"Run away in to Aunt Kirsty and tell her we are home, Lad," he cried, as he drove past to the barn. The boy put the pin in the old gate and went frolicking along the lane, the dog circling about him. The lane ran straight past the house down to the water, hedged by an old rail fence and fringed with raspberry and alder bushes. From it a little gate led into Aunt Kirsty's garden, which surrounded the house. The boy paused with his hand on the latch of the gate, looking down at the water. And then he gave a loud, ecstatic "Oh!" that made Collie bark, and stood perfectly still. He could see Lake Algonquin spread out before him, stretching away to the north in lovely curves like a great river. Its gleaming floor was dotted with green, feathery islands. To the west, in a silver haze, lay the town; to the east, a low, wooded shore where the spire of the little Indian church pointed up like a shining finger out of the green. Great masses of clouds were piled high in the west, where the sunset was turning all the world into glory. But it was not the beauty of the scene that was holding the little boy spellbound. Down there, straight ahead of him, was a most marvellous thing, the fulfilment of his dreams. Across the radiant water, stretching from some fairy island in the heavens, far over to the opposite shore, hung a rainbow! And more wonderful still, right down there at its foot, just beyond Wanda Island, gleaming and beckoning, hung the pot of gold! The Lad's heart gave a great leap. There it was, just as Peter Fiddle had described it! Why should he not go after it, right now, and bring it home to his father? He went tearing down the hill, Collie leaping at his side. Peter Fiddle had said that the reason more folks did not get the rainbow gold and be rich and happy ever after, was because they did not go after it right at once. For the pot of gold did not hang there very long, and might slip into the water with a big splash any minute, and be gone forever. So the Lad ran in frantic haste, and the dog bounded ahead and nearly rushed into the water, in his mistaken idea that he was to catch the gulls that came swooping so near and were off and away before he could snap. The old green boat belonging to his father was lying on its side half in the water; the Lad tugged at it madly without moving it an inch. He glanced about him and spied with delight Peter Fiddle's canoe lying upside down under the birches. Peter worked for his father, when not away fishing or playing the fiddle or spinning yarns; and when he went away by land his canoe was always at home, and sometimes the Lad had paddled out in it alone. He pulled and tugged at it manfully, and after great exertions that left him panting, he managed to launch it. Collie, just returned from a mad charge after the gulls, leaped in beside him. The boy seized the paddle and pushed off hurriedly. He seated himself on the thwart and looked out to get his direction.