CHAPTER VIII
FINDING A FORTUNE IN A PEARL
Resisting a strong temptation to kick the blubbering negro, Mr. Murrensucceeded in getting the fellow's attention by shouting in his ear, andyanked him up on his feet. The boat was quite unusable, the bow havingbeen crumpled into matchwood by the force with which the sea-bat haddragged it upon the reef, so the question of reaching the shore was notan easy one. However, Pete knew the keys thoroughly and, in response tomuch questioning, admitted that it was possible with only a short swimhere and there, to reach a lighthouse about four miles away.
The negro would have preferred to stay on the reef until morning, for hecould sleep as easily on the sand as in a bed, but Mr. Murren knew thatthe two boys were not inured to hardship, Paul especially, and hecompelled the boatman to show the way. It was a toilsome but notparticularly dangerous journey, and when they reached the lighthouse,and had done full justice to a quickly-prepared meal, they were quitewilling, as Paul declared, to tackle another sea-bat. There was a smallmotor-boat owned by the lighthouse-keeper, and the party borrowed this,reaching the _Golden Falcon_ without further misadventure, thecapitalist recompensing the cowardly negro for the loss of his boat.
Owing to the thorough work that had been done at Bermuda, and having theassistance of his capitalist friend, Mr. Collier speedily secured thespecimens and the drawings he needed of the Florida reefs. He kept Colinhustling, but found time to enter into the question of the proposedsponge-farm with a great deal of interest, and went with a party toAnclote Key, where the Bureau of Fisheries had established a station forthe investigation of the sponge industry, with especial regard to thetransplanting of sponges. The government expert welcomed them heartily,and an arrangement was entered into whereby the Bureau accepted Mr.Murren's offer to use for its experiments a part of such sponge-groundas he should acquire, while he, at the same time, had the benefit of theadvice of the investigators.
"It seems to me," the capitalist said, when the details had beenconcluded, "that's about the best kind of investment I know, gettingexpert opinion for yourself in such a way that it benefits the wholenation."
"It is, I think," the Fisheries official replied; "but you can't alwaysget people to realize that. Why, even the State governments in manycases are not always ready to co-operate, and only last year theAssembly of a certain State refused to permit the establishment of ahatchery, because a relative of one of the assemblymen owned a summerhotel in the district, and he thought it might reduce the number of fishin a lake near the hotel."
"How absurd!"
"Of course, it's absurd, but it's amazing how often that sort of thinghappens. Still, even State governments are becoming more intelligentnow, and some, like Rhode Island, for instance, have been in the veryforefront of Fishery administration."
"Yet it means money in the pockets of the people to conserve fish!"
"But also it means a certain small outgo from the Assembly," was thereply; "there's the rub. But," he added, turning to Colin, for the boyhad told him of his plans, "by the time you're through college and onthe permanent rolls of the Bureau that sort of ignorance about the valueof Fisheries control will probably all have passed away."
"I hope so," the boy answered, "and I'm glad that I haven't seenanything except hearty support. Going to Brown University, of course, isa whole lot in my favor, because I understand they've always been strongon the Fisheries side."
"You're going to leave us to-night, then, Colin?" asked his host.
"Yes, Mr. Murren," the boy replied; "by taking the evening train, I canget to Providence in time for the opening of college, and Mr. Collier iskind enough to let me start right away. I can't be grateful enough toyou, sir, for all your kindness on this trip."
"That's all right," his friend said heartily, "I've enjoyed having you,and so has Paul, I know. I shall hear from you occasionally, I hope, andmaybe the _Golden Falcon_ will have you on board for some other trip."
"Thank you ever so much, sir," Colin answered; "but I guess I'm bookedfor college steadily until next summer, and the Bureau of Fisheriesduring vacation."
But Colin was mistaken in his idea that almost a year would elapsebefore he was busy again with Fisheries work, for shortly before the endof his first term, he received a letter from his father in which thesuggestion was made that the boy should spend a week on the Great Lakesduring the Christmas vacation, to get an idea of what winter work waslike. Colin smiled as he read the letter, for he knew well that he was'in for it,' since his father would make him go through every step ofthe training.
