Oscar capered about, wild with delight, when his master was carried off to the house, and Uncle Lem could not say enough about his cleverness.
Wilby felt very grateful to Oscar and to his uncle also, and thankful that he had not lost his life. Yet he could not help a twinge of regret at the thought of never seeing his white bear friends again, seeing how kindly they had treated him in spite of their character for cruelty.
However, it was no small consolation to have such a rattling good story to tell, and tell it he did very graphically many a time, much to the enjoyment of his hearers.
Whether they all believed it or not is a question that, if you do not mind, I will leave it to you to settle.
Mort Henshaw was a boy who had implicit faith in himself. He cherished the firm conviction that whatever any other boy could do came within the range of his capabilities. He had only to find out the way it should be done in order to accomplish it.
This was a pretty large view to take of things in general, yet it must be confessed that Mort was not without a fair degree of justification for having what the Scotch would call so good a conceit of himself.
Blessed with a strong, symmetrical frame, a quick eye, a sure hand, a perfect constitution, and abundant courage, he came easily by a mastery of the different sports he entered into, and had few equals, and fewer superiors, at cricket, football, lacrosse, baseball, swimming, rowing, and the other amusements of the day.
There was one pastime, however, of which, although he had heard much, he knew nothing, and that was sailing. The pretty little stream which ran by his home afforded no facilities for this glorious sport, and the pleasures of it he knew about only from the descriptions of his more fortunate companions.
Great, then, was his delight when the spring that found him fifteen years of age brought with it an invitation from one of his uncles to spend the whole summer with him at his cottage on Lake Deschenes, a splendid sheet of water not far from the city of Ottawa.
The invitation mentioned, as one of the attractions of the place, that he would be able to have all the sailing that his heart could wish.
"Hurrah! hurrah!" shouted Mort, capering about the room with a face beaming like the sun. "All the sailing I want! Just think of it! Won’t that be grand? The very thing I’ve been looking for."