Chapter 4

"How'd you come to know my name?" blustered the captain. "I s'pose you've been pumping that mealy-mouthed landlubber of a Dolph."

"Dolph hasn't said a word till he spoke to you just now. He couldn't. I guess we understand each other, so you and he had better start for the _Silicon_. You'll find your dory in the rockweed about fifty feet east of the cove. I'll keep your revolvers a few days, and then mail them to you at the Rockland post-office. You can get 'em there. Better go now! Turn that man loose, Budge!"

Muttering vengeance, Dolph and the captain disappeared in the direction of the Sly Hole. After giving them ample time to find the dory, the boys quietly made their way to the north shore.

A boat with two men was visible, rowing out to the _Silicon_. As soon as it reached its destination the schooner got under way and proceeded eastward.

"I don't like the looks of that craft," said Spurling. "There's something suspicious about her. Did you hear what Dolph said to the captain about making money? They're engaged in some kind of smuggling, or I'll eat my hat! But what it can be I haven't any idea. Well, we're lucky to be rid of 'em so easily. Guess they'll give Tarpaulin Island a wide berth after this. And it's dollars to doughnuts the captain never inquires after those revolvers at the Rockland office. I didn't feel it was quite safe to give 'em back to him just now, but I didn't want to take 'em away for good. He can do as he pleases about sending for 'em."

He yawned.

"It's past one, and we'd better be getting back to camp, or we won't be in condition for our busy day to-morrow. Come on, boys!"

Slowly, and a trifle weariedly, the five made their way across the island. Even though the fire in the stove had gone out long since, the warmth of the cabin felt good to them.

"Well, Whittington," remarked Spurling as they once more crept into their bunks, "how do you like your first night on Tarpaulin? Some life out here, after all, eh?"

Percy had recovered his assurance. Now that the experience was over he rather enjoyed it.

"Not so bad," he replied.

Before he went to sleep he lay for some time thinking.

V

GETTING READY

A persistent metallic whirring broke rudely in upon the dreams of the heavy sleepers in Camp Spurling. It was four o'clock. It seemed to Percy as if he had never before found so much trouble in getting his eyes open.

"Choke that clock off, somebody!" shouted Lane from overhead. "I'm not deaf, but I shall be if this hullabaloo keeps on much longer."

Spurling, who was already half-dressed, checked the alarm. The red rays of the morning sun, striking through the eastern window, bathed everything in crimson. The minds of the boys turned naturally to the foiled thieves.

"Where do you think the _Silicon_ is?" asked Throppy.

"Twenty-five miles east, and making for Fundy as fast as sail and gasolene'll take her," replied Jim. "She can't go any too far or fast to suit me."

A hearty breakfast of fried bacon, hot biscuits, and coffee made the drowsy crowd feel better.

"Now," said Spurling, "we've got a big day's work ahead of us, and the sooner we start on it the better. We want to begin as quick as we can to round up some of those dollars that are finning and crawling in to us, so we mustn't waste any time in getting our trawls and traps overboard. First of all, we need bait. We can buy hake heads for our lobster-traps from the fish-wharf at Matinicus, and herring for the trawls from one of the weirs at Vinalhaven. That means traveling over forty miles; but it's fine weather, and we ought to do it easily. Besides, it'll give you fellows a good chance to learn how to handle a power-sloop. We'll take the trawls with us, and bait 'em on the way back, so as not to lose any time; and we'll set most of those lobster-traps this afternoon."

They all went over to the fish-house, and Jim swung the door wide open. Five great hogsheads inside caught Percy's eye.

"What're those for?" he asked.

"Holding fish. Each one'll take care of what two thousand pounds of round fish'll make after they're dressed and salted."

"What do you mean by round fish?"

"Just as they come out of the water, before they're cleaned."

"What're those half-barrels, full of small rope?"

"Trawl-tubs; and those coils inside are the trawls. Each tub holds about five hundred fathoms of ground-line, with a thirty-eight-inch ganging, or short line with a hook on its end, tied every five feet; so there're between five hundred and six hundred hooks to every tub. One man alone can bait and handle four tubs of trawl. Two of us are going to fish together, so we ought to be able to swing six tubs without any trouble."

Percy looked about the house. Other barrels stood there; a net was draped over the beams; many coils of small rope were hung along the walls or piled on the floor. His attention was attracted by a large heap of peculiarly shaped pieces of wood. Each was eighteen inches long, five inches square at one end, and tapered almost to a point at the other, near which a hole was bored; they were painted white, encircled by a single green stripe, and bore the brand "SP."

