we rowed, or he may have wanted a
bath. Anyhow he jumped overboard, but he'll be all right."

"See him go!" cried the hired man.

Nicknack was swimming quite fast. Of course a goat is not as good a
swimmer as is a duck or a fish, but Ted's pet did very well. On shore
were Nora, Mrs. Martin, Janet, Trouble, and the farm hand who had gone
over in the first boatload. They were watching the goat swimming toward
them.

"Did you throw him into the water, Teddy?" asked Janet, as soon as the
boat was near enough so that talking could be heard.

"He jumped in," Ted answered. "Isn't he a good swimmer?"

"I should say so! Here, Nicknack! Come here!" Janet called.

The goat, which had been headed toward a spot a little way down the
island from where Janet and her mother stood, turned at the sound of the
little girl's voice and came in her direction.

"Oh, he knows me!" she cried in delight. "Now don't shake yourself the
way Skyrocket does, and get me all wet!" she begged, as Nicknack
scrambled out on shore, water dripping from his hairy coat.

But the goat did not act like a dog, who gives himself a great shaking
whenever he comes on shore after having been in the water. Nicknack just
let it drip off him, and began to nibble some of the grass that grew on
the island. He was making himself perfectly at home, it seemed.

The goat-wagon and the other things were soon landed, and then Grandpa
Martin and one of the hired men went back for the last load. When that
came back and the things were piled up near the tents, the work of
setting up the camp went on. There was much yet to be done.

Ted and Jan helped all they could in putting up the tents. So did Mother
Martin and Nora, who was large and strong. She could pull on a rope
about as well as a man, and there were many ropes that needed tightening
and fastening around pegs driven into the ground so the tents would not
blow over in the wind.

Nicknack had been tied to a tree, near which, a little later, Ted and
Jan were going to make him a little bower of leaves and branches. That
was to be his stable until a better one could be built by Grandpa
Martin--one that would keep Nicknack dry when it rained.

At last the tents were up, one for sleeping, another for cooking, and a
third where the Curlytops and the others would eat their meals. It was a
fine camp that Grandpa Martin made, and he knew just how to do it right,
even to digging little trenches, or ditches, around the te