Accordingly, one cold day, he found himself aboard the steamer _Mary N.Lewis_, which had been chartered by the Bureau for a couple of weeks'trawling in Lake Michigan. A bitter wind was blowing and lumps of icefloated near the shores. The whitefish were not plentiful that winter,and when the nets came up and Colin had to pick fish out, b-r-r-r, butit was cold! A great many of the fish were not ripe for spawning and hadto be thrown back again, which delayed matters greatly and kept theparty on the water for several days.
Frequently Colin's lips were blue and his fingers numb, while his earsand cheekbones and chin felt as though they were being sliced offgradually by the blasts blowing down from icy Canada, but he knew that,to a certain extent, he was on trial, and he laughed and joked andmanaged to keep his spirits up, though his teeth chattered. There was nogreat amount of excitement in catching the whitefish and securing thespawn for development in the hatchery, but it was a test of endurance,and incidentally the boy learned much about the fishes of the GreatLakes.
"There's one thing I don't quite see, though," he said one day to thegovernment fish culturist, with whom he was working; "and that is, whywe need to do this."
"How do you mean, Dare?"
"Well, in the West, they hatch young salmon because the old salmon arecaught going up the river before they spawn, and they die, anyway; buthere they have all the room they want for spawning, and I should thinkNature would look after it."
"You don't want to forget," the fish culturist replied, "that Nature isvery exact. Everything has to balance. The whitefish born are ten timesas many as those that mature, but the number that matures is justprecisely enough to keep the supply going."
"I see that, all right," the boy answered.
"Well, then, if you disturb this balance by extensive fishing, isn't iteasy to see that you've got to make up for it somewhere? We don't haveto worry over keeping up the supply of catfish, for example, becauseNature is being left alone, and she has worked the problem out. But ifsuddenly a big catfish market developed--as it easily might, because, inspite of popular opinion, catfish is good eating--and if thousands ofthem were caught, it would be necessary to find some way to help Naturein keeping up the supply.
"Now, the whitefish," he continued, "isn't like the salmon, which spawnscarefully. The lake fish does that in a sort of hit-or-miss manner, withthe result that only a small percentage of the eggs get a fair start. Itis not difficult for us to put hundreds of millions of young fish intothe lakes every year, and the proportion of these that survive will notmerely keep the supply constant, but will even increase it."
"Then that will disturb the balance in another way?"
"Yes," was the reply, "but it will be at the expense of other specieswhich are of no use to man. Nature is like the proverbial Irishman, shecan't be drove, but she's mighty easy to lead. When you return to theuniversity, get hold of some books on the means by which all the variouskinds of living creatures in the world are kept on an even balance, howthey all get their food, and how every tiny speck fits into the wholeworld scheme. You'll find that sort of reading has more grip to it thanany novel--except, perhaps, those of a few of the really great writers,of whom there are some in every age."
WINTER ON THE GREAT LAKES, STRIPPING LAKE-TROUT.
_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries._]
WINTER WORK ON INLAND STREAMS, PLANTING TROUT FRY INICE-COVERED RIVERS.
_Courtesy of the U. S.
Bureau of Fisheries._]
"I found that out," answered Colin, "when I was working with Mr.Collier. He was always saying that things were 'so much worth while,'and when he started to explain them, they certainly were! It's just likethis, I've only seen a little bit of this inland water work, but youhandle other species beside whitefish in this work on the Great Lakes,don't you?"
"Yes," was the culturist's reply; "lake trout and pike perch amongothers. One station alone has handled seventy-one million trout eggs ina season. But the pike perch is a more difficult fish to propagateartificially, though nearly half a million eggs were distributed lastyear. We gave Canada six million pike perch fry. There's no wastedenergy in the Bureau of Fisheries, it's practical all the way through,and you're learning to see it from the right angle--doing the work andseeing the results."
It was this personal contact with the fish-culture work, this directdemonstration of the money value to the country of scientific knowledge,which became Colin's stimulus. His college-mates outdistanced him inmany studies, for the boy was not at heart of a scholarly type, but inhis scientific work he was far in advance of them all. Seeing hisinterest and his perseverance, several of the professors and instructorsin the scientific department took a liking to Colin, and the lad wassure to be found on every kind of field expedition for which he waseligible. He was quite an athlete, too, but he settled down to swimmingas his share in the athletic work of the university. Already quite athome in the water, he worked at improving his stroke with such energy,and was in the tank so much, that before the end of his freshman year,he was by long odds the best swimmer in the college. With his devotionto fish and his prowess in the water, it was a common saying that"Dare's growing fins!" and the college paper took to calling him "Fins,"a nickname which stuck to him ever after.
