CHAPTER XVII. A RAINY NIGHT
The summer days went by pleasantly now, with naught to interrupt theenjoyment of the yachtsmen. The three yachts, the _Viking_, the_Surprise_, and the _Spray_, went on a friendly cruise around GrandIsland, putting in at little harbours overnight, and the crews waking thestillness of many a small hamlet with their songs and skylarking attwilight. They had races from port to port, the largest boat giving theother two time-allowance. They fished and swam and grew strong.
Toward the middle of August, the crew gave up lobster catching and storedthe lath-pots away for another year. The _Surprise_ took to going onvoyages down the bay, fishing on its own account. In fact, Harvey's fourcharges had developed a surprising and most commendable ability to lookout for themselves, without assistance from him and Henry Burns.
The _Viking_, too, went on a ten days' fishing voyage to the outerislands, cleaned up a good catch of cod and hake, and came back, with allthe gear neatly packed away, ready to store for the winter.
There had been only one thing lacking for the season's complete financialsuccess. The mackerel had not appeared around the coast. It was gettingnear the first of September, and the local fishermen had lost hope oftheir coming.
"Guess it's going to be an off year," remarked Captain Sam. "They'reuncertain fish. One year you can almost bail 'em out with a pail, andanother year they just keep away. They're getting a few down around CapeCod, I hear, but I reckon the seiners have cleaned 'em out so there won'tbe any 'round these parts."
Nevertheless, the young fishermen were alive to the possibility of theircoming. They scanned the water eagerly for signs of a school wheneverthey were cruising, and, at early morning, watched the harbour entrancesin the hope they might see the fish breaking.
"If we could only get the first run of them," said Little Tim, "we'd justmake a fortune. The big hotels down the bay haven't had any this season,except those they've sent to Boston and Portland for. They'd take thewhole boat-load."
Little Tim was, in fact, the greatest optimist to be found around GrandIsland. Perhaps it was because he knew less about signs and indicationsof fish, and trusted only to his own hopes. The old salts shook theirheads and agreed it was surely an off year. But, wherever the _Surprise_cruised, if there was not a sea on, and the yacht was sailing slowlyenough to admit of it, Little Tim had a line overboard, trolling farastern. The jig was baited with a white strip of fish, to catch the eyeof any hungry mackerel that might have ventured into the bay, despite thepredictions of the islanders.
Then, early one afternoon, Little Tim's faith was rewarded. They weresailing lazily along, with a light west wind, in the lee of the smallislands back of Hawk Island, some six or seven miles below Southport.Little Tim, seated on the after-rail, had his usual line astern, and thecrew had had their usual jokes at his expense--especially when, now andthen, a tug at the line, which had set Tim's heart jumping, had proved tobe only a floating bunch of seaweed, greatly to the chagrin of Tim, andto the amusement of the others.
There came a smart tug at the line, and Little Tim was up like a rabbitout of its hole. He seized the line and began hauling in rapidly.
"Tim's got some more seaweed," said Allan Harding. "Too bad there isn'tmoney in that. He's pulled enough up alongside the boat to make us allrich."
"No, it isn't!" cried Tim, excitedly. "Look, there's a fish comingin--hooray! It's a mackerel, too. See him shine."
Little Tim yanked the fish out of water, with a jerk that sent fish andmackerel-jig higher than his head. But there was no mistake about it.There was a mackerel, flopping and jumping in the bottom of the boat,glistening and gleaming, with its mingled shades of green and black andwhite.
"Isn't he a beauty?" exclaimed Tim, dancing about in wild excitement. "Itisn't a No. 1 size--only a 'tinker;' but it's a mackerel sure enough, andthey don't come alone, these fellows. There are more. Get out the lines."
But his companions, no longer scoffing, were as excited as he. Joe Hinmanhad the boat up into the wind, in a twinkling. The other two boys had thesail down on the run, and furled, with a couple of stops about it, andthey were drifting slowly, the next moment, with lines out on every hand.
