paddled on, mile after mile, singing, laughing,
talking, following the winding course of the river down to its
mouth, and back into the wide waters of Loon Lake, toward the
camp which they had come to speak of as "home." The boys of
Mountain Lake Camp, having their swimming hour, saw the three
canoes passing out in the lake and heard the song of the girls
floating in on the wind, as their voices kept time to the dipping
of their paddles:

"Oh, the laughing life,
Oh, the joyous strife
As my paddlers, struggling, bend low,
And the big rocks sing
To the River King,
And the waters forever flow!"

CHAPTER XII.

NOW OUR CAMP FIRE'S BURNING LOW.

"It doesn't seem possible that the summer is nearly over and we
are going home next week," said Migwan. "It seems like only
yesterday that we came. And yet, somehow I feel as if we had
always been here together. Won't it seem queer, not to be eating
and sleeping together any more?" The Winnebagos were taking a
walk down the road that ran along beside the woods, seeking
specimens of flowers and weeds. They could not help noticing the
changes in the trees and flowers along the way. Many of the
leaves were already crimson, and the wild asters were blooming in
profusion everywhere. The air had the cool, crisp clearness of
autumn. The sky had become that deep blue which marks the
passing of summer, and the clouds seemed thicker in texture. The
girls drank in the air in great draughts like strong new wine,
rejoicing in the glorious weather, yet it made them feel sad,
because it meant that this most wonderful of all summers was very
near its end. This would probably be their last nature walk, and
the girls were taking a sample of every growing thing that looked
in the least promising, and snapshotting all the dear familiar
scenes, to be taken home and shown to friends, and the events
connected with them lived over again in the telling!

Nyoda and Sahwah, covering the ground with their swift stride,
soon left the others far behind. "We really ought to wait for
the girls," said Nyoda, coming to a halt when she discovered that
they were so far in the lead, and seating herself on a stone
fence she helped herself to the blackberries which grew against
it, and held out a handful to Sahwah. Opposite them was an old,
tumble-down house, weatherbeaten and bare of paint, its empty
window sashes gaping like eyeless sockets. The girls had named
it the "