As he had intimated to his father long before, Colin was especiallyanxious to go to Woods Hole, the great marine station of the Bureau ofFisheries, situated on the southwestern corner of Cape Cod, and the mostfamous marine biological laboratory in the New World. The work of theFisheries appealed to him a great deal more when it bore a relation tothe sea, rather than to rivers and inland waters, and his applicationfor a position on the summer force at Woods Hole had been sent toheadquarters shortly after the New Year. Accordingly, just as soon asthe term was over, he hurried to Washington.
Disappointment awaited him. His heart had been set on that especialfeature of the work, but when he asked Dr. Crafts about it, the DeputyCommissioner shook his head.
"I have thought the matter over," he said, "and if you are equallyanxious next year to go to Woods Hole you shall go. But this season I'mgoing to send you to the Mississippi to do some work on mussels."
"Very well, sir," Colin answered, his expression betraying his regrets,but his will determining that he would make no seeming complaint. "Iwish I'd known this winter, and I would have given more attention to themollusks."
The Deputy Commissioner, who had friends in Brown University, had heardindirectly once or twice about Colin, and smiled to himself. He waspleased by the lad's self-control, and continued:
"The mussel question is of a great deal more interest than you think.I'm not sure, of course, but there are signs of a pearl-fever, and ifthere is one, you'll certainly see something doing. The Mississippi andOhio were like a Klondike in 1903!"
"What is a 'pearl-fever,' Dr. Crafts?" asked the boy.
"A silly infatuation that seems to strike the farmers of the rivervalleys every few years on hearing that a valuable pearl has been foundin a mussel. The get-rich-quick hope is very general, and it seems somuch easier to dredge mussels and open them until a fortune is found inone than it does to farm for a living. In 1903, thousands upon thousandsof farms were deserted or sold for next to nothing by people whobelieved that within a week they could be made millionaires by thepearls they would find in Mississippi River mussels."
"But I thought pearls came from oysters!" exclaimed Colin in surprise.
"So they do, but they come from mussels, as well, and clamsoccasionally. But you ought to remember," the Deputy Commissionercontinued, "that the finding of an occasional pearl in an oyster or amussel is of comparatively little importance, because it's an irregularsort of thing. The mother-of-pearl industry, however, is of bigimportance, it has an economic value to the country, and consequentlyit's our business to see that the natural resources are as wisely usedas possible. We'll start a party out there on June fifteenth, so you canreport here by that time."
"But, sir----"
"Well?"
"That's three weeks away!"
"Is that too long to wait? I'm afraid you'll have to learn patience,Colin; that's as important as any knowledge of fish culture."
"But I was wondering, Dr. Crafts," the boy urged, "if I had three weeksto spend, why I couldn't go down to Beaufort?"
"What for?"
"One of my instructors in biology is there," Colin said. "I believe theBureau gave him table-room in the laboratory there for some work onturtles, and he said I could help him if you were willing to have mego. I didn't say anything about it, because I wanted to go to Woods Holeright away, but if I have this time to spare, don't you think I ought touse it?"
"I think you ought to use it for a holiday," the Deputy Commissioneranswered.
"But I'd rather be doing something!" protested Colin.
"Perhaps," was the firm reply; "but not necessarily at Beaufort. Asidefrom the hatching of diamond-back terrapin, there's nothing going onthere in which you could be of any service. Besides, you'll get 'stale'unless you have a vacation. 'All work and no play,' you know."
Colin was eager to urge the Deputy Commissioner, but he could see itwould be useless.
"I'd read up on turtles, too!" he returned in a disappointed tone.
"H'm--by your instructor you mean Mr. Lark, do you not?"
"Yes, sir."
"Look here, Colin," said the Deputy Commissioner, "since you havepractically joined the Bureau by our promise to accept you if you makegood, don't forget that we are after results first. I've been a boymyself, and I think I can see what you're driving at. I suppose Larkhas been telling you some of his stories about riding diving turtles."
"Yes, Dr. Crafts," the boy replied; "he told me a lot about it."
"I thought so," was the reply. "I remember some magazine articles hedid. And I suppose you thought you wanted to take a ride?"
"I'm a good swimmer, sir," Colin answered a little proudly.