However, Little Tim proved to be more of a discoverer than prophet. Thefish, if there were more of them about, were not running in largenumbers. They caught a few more scattering ones, but they could see noschool in sight. They stuck to it, however, till the middle of theafternoon.
"They're coming in, though," said Joe Hinman; "and we are the only onesthat know it. We haven't the bait for much fishing, anyway; so let's runup to harbour while the wind lasts, tell Jack and Henry Burns, and we'llall come down here again early in the morning, before the other boats getout."
Little Tim, winding up his line reluctantly, drew one more fish in beforethey set sail, well-nigh going overboard in his excitement.
They reached Southport Harbour about five o'clock, and ran closealongside the _Viking_, which lay at its mooring.
"We've got something good for supper, Henry," said Little Tim to HenryBurns, who was busily engaged cleaning up the decks of the yacht, with abroom which he dipped overboard now and then.
"Better send up and invite young Joe down," said Henry Burns, payinglittle attention to the new arrivals. "Jack and I are going into thetent, to eat supper with Tom and Bob."
"All right," said young Tim. "It may be your only chance, though, to eatone of these this summer." Henry Burns glanced up from his work at thestring of six mackerel which Tim proudly displayed. Then he flung downhis broom and ran to the companionway.
"Jack, come out here," he cried. "They've got some mackerel. They've comeat last."
Harvey emerged hurriedly from the cabin, and gave a whoop of exultationwhen he saw the fish.
"We want to go down first thing in the morning," said Joe Hinman, "beforeany of the other boats get out. There'll be money in the first catch, ifwe have any luck."
"We won't wait till morning," said Henry Burns, decidedly. "We'll startto-night, and be on the grounds first thing. I'll get Tom and Bob out.You fellows get your lines ready and we'll go and catch some bait rightoff."
Henry Burns, while not of excitable temperament, had a way of doingthings sharply and promptly when occasion demanded. He went below andpresently gave a signal of three short toots on the fish-horn, in thedirection of the camp. Bob was alongside next moment, in the canoe.
"What's up?" he asked.
"Get ready for a trip down the bay," replied Henry Burns. "We're offto-night, just as soon as we get the bait. The mackerel are in. Tim'sfound them at last."
Tim showed the crew's catch.
"Fine!" exclaimed Bob. "I'll tell you what," he added, "I've got supperunder way. Let me take those fish, and I'll cook them, too, and getsupper ready for all of us, while the rest of you catch the bait. Tomwill come out and help you."
Tim tossed the fish into the canoe, and Bob hastened ashore.
They were all out in the cove shortly, with lines down close to the muddybottom, for flounders and sculpins. The tide, at half-flood, served themfortunately, and soon the fish began to come aboard. Then, when they hadtheir catch, they rowed around to the wharf, dropping Henry Burns ashorenear the Warren cottage.
The _Spray_ was gone from harbour; but Henry Burns left word for theWarren boys to follow, in the morning, impressing the importance ofsecrecy on Mrs. Warren, with a solemnity as great as if they were goingafter hidden gold.
At the wharf, near the beach, a huge sort of coffee-mill was set up,which the mackerel fishermen used for grinding bait--but which had had noservice thus far this year. Chopping the fish into pieces, they threwthese into the mill, whence they dropped into a big wooden bucket, groundinto a mess that might, as Little Tim remarked, look appetizing to amackerel, but didn't to him.
"There, we've got 'chum' enough," said Harvey, when the bucket wastwo-thirds filled. "We'll need the rest of the fish to bait the hooks.Come on, befor
e any of the fishermen see what we are doing."
They rowed around quickly to the camp, whence the odours of supperemerged, appetizingly. Bob had been as good as his word, and everythingwas ready. They sat about the opening of the tent, and did full justiceto Bob's cooking.
"Lucky it's going to be a good night," said Henry Burns, glancing off atthe sea and sky. "Looks like a little breeze, doesn't it, Jack?"
