"I don't wish you
fellows any hard luck, but I hope you'll get a taste of it yourselves
just to know what it feels like."

Walter and Sparrer took warning from Hal's experience and saw to it that
their ears were well covered before they started on. As they drew near
the end of the lake Old Baldy and Mount Seward loomed up with a grandeur
and forbidding austerity that was almost menacing, and which was yet
grandly heroic. The long pier of Woodcraft Camp jutting out into the
lake was now clearly visible and on the end of it were two figures
waving greetings.

"It's the Big Chief and Mother Merriam! Let's give them the old yell!"
cried Upton.

They stopped and with Upton to lead sent the old Woodcraft yell ringing
down the lake--"Whoop-yi-yi-yi! Whoop-yi-yi-yi! Whoop-yi-yi-yi!
Woodcraft!" And even as the echoes flung it back from Old Baldy it was
returned to them in the mingled voices of a man and a woman. The doctor
and Mrs. Merriam were sending them welcome.

A few minutes later they reached the pier and were exchanging warm
greetings. Sparrer had felt a natural diffidence at the thought of
meeting the man of whom he had heard so much, but it vanished in the
first hand-clasp and by the time he had reached the snug cabin he felt
as if he had always known this great-hearted, kindly man and the
sweet-faced woman whom the others called "Mother." In a dim way he
understood the loyalty and affection of his comrades for these two who
were devoting their lives to the making of strong men from weak boys.

CHAPTER VI

SNOW-SHOES AND FISH

Around the great log fire that night Pat told Doctor Merriam about his
trip and his impressions of city life, winding up with the emphatically
expressed conviction that while it might be a good place to do business
it was no place in which to live, and that he would rather have a cabin
in the shadow of Old Baldy than a palace on Riverside Drive.

"So you don't envy Hal?" laughed the doctor.

"I do not!" roared Pat. "I wouldn't give the poorest muskrat pelt I ever
took to change places with him."

"Oh, you young savage!" cried the doctor. "Still, I share in a measure
your feeling. I have lived in many cities, but you see here I am buried
in the woods, and some of my friends wonder why. I'll tell you. It is
because here I can live simply, unaffectedly, true to myself and to God.
Here," he swept a hand toward the book-lined walls, "are my friends
ready to give me of inspiration