"You mean you can swim," the Deputy Commissioner responded a littlesharply, for being modest himself, he disliked any appearance ofboasting.
"Yes, sir," the boy said; "that was what I meant."
"Well, there's no turtle-riding at Beaufort. If you knew a little moreabout these subjects, you wouldn't make such breaks, whether you havebeen reading up on them or not. The leather turtle, the big one on whichmen dive by holding on to the shell, is an aquatic species and nevercomes into brackish water. The terrapin lives in the mud, and is only tobe found in marshy places. If you want to go turtle-riding for yourvacation, why, go ahead, no one's going to stop you, but you can hardlydo that while officially or even unofficially acting as an assistant atBeaufort. It's almost as far from Beaufort to the Florida Keys as it isfrom here to Hudson's Bay."
"I hadn't realized that, sir," Colin answered, surprised.
"Very few people do," was the reply. "Why, the State of Florida alone isas long as the distance from New York to Nova Scotia, or Washington toDetroit. You can't go after leather-turtle from Beaufort unless you'vegot--not seven-leagued boots, but seven-leagued fins."
"I'm sorry I bothered you about it, Dr. Crafts," the boy answered. "Ireally hadn't given the distances much thought."
"Wait a bit," said the Deputy Commissioner, as the boy turned to go. "Idon't want you to feel badly about your summer. What do you know aboutmussels?"
"Very little, sir," the boy answered; "hardly anything."
"Let me tell you a story about them," the Deputy Co
mmissioner said,smiling as the boy's face lighted up at the word "story." "Seven oreight centuries ago," his friend began--"that is, if you want to hearit?"
"Oh, yes, sir," came the reply.
"That's a long way back--a small trading-vessel was wrecked in the Bayof Biscay on the west coast of France, near the little village ofEsnandes. All hands were lost except one sailor, an Irishman, calledWalton."
"Sure to be an Irishman who got ashore," commented the boy.
"This was a particularly ingenious son of Erin," the other continued."Although he did not speak a word of French, with the likeableness thatseems to have been the chief note of the Irish character then, and whichthey have never lost, Walton speedily became popular in the littleFrench village. This was the more remarkable, as there was a greatscarcity of food in the village, the inhabitants depending entirely onfishing, and the fishing-grounds having become worked out. Hence thepresence of a stranger for whom to provide food became a seriousproblem.
"But the Irish had not been the teachers and scholars of Europe duringthe five preceding centuries for nothing, and though Walton was but asailor, he shared the quick-wittedness of his race. He had heardsomewhere that people often starved in the midst of plenty, and hestarted exploring for food on his own account. The village was builtnear a wide stretch of mud, which was covered by the sea at high tide,but dry when the water went down, and he noticed that numbers of land-and sea-birds were in the habit of skimming over the mud at low tide,apparently picking up worms.
"Birds could be eaten, he thought. Accordingly, patching together allthe old bits of net that could be found and mending the holes, theIrishman made a huge net two or three hundred yards long. Then he drovea number of stakes into the mud, working almost night and day, andstretched the net vertically about ten feet above the mud. The net wasmade something like a fish-trap, so that birds flying under would findit difficult to get out. On the very first night the net was spread, hecaught enough birds to feed the village for a week."
"Bully for him!" cried Colin.
"That was only the beginning," the Deputy Commissioner continued. "Theingenious stranger now began to consider what food it was that attractedthese birds, and to his surprise, instead of worms, found that theylived on an unknown black shellfish, now called mussels. If the birdsate mussels and the birds were good to eat, Walton reasoned that musselsmust be fit for food. He ate some in order to find out."
"That's the real scientific spirit," said Colin, laughing.
"He was Irish and willing to take a chance," was the smiling rejoinder."However that may be, he not only found that they were good to eat, butthat they were good eating. He had hard work to persuade the villagersto his point of view, although his success with the birds had made him asort of hero. Soon, however, mussels came to be in great demand. ThenWalton noticed that young mussels in great numbers were gathering on thesubmerged stakes of his net, and being prolific of ideas, he promptlyhad several hundred more stakes cut and driven into the mud. He found,then, that mussels thus suspended over the mud grew fatter and of betterflavor, and accordingly designed frames with interlacing branches whichcollected them by hundreds. This system, known as the 'buchot' system,has been practiced continuously at the village of Esnandes during allthe centuries since that time, and the income to the little village lastyear was over one hundred and twelve thousand dollars as a result ofthe ingenuity of the castaway Irishman."