"I hope so," replied Harvey. "We'll start, anyway. It's clear, and itwon't be like drifting about down off Loon Island, if we get becalmed."
"Can't stop to clean up dishes to-night," said Bob, as he piled the stuffinto the tent, as soon as they were finished. "We usually leave thingsmore shipshape, don't we, Tom?"
They tied the flap of the tent carefully, saw that the tent-pegs werefirm, and the guy-ropes all right, and departed. By half-past seveno'clock they were out aboard, and the two yachts were under way.
"Too bad the _Spray_ isn't coming along," said Henry Burns; "but I'veleft word for them to follow in the morning."
There was a light westerly breeze blowing, which was favourable for astraight run to the islands, with sheets started a little, and everythingdrawing. They set the forestaysail and both jibs and the club-topsail onthe _Viking_; and, there being no sea, with the wind offshore, they madefast time.
The _Surprise_, with everything spread, followed in the wake of thelarger yacht.
"We'll tell the mackerel you are coming," called Henry Burns to the crew.
"They know it already. We told them we were coming back. We saw 'emfirst," responded Tim.
They were among the islands by ten o'clock, though the wind had fallen.They anchored in the lee of one, and prepared to turn in.
"We ought to be out early," said Harvey; "but how are we going to wakeup? I'm sure to sleep till long after sunrise, unless somebody wakes me.We ought to have some alarm to set, to wake us."
"Don't need it," replied Henry Burns. "I'll set myself. I don't know howI do it, but if I go to bed thinking I want to wake up at a certain hour,I almost always do wake at about that time. How will four o'clock do?"
"Early enough," said Harvey; "but don't over-sleep."
Sure enough, Henry Burns was awake next morning by a few minutes afterfour o'clock; but he was not ahead of Little Tim, this time, who was soexcited that he had slept all night with one eye half-open, and who hadbeen up once or twice in the dead of night, thinking it must be nearmorning. He was over the rail of the _Viking_, at the first appearance ofHenry Burns, and, between them, there was no more sleep for anybody.
It was dead calm over all the bay; and, one thing was certain, there wasas yet no news of the mackerel having come in, for there were no boatsout.
"We've stolen a march on the fishermen for once," exclaimed Tom, as theyate a hurried breakfast and got the lines ready. "I wonder if themackerel are looking for breakfast, too."
They put out, shortly, in the two dories, rowing down a half-mile towhere the crew had seen the fish the night before. There was no sign ofthe water breaking, anywhere, to denote the presence of a school.
"Never mind, we'll throw out, anyway," said Harvey. "Sometimes they'rearound when they don't break. They may be feeding deeper."
Taking a long-handled tin dipper, he filled the bucket of bait nearly tothe brim with sea-water, and stirred it vigorously for a moment. Then hetook a dipper of the stuff and threw it as far from the boat as he could,scattering it broadly over the surface of the water.
They waited, watching eagerly, but the bits of ground fish sank slowly,undisturbed.
"Don't seem to be at home," muttered Harvey. "Row out a little farther,and we'll try them again."
They repeated the manoeuvre several times, but each time the bait wasuntaken. It sank slowly, each tiny particle clearly defined in the stillwater, settling in odd little patches of discoloration.
Then, of a sudden, there was a sharp severance of one of these patches,as though an arrow had been shot through it. The next moment, there was adarting here and there and everywhere. The pieces of fish disappeared intiny flurries. At the same time, the surface of the water broke intomyriads of tiny ripples, as though whipped up by a breeze.
"They're here," whispered Harvey. "Get out the lines." He filled thedipper once more and threw it broadcast, but this time nearer the boats.They threw out the lines, baited with the shining pieces of flounder.
It seemed as though every bait was seized at once; for, in a moment,every boy was pulling in, and a half-dozen mackerel came over thegunwales together.
They baited up anew, then, knowing that no bait serves so well formackerel as a piece cut from the under side of the fish, itself. This,white and shiny, and pierced twice through the tough skin with the barbof the hook, would indeed often answer several times in succession,without rebaiting.
