My eyes opened on a lovely scene at daylight Uncle Eb had laid me on a mossy knoll in a bit of timber and through an opening right in front of us I could see a broad level of shining water, and the great green mountain on the further shore seemed to be up to its belly in the sea.
'Hello there!' said Uncle Eb; 'here we are at Lake Champlain.' I could hear the fire crackling and smell the odour of steeping tea.
'Ye flopped 'round like a fish in thet basket,' said Uncle Eb.

''Guess ye must a been drearnin' O' bears.

Jumped so ye scairt me.

Didn't know but I had a wil' cat on my shoulders.' Uncle Eb had taken a fish-line out of his pocket and was tying it to a rude pole that he had cut and trinmed with his jack-knife.
'I've found some crawfish here,' he said, 'an' I'm goin' t' try fer a bite on the p'int O' rocks there.' 'Goin' t' git some fish, Uncle Eb ?' I enquired.
'Wouldn't say't I was, er wouldn't say't I wasn't,' he answered.

'Jes goin' t' try.' Uncle Eb was always careful not to commit himself on a doubtful point.
He had fixed his hook and sinker in a moment and then we went out on a rocky point nearby and threw off into the deep water.