“Let us try our luck at Firefly Lake,” suggested Whopper.  “That isn’t as large as this lake, but it is certainly a nice sheet of water.  And the hunting around there ought to be just as good as around here.”

The others said they were willing, and a little later they made their way out of Lake Cameron and sent the rowboat along the rocky watercourse in the direction of Firefly Lake.  It was now past noon, yet nobody was in the humor for eating.

“The more I think of Andrew Felps the madder I get,” said Shep.  “I don’t see how a man can be so mean.  It wouldn’t have hurt him a bit to have let us stay there.”

“I hope he has no luck at hunting,” grumbled Giant.  “He deserves to go home skunked.”

“He will get some game—–­or his guides will get it for him,” said Snap.  “I wonder if it is possible that he has bought up Firefly Lake, too.”

“My gracious, that’s so!” ejaculated Whopper.  “No use of going there if he has.  He’ll root us out sooner or later.”

“Firefly Lake belongs to half a dozen people,” said Giant.  “Why, come to think of it, one of my uncles had an interest up there.”

“Then I reckon we’ll be safe.”

It was no easy matter to guide the rowboat through the narrow and swiftly flowing river they were now on, and the young hunters had to give all their attention to the task.  Once or twice they struck the rocks rather sharp blows, but no damage was done, for which they were thankful.

“One thing is certain,” said Snap, when a wider part of the watercourse was gained.  “That gasolene launch can never follow us to this lake.  It’s too large.”

“Yes, and the tramp from one lake to the other is not easy,” added Shep.  “Old Jed Sanborn told me that.”

“Won’t Jed be angry when he learns that Felps has bought up Lake Cameron,” put in Giant.  “That was one of his favorite hunting and fishing places.”

They had to go so slow through some portions of the stream that it was nightfall by the time Firefly Lake was reached.  It was clouding up, and when the sun went down not a star showed itself.

“This looks as if we were going to have rain before morning,” was Shep’s comment.  “Just our luck—–­to be caught in the open.”

“Don’t croak,” said Snap.  “No matter what comes, let us make the best of it.”

It was almost impossible in the fast gathering darkness to distinguish one part of the shore from another, and they did not know where to land.  Seeing a small cove, they made for it, and pulled the rowboat up among some bushes.  Then they gathered some firewood, started a blaze, and set about getting a meal which should be a dinner and supper combined.

“Well, I am hungry now and no mistake,” said Whopper.  “I think I could eat snakes’ eggs on toast or pickled eels’ feet.”

The camp-fire made things look more cheerful, and a hearty meal did much toward restoring good humor.  Yet the boys felt sore over the way Andrew Felps had treated them, and for this they could not be blamed.