They rigged two lines for each fisherman, tying an end of each line tothe gunwale, so that, when a bite was felt, one of the lines could bedropped while the fish on the other was hauled aboard. The mackerel,indeed, bit so ravenously that it was hardly necessary to stop to see ifa fish was hooked, but only to catch up one line, as quick as a fish hadbeen removed from the other and that line thrown out, and haul in again.Nine times out of ten there would be a mackerel on the hook. Standing upin the dories, to work to better advantage, they were soon half knee-deepin the fish.
"We'll fill the boats, if they keep this up," said Harvey. "Tom, you'renearest the oars; just row back toward the yacht, easily, and we'll tollthem up that way."
He threw out more bait, as Tom worked the dory back, and the whole schoolfollowed, hungrily. In a few minutes the boys had climbed aboard theyachts and were fishing from them, to better advantage.
A half-hour went by, and the fish had not ceased biting. The boys weredrenched to the skin from their hips to their feet, with the drippingsfrom the wet lines; for, in their haste, they had not stopped to dontheir oilskin breeches.
"We ought to have known better, with all the experience we have had thissummer," said Henry Burns; "but never mind, we'll make enough out of thiscatch to buy new clothes, if the wind only serves us, later."
By the end of an hour, the sun was up and gleaming across the water.
"They're likely to leave us soon, now," remarked Harvey; but, oddlyenough, the fish still remained about the boats in such numbers that thewater seemed fairly alive with them. However, with the warmth of thesun's rays, the voracity of the mackerel abated somewhat, and they beganpulling them in more slowly.
"I'm just as glad," exclaimed Tom, whose arms, bronzed and muscular, werenevertheless beginning to feel the novel exercise. "My arms and wristsache, and I know I'll never be able to stand up straight again. My backis bent, and frozen that way, with leaning over this rail."
Suddenly, after a quarter of an hour more, the fish began making littleleaps half out of water, breaking the surface with little splashings andwhirls.
"They'll be gone now," said Harvey. "Some bigger fish are chasing them.That's what makes them act that way."
This seemed to be true, for presently the water that, a moment before,had been alive with the darting fish, became still and deserted. Theytook one or two more, by letting their baits sink deep in the water, butthe big catch was ended.
"It's pretty near a record for hand-line fishing in a single morningaround here, I guess," said Harvey. "How many do you think we've caught,Henry?"
"Nearly five hundred, I should say," answered Henry Burns.
"More than that, I'll bet," exclaimed his enthusiastic comrade. And foronce, at least, Harvey was nearer correct than Henry Burns; for, whenthey had counted them, some hours later, there were five hundred, andeighteen more, in the _Viking's_ catch; and as for the crew of the_Surprise_, they were only fifty below this figure.
"Oh, but I'm hungry!" exclaimed Bob, dropping on to the seat. "And, say,it's somebody's else turn to cook breakfast."
"I'll do it," said Tom.
"Well, you go ahead," said Henry Burns, "and the rest of us
will stowthese fish down below, out of the sun."
They went to work with a will, the crew of the _Surprise_ doing likewise.
"Too bad to stow fish in this nice, clean cabin," said Joe Hinman; "butnever mind, we'll have to turn to, by and by, and scrub it, that's all."
They had the luck with them, again; for hardly had they begun to preparebreakfast, than the water rippled with a second day's westerly breeze.They got the two yachts under sail, without a moment's loss of time.
"See here, Joe," called Harvey, as the yachts began to fill away, "we'llplay fair with you. We can outsail you some, and we shall get toStoneland before you do. We'll take the big hotel in the harbour, andthen the market. The market will buy all that either of us have left.We'll leave you the other hotel, a half-mile up the shore. There are'most as many guests there, and they're all summer boarders, so they'lltake as many fish. If we break a stay on the trip over and get delayed,you give us the same chance, eh?"
