadows across the little watercourse.

"It will be pretty dark by the time we reach Firefly Lake," said
Snap, and he was right. It was cloudy too, and a stiff breeze from
the east had begun to blow.

"We'll have to take care how we pitch our tent to-night," was
Whopper's comment. "Unless I miss my guess, we'll have rain by
to-morrow morning."

"Oh, don't say that!" cried Giant. "I don't want it to rain yet."

"It won't hold off for you or anybody else," returned Snap. "Whopper
is right, we must stake our tent well and allow for the water to run
off---if rain does come."

When they at last rounded the final turn and swept into Firefly Lake
it was so dark they could see little or nothing ahead. But they
remembered the locality and had little trouble in reaching a spot
where they had camped once before. But the snows of the previous