"Then mussels are fit for food," Colin said in surprise. "I thought theywere only used for bait."
"Mussels, sea-mussels that is, are as good a food as clams,--some peopleclaim that they are better,--and they have just about three times asmuch food value as the oyster. That's why I told you the story. Weexpect to make the mussel industry as important as the clam fishery,giving employment to thousands of people and establishing what ispractically a new food supply in the United States, although it iscommon throughout the shore countries of Europe."
"But the pearl mussels," queried Colin, "can you eat those, too?"
"It is doubtful," was the reply, "but their value lies so largely intheir use for mother-of-pearl in the button industry, that their foodvalue would be of only secondary importance, unless they could bepickled or canned, as is done sometimes with the sea-mussels. But,Colin," he added, "if you think that the mussel doesn't sound aninteresting subject, let me tell you that I think it is, in itself, oneof the most interesting creatures in the water. Its life history isastounding, and there are scores of problems yet to be worked out. Readthis," he added, handing the lad a Bulletin of the Bureau; "it has onlyjust come out, and if I have judged you rightly, you'll come here onJune fifteenth so eager to get to a mussel-bed that there will be noholding you!"
CLAMMING ON THE MISSISSIPPI.
_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries._]
BARGE-LOADS OF MUSSELS FOR THE MOTHER-OF-PEARL INDUSTRY.
_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries._]
Two hours later, the Deputy Commissioner, leaving the office for theday, started on his walk home, going through the park in the directionof the Smithsonian Museum. On his way he was surprised to see Colinsitting on a bench near the Fisheries Building, absolutely engrossed ina gray, paper-covered folio. Dr. Crafts recognized it as the Bulletin hehad given the lad early in the afternoon, and he laughed aloud at theboyish impatience which had made it impossible for Colin even to waituntil he got the book home. The Deputy Commissioner had to speak twicebefore he was heard.
"Well, Colin," he said, "are you learning it off by heart?"
The boy jumped up as soon as he saw his friend, fairly stuttering withall the questions he wanted to ask.
"I've got to go home," the Deputy Commissioner said, when Colin stoppedto take breath; "and you've put queries enough to keep a staff of menanswering for a week! Didn't I tell you that there's a world of work tobe done over the mussel? But if you like to walk along, why, I'll tellyou anything I can."
"Thanks, ever so much," the boy said; "but what puzzles me in thisBulletin is the mussel's marsupium, or pouch. Has a fresh-water musselreally got a pouch like a kangaroo?"
The Deputy Commissioner pushed his hat back over his forehead.
"Colin," he said, "you have a knack of putting questions in the mostawkward fashion. I suppose, in a way, the answer is 'not quite,' becausein the kangaroo, the baby is almost completely formed when it is placedin the pouch, while in the mussel, only the egg goes there. The word'marsupium' was what threw you off. What really happens is that the eggpasses into this pouch or pocket in the gills, and is there fertilizedas the current of water flows in and out over the gills."
"And it stays there until it has a shell of its own, doesn't it?" askedthe boy.
"It does," was the reply.
"Well," said the eager questioner, "if it has a shell and is able tolook out for itself, why doesn't it? Yet the book says that it alwaysattacks a fish and lives as a parasite for a while."
"It doesn't attack a fish, Colin," the other answered; "it only fastenson to one. Besides which, although the mussel has a shell, it isn't ableto look out for itself. There is a change of form while it is fastenedto the fish."
"But doesn't it hurt the fish?"
"Not permanently. It causes a local sore or a cyst, like the tiniestkind of a blister, in the middle of which the larva of the mussel issafely curled up and stays there until fully developed. Then the cystbreaks, the mussel drops out, and the tiny wound heals rapidly. Even asmall fish, four inches in length, can carry five hundred of theselittle creatures on its fins and in its gills without serious injury."
"Suppose it can't find a fish?"
