“Look here,” he said, “you boys can be happy as kings, if you like, but you needn’t think you’re goin’ to be lazy. I’m goin’ to teach you how to lend a hand to the sails, and make yourselves useful aboard ship.” “Lazy?” cried Chap. “Rolling stones are never lazy. Boys,” he exclaimed, struck by a sudden inspiration, “let’s call ourselves ‘The Rolling Stones.’ It’s as good a name for us as it is for the boat, and we expect to roll on till we get home.” “Agreed!” cried Phil and Phœnix. And the name was adopted. They sailed all day, eating a slight lunch about noon, and it was decided to anchor toward the close of the afternoon, and eat their evening meal on shore. The boys were anxious to have wild duck for supper, and they shot three or four of these birds, Adam skilfully steering the boat so close to the floating game that it could easily be picked up. Some fish were caught, and a fine fire was kindled on the beach. Cups, saucers, and a few cooking utensils had been procured from Mr. Brewer, and with roast duck, fish, some bacon, corn-bread and biscuit, and hot coffee, the party made an excellent meal. They sat round the camp-fire on the river bank until it was nearly dark, and then they went on board The Rolling Stone, and having tied her up securely, and made all things tight and right, they stowed themselves away in the cabin, which was divided into two compartments by the centre-board, and were soon asleep on the plain but sufficient bedding with which Mr. Brewer had furnished the boat. The next morning there was no wind at all. The surface of the river was as smooth as glass, and was only rippled by the water-fowl, which rose from or settled down upon it, or by the schools of little fish, which occasionally sprang a short distance out of the water, and fell pattering back like a shower of gravel-stones. “It’s no use to set sail till the wind rises,” said Adam; “so we might as well try to make ourselves contented on shore for a while. About ten or eleven o’clock p’rhaps we’ll have a breeze.” “All right!” said Chap. “We can pole the boat out into deep water and fish.” “Yes,” said Adam, “you boys can do that, if you like; but I think I’ll take the gun and go into the woods, and see if I can’t find some game. I noticed this mornin’ a kind o’ path back there which looked to me like a bear track. I’ve seen bear tracks afore, and, though I ain’t certain about this one, I think I’ll foller it up a little way.” “Good!” cried Phil; “and I’ll go with you.” Adam hesitated. “I dunno about that,” he said. “If we was to meet a bear, you wouldn’t have any gun, and you might feel sort o’ helpless. I’d tell you to take the gun and go by yourself, but I guess I know more about the ways of these wild critters than you do.” “I don’t want to go alone,” said Phil, “and I’m not afraid to go without a gun. There are two barrels there, and you can use one for me and one for yourself.”