Here a lovely picture awaited them. From their feet the red banks of clay and sand stretched hundreds of yards away (for the tide was out), until they were lapped by the river, now shrunk into a narrow, sluggish stream. To right and left and beyond the river the wide, level marsh lands, redeemed from the water by the patient toil of the Acadians, were waist-deep in verdure that swayed in long lines of light and shadow before the summer breeze. Not far off began the great dikes that sweep clear round the outer edge of the Grand Pre, the only elevation on all that vast plain, and now waving to their summits with "dusty-blossomed grass." Behind them the hills rose gently in fold upon fold, their broad shoulders flecked with frequent patches of golden grain or the dark foliage of the orchards; while over all rose a glorious summer sun that seemed to thrill the whole landscape with life and warmth and glory. But the boys had no eyes for all this beauty. They were far more concerned about the tide, and felt inclined to resent very warmly the fact that it should be out just when they wanted to have a swim. "What a fraud!" exclaimed Frank. "’Pon my word, I believe the old tide is twice as much out as it is in; now isn’t it, Buntie?" "It is, sure’s you’re born," assented Tom. "There’s nothing for it, I suppose, but to wait;" and so saying, he threw himself down in the long grass, his friend immediately following his example. Twenty yards away Emory Haynes was already seated with his face turned riverward, apparently lost in deep thought. "Wonder what Yankee’s thinking about?" remarked Tom. "Puzzling out some of those confounded problems he does so easily, perhaps," he added feelingly, for he had had some humiliating experiences of his own inability to get over the _Pons Asinorum_ safely, or to explain why _a_ was equal to _x_ under certain perplexing circumstances. "More probably planning what he’ll do with that five pounds," said Frank, half petulantly. "I guess it’s more likely to go into books than into a boat if he gets hold of it." "But he isn’t going to get hold of it," objected Tom; and then, without giving Frank a chance to reply, he burst out, "Oh, I say, Frank, suppose instead of waiting here we go down to meet the bore and have a race back with it." [Illustration: "THEY SAW THEIR COMPANION EMBEDDED NEARLY TO THE WAIST IN A QUICKSAND."]