"That's the end of the mussel, then! There is one kind of mussel thatdevelops without going through the parasite stage, but it is not ascommon as the others. Curiously enough, the only way to raise the musselartificially is by means of parasitism on the fish. As you read there,it is a simple matter to get these tiny creatures from the 'pouch' ofthe mother mussel, put them in an aquarium with some fish
, and keep thewater stirred up. In a few minutes the larvae will have fastenedthemselves on. It is wise to keep these fish in a hatchery for a monthor so and then simply release them; when the mussels are ready they willdrop off, and a new crop of mussels is on the way. By this means you canstart them without much trouble in rivers and streams where there werenone before, so that you see what chances there are for the developmentof the industry."
"Are all mussels equally good for making mother-of-pearl?"
"No," was the reply. "There are two chief commercial varieties, ofdifferent species, one larva having a hook on the shell, so that it canattach to fins or tail, the other being smaller and without hooks andmaking its way into the gills. But you'll go into all that when you getto Fairport, and even after you have worked at mussels all summer therewill be a lot of problems you won't have touched. Don't forget now, thefifteenth."
"Never fear, Dr. Crafts," Colin answered; "I won't forget. I wish itwere here now."
Time did not hang heavily on the boy's hands, for he was interested inall phases of fishing, and spent a couple of weeks on a trout stream inNorthern Maine, not only catching the fish, but--as he had beenadvised--making notes of any peculiarities he saw in those he caught.Many stories had been told him of the finding of new species by younginvestigators, and he was amazed to see what wide differences existed infish of the same species.
Colin examined so carefully every one he caught, that he began to thinkthat if the fish were thrown back into the stream and hooked out again,he could recognize each one of them. His eagerness to be at work reachedboiling point when a newspaper arrived at the camp with a brief itemtelling of the excitement caused by the finding of pearls near Fairport.Fortunately, it was only a day or two before the date set for hisdeparture, and Colin was on the point of starting for Washington, whenhe received a letter ordering him to his post on the Mississippiimmediately. He took the next train, and reported two days later at thehatchery.
"Are you coming for any special line of work?" the superintendent askedhim. "I was informed from Washington that you were coming, but nothingwas said as to the nature of your duties."
"Nothing more than that Dr. Crafts said I should probably be working onmussels, sir," the boy answered. "I was just told to report."
"The Deputy Commissioner states," the superintendent continued, lookingover the letter, "that you expect to join the Bureau permanently, andthat you have been doing some work at college on fishes."
"I haven't done very much, as yet, sir."
"I suppose not. But I want to find out what you know about mussels."
This put the boy on his mettle.
Colin told briefly, but quite clearly, what he remembered of thelife-history of the fresh-water mussel as described in the Bulletin thathad been given him, and added the information he had secured from theDeputy Commissioner. The superintendent of the station put a few leadingquestions to him, and nodded his head with satisfaction.
"So far as theory goes," he said, "I think you have a fairly good ideaof it, although here and there you made some statements showing the needof a good deal of practical work with mussels. But, since you seem tohave a general idea of the anatomy and physiology, I think I will putyou in as Dr. Edelstein's assistant."
"What is he doing, sir?" queried Colin.
"He is working on pearl formations," was the answer. "You have heard, Isuppose, that there has been some excitement over pearl finds?"
"Yes, I heard that away up in Maine," the boy replied.
"It's exaggerated a good deal," the superintendent said; "but as amatter of fact, there have been a few good finds. Dr. Edelstein isstudying the differences between oyster and mussel pearls. Of course,when one of these 'rushes' comes, a very large number of inferior pearlsare found, which are of no commercial value but which afford goodmaterial to work on. Just now," he added, "I think it is the mostinteresting part of the work. Come along, and I'll introduce you to Dr.Edelstein."
Colin's new chief was an entirely different type from any of thescientists whom he had met in the Bureau. In the first place, he was agem expert by profession, and consequently, more of a mineralogist thanbiologist. Tall, powerfully built, black-bearded, and abrupt, he gave animpression of volcanic force, and at the same time of great keenness. Ascientist of remarkable discernment, he possessed with all his broadviews a marvelous capacity for detail, and Colin soon learned that thesomewhat slipshod methods of a college laboratory would not be acceptedby Dr. Edelstein.
"It iss of no use to think that a result iss right!" he said, when Colinbetrayed a hint of impatience at performing the same experiment over andover again, scores of times. "It iss to know for certainly, that wework."
"I really believe, Dr. Edelstein," Colin said, "that you would like tosee this fail once or twice."
"Of gourse! Then we find out why it iss a failure. That iss a good wayto learn."
