"All right," said Ben, heading the boat for the bank. "Let me take an
oar, Ben," said Larry, whose experience upon the world of waters was not
any too wide.

"Here, where you goin'," cried Mop, as the boat slowly but surely
pointed toward the cedars. "You stop pulling, Ben. Now, Larry, pull
around again. There now, she's right. Pull, Ben." But Ben sat rigid with
his eyes intent upon the cedars.

"What's the matter, Ben?" said Larry. Still Ben sat with fixed gaze.

"By gum, he's in, boys," said Ben in a low voice. "I thought he had his
nest in one of them stubs."

"What is it--in what stub?" inquired Larry, his voice shrill with
excitement.

"That big middle stub, there," said Ben. "It's a woodpecker. Say, let's
pull down and see it." Under Mop's direction the old scow gradually made
its way toward the big stub.

They explored the stub, finding in it a hole and in the hole a nest, the
mother and father woodpeckers meanwhile flying in wild agitation from
stub to stub and protesting with shrill cries against the intruders.
Then they each must climb up and feel the eggs lying soft and snug in
their comfy cavity. After that they all must discuss the probable time
of hatching, the likelihood of there being other nests in other stubs
which they proceeded to visit. So the eager moments gaily passed into
minutes all unheeded, till inevitable recollection dragged them back