It seemed to him that he had hardly closed his eyes, when a strong hand was laid on his shoulder, and a voice said, in his ear,

“Wake up here; it’s three o’clock.”

He did not need a second call, but was out on the floor in an instant.

It was still storming.  The wind moaned and whistled through the branches of the trees around the cottage, and sent the big drops of rain rattling against the window.  It was a wild time to go hunting, and some boys would have preferred tumbling back into bed again.  But Frank and his cousin had made up their minds that if any one got a shot at the geese, they were to be the ones.

As soon as they were dressed, Frank led the way into the kitchen, and, while he was lighting a fire, Archie brought out of the pantry a pan of milk, two spoons and bowls, and a loaf of bread.  He was so impatient to “get a crack at the geese,” as he said, that, although he was very fond of bread and milk, he could scarcely eat at all.

“I’m afraid some one will get the start of us,” he exclaimed, noticing that his cousin, instead of being in a hurry, was taking matters very coolly.

“What if they do?” answered Frank, deliberately refilling his bowl from the pan.  “We shall stand just as good a chance as they do.  It will not be daylight these two hours.  It’s as dark as pitch, and all we can do is to go up to the swamp, and get under a tree, and wait until it is light enough to see where our geese are.”

As soon as they had finished their breakfast, they brought out their guns, and began to prepare for the hunt.  Extra charges were put in each barrel; and, while they were drawing on their rubber coats, Archie said,

“We had better leave my dogs at home, hadn’t we?  Lightfoot would make too much noise, and Sport, although he would keep still enough, would be of no use to us, for he will not go into the water after a wounded bird.”

“Yes,” said Frank, “we had better leave them behind.  But we must have Brave with us.  I’ll go and call him.”

And he opened the door, and, walking out upon the piazza, which ran entirely around the cottage, gave a low whistle.  There was a slight rustling among the straw in the kennel where the dogs slept, and Brave came out, and followed his master into the house.

After wrapping up their guns in their coats, they were ready to set out.

Half an hour’s walk, through mud up to their ankles, brought them to Uncle Mike’s house, which stood at the end of the road, and, climbing over the fence that inclosed his pasture, they struck off through the woods toward the lake.

After picking their way for half a mile over fallen logs, and through wet, tangled bushes, Frank, who was leading the way, suddenly stopped, and, leaning back against a tree to get out of the rain, said,

“Here we are.  Had we better try to cross the creek now, or shall we wait until daylight?”