But in spite of the strictness of the discipline under which he was keptby his chief, Colin enjoyed the work. His duties were manifold. Somedays he would spend entirely in the laboratory preparing microscopeslides or observing mussel parasites through the microscopes, and makingcopious notes. His power as a colorist stood him in good stead again,and more than once he received a rare word of praise, feeling quiteelated when, one day, late in the summer, Dr. Edelstein said to him:
"I have much gonfidence in your golor sense, Golin."
At the same station, one of the younger men was finishing a monograph onthe spoonbill-cat, a sturgeon of the lower Mississippi, often six feetin length and a hundred pounds in weight, just coming into commercialimportance as the source of caviare. The 'paddle-fish,' as the creatureis often called by the negroes, because of its long paddle-shaped jaw,or 'nose,' formed an interesting study to Colin, for he knew enoughabout the make-up of fishes to realize that this was a very ancientform, midway between the sharks and the true bony fishes. Thepaddle-fish is closely allied to the sturgeon, and its roe has recentlybeen found to be almost as good for caviare as the Russian variety.Thus, within ten years, a new fishing industry has developed on theMississippi River.
In addition to his laboratory work and to his share in theinvestigations of his friend who was studying the paddle-fish, Colinfrequently took short trips up or down the river for Dr. Edelstein, thelatter being anxious to procure measurements and other data on everypearl found. It was on one of these trips that Colin had the opportunityof seeing the panicky side of a 'pearl fever,' of which he had heard somuch. The report had come to the station that a pearl of fair size,valued at about five hundred dollars, had been found, four miles belowthe station, and Colin was told to go down and make a report on it assoon as he had finished his afternoon's work. Accordingly, after supper,he took a small power-boat and ran downstream, taking with him a verysensitive pair of scales to determine the exact weight of the pearl,calipers to ascertain its size, and other instruments especiallydesigned by Dr. Edelstein. At the same time, he was ordered to securethe shell from which the pearl had been taken, should it be obtainable.
The pearl was measured carefully and found to be a fine one, not largeand not unusual in any way, though a certain irregularity in theposition of its formation on the shell gave it a scientific interest.The lucky finder was entirely willing to yield up the shell of themussel from which the pearl had been taken, and was glad to be informedas to its weight and purity. It was pleasant to Colin to see--as he sooften did--the success of the pearl-hunters. But while the boy wasexamining the stone, a loud knock at the door, was heard, and a neighborcame in, breathless and excited.
LANDING THE PADDLEFISH.
New industry developed in the lower Mississippi, catching sturgeon-likefish for its roe.
_By permission of Dr. Louis Hussakoff._]
"I've got one," he cried. "I've got a big one!"
Every one present crowded round with cries of congratulation.
Slowly the newcomer opened his hand and revealed a large pearl almosttwice the size of the gem Colin had been ex
amining, and, therefore, ifof equal purity, worth eight times as much. The finder handed it around,and in course of time it reached the boy, who scrutinized it carefully.
"Isn't it a beauty?" the newcomer cried. "And just on the very last day!I haven't a penny left in the world, and I sold my old farm to come uphere. It's been getting harder and harder for me every day, and we haddecided to give it all up. I hadn't a bit of hope left, and now----!"
The cottager whose pearl Colin had come down to inspect, slapped thefarmer on the back, and without a trace of enviousness--for he himselfhad been lucky--joined in his delight. The farmer's wife had followedhim more sedately, and she came in to share the general enthusiasm.
But Colin sat silent.
Over and over again, with a childish persistence, the farmer told how hehad sold his farm, how he had come up with every penny he owned, how,little by little, it had all oozed away, and how in disgust he haddecided to sell his boat, which would give him just enough money to getback to Missouri.
"But now, Mary," he said, "we can go back and get a better farm than weever had, and we'll have a house in the village so that the children cango to a good school, and you'll have lots o' friends, and pretty thingsabout you. It's been hard, neighbors, I tell you," he said, lookinground; "but the luck has turned at last."
Colin said not a word, but kept his eyes fixed on the table. His host,the mussel-gatherer, whose stone he had been examining, noticed this,but the newcomer was boisterous in his joy. He babbled of the wealththat was his, until if the stone had been a diamond of equal size, itwould not have sufficed to have financed his dreams.
But the boy with the instruments on the table before him, said not aword of congratulation or delight. He had only seen the pearl for amoment, but he knew.