"Ay, ay," responded Joe. "Good luck!"
The wind not only came sharp and strong, an hour later, but there werethunder-clouds in the sky, down near the horizon-line, and the breeze wasfull of quick flaws and was treacherous. Before they were half-way overto Stoneland, they were sailing under two reefs and making the water fly.
"It's great!" cried Harvey, hugging the wheel, in his delight. "Let herblow good and hard as long as it doesn't storm. We'll do the fifteenmiles in an hour and a half, at this rate."
The two yachts were lying well over in the water, crushing it white underthe lee-rail, and making fast time.
"We'll get a storm, too, by nightfall," said Henry Burns, lookingweather-wise at the sky. "But we shall have sold our fish first, andwe'll be snug behind the breakwater. So let it come."
The yachtsmen were in great spirits. Even Henry Burns betrayed symptomsof excitement as they ran into the harbour, early in the forenoon, andbrought the _Viking_ up neatly at the hotel wharf.
A few minutes later, Henry Burns and Jack Harvey approached a somewhatimportant-appearing person on the hotel veranda, who had been pointed outto them as the proprietor.
"Fish? No, I don't buy fish," he answered, shortly, in reply to HenryBurns's question. "See the steward. He attends to that."
Harvey reddened, but Henry Burns smiled and said:
"That's all right, Jack. We're only fishermen, you know. Come on, we'llsee the steward. We'll make him pay more for the fish, just because theproprietor was haughty."
Henry Burns was fortunate enough to catch the steward in the hoteloffice, where he stated his errand, coolly, before some of the guests.
"Good!" exclaimed one of them. "You'd better get 'em, Mr. Blake. Youhaven't given us any fresh mackerel this season."
"He'll have to buy some, now, whether he wants to or not," said HenryBurns to Harvey, as they followed the steward into his private office.
"Now see here," said the steward, "I've got some six hundred guests inthis house, and I need about three hundred fish. I want a fairly easyprice for that many."
"Twenty cents apiece, right through," answered Henry Burns, promptly.
"Ho! That's too much," said the steward. "Can't do it. Try again."
"That's the figure," insisted Henry Burns. "You'll have to pay more, ifwe sell them to the market, you know. Then there's the hotel up theshore. What would your boarders say if we took them up there and soldthem?"
Steward Blake looked at Henry Burns sternly for a moment; then a grimsmile played about the corners of his mouth.
"You're kind of sharp, aren't you?" he asked. "Well, I guess you've gotme there, as these are the first of the season. Throw in an extra dozenfor good measure, and it's a bargain."
"All right," said Henry Burns.
A few moments later, with three twenty-dollar bills tucked away in awallet in his inner waistcoat pocket, Henry Burns, with Harvey, was goingbriskly down to the wharf, where he and his comrades were soon engaged inloading the fish into the hotel wagon.
"We can be haughty now, ourselves," he said, as they got under way oncemore and stood down for the market.
Ten cents apiece was the marketman's figure, and they let the remaindergo for that. Then, with eighty dollars for the entire morning's catch,they went aboard the _Viking_ and punched and pummelled one another likea lot of young bears, from sheer excess of joy.
"I wonder how the crew will come out," said Harvey. "I'm afraid theywon't do as well at a bargain as you did, Henry."
"Perhaps so," said Henry Burns. "They've got Little Tim aboard, and he'spretty shrewd, sometimes."
And indeed, it was at Little Tim's suggestion that the _Surprise_ went onup the coast, after the crew had done business with the hotel left forthem according to the agreement, and they sold the remainder of theircatch at the hotel at Hampton, three miles farther on. And they, too,found themselves rich at the end of their bargaining, with sixty dollarsto divide among the four of them.
Then, as the day wore on threatening, with the thunder-clouds slowlymounting higher, and the wind coming in fiercer gusts, the yachts, eachin a safe harbour, laid up for the day. The respective crews wanderedabout the towns as if they were each, individually, the mayor, or atleast were a party of the selectmen.
