“It’s catching, as the fly-paper said to the fly,” finished Tom.  “Let’s call it square and take a new tack.  Who’s in for a swim when we reach the end of the lake?”

“I am!” was the united cry from the others.  They were passing several small islands and now came to another turn in Bass Lake.  Just beyond this was a small sandy beach, backed up by a mass of rocks and brushwood.

“That looks like a good place for a swim,” said Powell, forgetting all about his so-called poetry.

“Suits me,” returned Tom.  “Let’s pull ashore and tie the boat fast, and I’ll put up—­”

“A peanut reward for the first fellow in,” finished Fred.  “Caught you that time, Tom, just as you caught Songbird with his doggerel.”

As happy as any boys could be, the four cadets tied up their boat.  In doing this one started to splash in the water, followed by another, and as a consequence before the cutting-up came to a finish the seats of the craft were pretty well wetted.

“Never mind,” said Tom.  “They’ll soon dry in the sun.  We can put our clothes on the rocks.”

The boys were soon in the water and having a most glorious time.  The lake was fairly deep off the end of the boat and here they took turns at diving.  Fred and Songbird also went in for a race, the former coming in only a few feet ahead.

“I guess we had better dress now and try our hand at fishing,” said Sam after nearly an hour had passed.

“One more dive!” cried Tom and took one full of grace, to the very bottom of the lake.

As Tom came up to the surface he heard a cry from Sam, quickly followed by a yell from Fred.

“What’s up?” he called out, swimming toward the shore.

“Land on the boat, Tom!” cried Sam, and leaped into the craft, followed by Fred and Powell.

“All right; but what is wrong?” asked Tom, and climbed tip over the stern.

“We can’t get our clothes.”

“Why not?”

“Look for yourself.”

Tom looked and gave a low whistle of astonishment.  And not without good reason, for there on the rocks where they had left their garments rested a big black snake!

“This is interesting truly,” murmured the boy, gazing at his companions in dismay.

“I’m going to get a rock and throw it at the snake,” said Sam.

A stone was close to the boat, and watching his chance, he picked it up and threw it at the reptile.

The snake darted to one side.  It was merely grazed by the rock and now it hissed viciously.

The hiss appeared to be a signal, and in a moment more another snake and then another appeared, until fully a dozen reptiles each a yard or more in length covered the rocks where all of the cadets’ wearing apparel rested!

CHAPTER XXIII

A GLIMPSE OF AN OLD ENEMY

“We are in a pickle now and no mistake!” groaned Fred Garrison.  He hated snakes as much as he did poison.