With hearty and jovial hospitality, the farmer invited every one in theroom to come and stay with him as soon as he was settled down. He wouldshow them, he said, what real life was like on a farm.
Suddenly he stopped.
"Mister!" he said, in an altered voice.
Colin, sitting alone, still beside his testing instruments, did not lookup.
"Mister!" he said again.
In spite of himself the boy raised his eyes. Do what he might, he couldnot keep the sorrow out of them, and those of the finder of the pearlmet his fairly.
The room was full of people but it grew still as death.
The woman clasped her husband's arm and gave a low moan. He touched hershoulder gently.
"Mister," he said again, with a humbleness that seemed strangely gentleafter all his bluster and brag, "will you look at this and tell me whatyou think it's worth?"
"I'm not an expert," the boy said hastily. "I couldn't judge its value.You ought to take it to some one that knows all about these things."
"I can see what you think," the farmer said with a pitiful, sad smile;"you think it isn't worth much. Is it worth anything at all?"
Colin took the discolored pearl and looked at it closely. He put it onthe scales and weighed it carefully, measured it, and scrutinized it asclosely as he could in the lamplight, but he knew himself that thesewere devices to gain time. The pearl showed all too clearly a flaw thatwould make it valueless. Every one waited for his verdict. He wasconscious that his voice was a little shaky, but he answered as steadilyas he could:
"I'm afraid, sir----"
"Well?"
"I don't believe, sir----"
"That it's worth anything at all?" the farmer interrupted.
A solemn dignity, the accompaniment of great trouble, came to the man'said and gave him strength. "Thank you," he said; "I understand."
He looked around with a troubled glance and saw the far smaller but morevaluable pearl that his neighbor had found, which was still lying on thetable beside the instruments. A strong shiver shook him, but he made noother sign. He turned to Colin.
"I see that it's no good," he said, "but I shall keep it just the same.If you have finished with it----"
Colin stood up and placed the pearl in his hand.
"Please take it to some one else right away," he said. "I couldn'tsleep--suppose I were wrong!"
The old farmer looked at him gravely.
"No man would do as you have done and say what you have said, unless itwas so clear that he couldn't help but know," he replied. He turned tothe neighbors. "I'm afraid," he said, "I have in part spoiled yourpleasure, and," he added, with a twitch of the muscles of his face,"made a fool of myself, besides. Come, Mary, we'll go home."
The others pressed forward with words of sympathy, but the stricken manpaid no heed and passed out of the door. Colin sat heavily back in hischair staring moodily at the instruments, his heart sore within him, buthe knew he could have done nothing else. Yet the thought of the oldfarmer's sorrow was powerfully before him, and he had to keep a stronggrip on himself to keep from showing an unmanly emotion.
Outside the little cottage could be heard a murmur of voices, as the oldfarmer tried to comfort his wife, while inside the house no one spokelest he should seem careless of the grief and disappointment of thosewho were still within hearing. Suddenly a third voice was heard outside,speaking excitedly. Once again that tense clutch of suppressed emotionpermeated the room and Colin, with his heart in his mouth, looked up. Noone moved. Outside the voices ceased.
Then, through the open door, rushed a boy about twelve years old, muddyfrom head to foot, but with his two eyes shining like lights from hisgrimy face. The mussel-gatherer recognized instantly the farmer's son.
"What is it, John?" he asked.
"I was goin' over some shells father hadn' opened, after he'd found thatother pearl, an' I got this! Father he says the other one's no good an'that this isn' likely to be any better! But I don' know! It looks allright!"
He glanced down at the object in his hand.
"Father said it was no good," he repeated, a little less certainly; "butI don' know."
He held out his hand and passed the pearl to the mussel-gatherer, whoglanced at it hastily.
"Mr. Dare!" he said excitedly.
Colin looked up and caught his glance, then tried to take the stone. Buthis hand shook as though he were in a violent fever, and themussel-gatherer placed it on the table beside his own, in front of theboy. Clear, flawless, and of fair size, it gleamed like a star of hopebefore them all. A moment's examination was enough. Leaping from hisseat Colin seized the pearl and rushed out of the door.
"It's real, sir; it's real!" he cried. "And will do all you said!"
The old farmer never looked at him. He turned his face toward the starsand reverently removed his hat.
Boy With the U. S. Fisheries Page 9