The Warren boys, having returned on the previous evening, and beingapprised by Mrs. Warren of the news confided to her care, weredisappointed not to have joined the party; but they made ready, the nextmorning, to follow. Then the early morning steamer from Bellport broughtthem a letter, saying that Mr. Warren, senior, would arrive on thenight-boat from Benton, and had arranged for a week's cruise with them,among the islands. So they changed their plans to a short run down towardthe foot of Grand Island, to be back at nightfall.
There, again, the fortune of sailing was against them. By mid-afternoon,when they would have put back, the storm threatened.
"No use," said George Warren, reluctantly. "We'll have to wait for it toblow over. We'll be glad enough of this good harbour in a half-hourmore."
The storm broke soon after, heavily. By five o'clock it was pouring intorrents, with sharp flashes of lightning illumining the darkened watersof the bay. By six o'clock it eased up a little.
"Well, one of us is in for it," said George Warren. "Somebody's got totramp up the island, home. Father will be down, and he won't like it, tofind us gone. The other two can sail the yacht up in the morning. We'lldraw lots to see who goes."
To the immense relief of his brothers, the lot fell to him. They consoledhim, but with satisfaction not all unconcealed. He took it in good part,however.
"Don't feel too bad about it, Joe," he said, as he bade them good night."I know you wanted to go home, but I'll tell the folks you'recomfortable."
He started off in the drizzle. They had run down about seven miles, andthere was that length of muddy road ahead of him. It was not his fortuneto accomplish much of his journey, however. Three miles up the island,the storm resumed its fury, blowing the rain fiercely in his face, whilethe whole island seemed to shake with the crashing of the thunder. It wasuseless to contend against it, and, at length, he turned in at afarmhouse by the roadside, and sought shelter.
"Yes, indeed," said the housewife, to his request. "There's the spareroom at the end of the hall up-stairs for you, and welcome. There's woodin the wood-box, too, and you can build up a fire in the fireplace anddry your clothes. You're as wet as a drowned cat. When you're dried out,come down-stairs and I'll have a cup of tea for you. We've had a boarderfor two days in that room, but he went away yesterday; and I'm glad he'sgone, for your sake."
George Warren scrambled up the stairs, at the risk of the lamp which thewoman had handed to him, lighted. Inside the room, he took a handful ofkindling from the wood-box, and soon had it ablaze, with the aid of a fewscraps of old newspaper. Then he laid some larger pieces of driftwoodacross, and quickly had a cheerful fire roaring up the chimney.
He threw off his wet clothing, wrapped a blanket about him, and crouchedby the fire to enjoy its warmth--for he had been
chilled through.
The huge, old-fashioned fireplace would seem not to have been used for along time; for, in the corners of it were odds and ends and scraps ofpaper, that had evidently been swept up from the floor and thrown inthere, as the most convenient place for their disposal. George Warrenpoked some of this stuff into the fire and watched it blaze. He picked upa few scraps of paper and threw them in.
Then, as he repeated this action, there was the half of an envelope thatthe light of the fire illuminated, as he held it in his hand. Part of theaddress remained, and, even as he consigned it to the flames, he read itclearly:
"Carleton, "Bellport, "Me."
"Hello! that's funny," he remarked. "That's Mr. Carleton's name--and hewas over at Bellport, too. I thought he had gone away to Boston. I'llhave to ask about him in the morning."
But, in his hurry next morning, George Warren forgot about the letteruntil he was a half-mile up the road.
"I'll have to tell Henry Burns and Harvey about that, anyway," he said,as he walked along. "Henry Burns likes mysteries. He'll have some queernotion about why Mr. Carleton was down there, I'll bet."
But George Warren failed to inform either Henry Burns or any one elseabout his discovery; for he went on a week's cruise, next day, and whenhe returned it had passed out of his mind. At least, he didn't think ofit till about two weeks later.
The Rival Campers Afloat; or, The Prize Yacht Viking Page 18