"Cedar lobster-buoys," said Jim. "SP's my Uncle Tom's brand. Every man has a different kind, so his floats won't get mixed with anybody else's. Now let's take these tubs of trawl aboard the sloop."

At six the _Barracouta_, carrying the five boys and towing the dory, started from Sprowl's Cove for Matinicus. It was so calm that the sails were of little assistance, and they had to depend almost entirely on the engine. Rounding Brimstone Point, they headed slightly north of west for Seal Island, about six miles away.

Everybody took his turn at steering, Jim acting as instructor.

"Any one of you may be called on to handle this boat alone some time in the next three months, and you can't begin learning how any too early."

Percy's experience with automobiles stood him in good stead. He was naturally interested in machinery, and soon mastered the details of the _Barracouta's_ engine. The others also showed themselves apt pupils.

At half past seven the high cliffs of Seal Island lay to the north. Passing for a mile along its rocky shores, they kept on toward Matinicus, now rising into view. Jim pointed to a breaker a little south of their course.

"Malcolm's Ledges! A bad bunch of rocks. Years ago a fishing-schooner struck there in the night. Crew thought at first they'd reached safety, but they soon found it was only a half-tide ledge. The vessel heaved over it when the water rose, and sunk, so that only her topmast stuck out. One man, the sole survivor, hung to that. He was taken off in the morning, but his arm was worn almost to the bone by the swaying of the mast."

Farther on they passed the long, treeless, granite hump of Wooden Ball, with its few lobstering-shacks, and sheep grazing in its grassy valleys. Ledge after ledge went by, until at last they entered the little rocky haven of Matinicus, crammed with moored sloops and power-boats, and ran in beside the high, granite fish-pier at its head.

Percy found everything new and strange--the stilted wharves on the ledges, heaped with lobster-traps and festooned with buoys of all shapes and colors; the fish-pier with its open shed, sheltering the dark, discolored hogsheads rounded up with salted fish; the men in oilskin "petticoats," busy with splitting-knives on hake and cod and pollock and haddock, brought in by the noisy power-boats; the lighthouse-keepers from Matinicus Rock, five miles south, in military caps, oilskins, and red rubber boots, towing a dory to be dumped full of slimy hake heads for lobster bait; the post-office and general store above the cove, and the spruce-crowned rocks beyond it.

Jim pointed out a bronze tablet on a slanting ledge.

"In memory of Ebenezer Hall, first English settler on Matinicus. He lived with his family in a log house at the head of this cove. In 1757 some Indians were camped on one of the Green Islands, six miles or so northwest, living on the eggs of seabirds. Hall went over to the island one day and set fire to the grass, destroying the nests and eggs. Next morning five Indians in two canoes came over to Matinicus to take revenge. They landed on this beach, built a fire, and began cooking their breakfast. Hall had barricaded himself indoors, but he could put his head up through a little lookout in the top of his cabin. He wanted to shoot the Indians, but his wife wouldn't let him. After they had eaten they scattered and opened fire on the house from different points. Hall replied. Finally the Indians were reduced to their last half-bullet. One of them lay flat in that little hollow, while the others pretended to launch their canoes. Hall stuck his head up through the lookout to see what was going on, and the ambushed Indian sent the half-bullet through his brain. He dropped back inside. They wouldn't have known he was hit if his wife hadn't cried out for quarter. They burst open the door and carried her off, with her daughter and one son. Another boy escaped out of a back window and hid in the swamp, and they couldn't find him. Afterward he settled on an island close to Vinalhaven, where Heron's Neck Light is now."

"Hall had better not have burned that grass," said Percy.

"Yes," replied Jim. "If he had minded his own business and let the Indians alone he wouldn't have stopped that last half-bullet."

The fish-pier was in charge of a superintendent, employed by a large Gloucester concern. Jim arranged to sell here whatever fish they might catch during the summer. He also bought several bushels of salt, as well as two barrels of hake heads to start them in lobstering. The _Barracouta's_ tank was filled with twenty-five gallons of gasolene, and six five-gallon cans were purchased besides. The boat would require about seven gallons a day for ordinary fishing, so this would supply them for more than a week.

"How often do you get the mail?" asked Jim of the storekeeper, who was also postmaster.

"Three times a week by steamer from Rockland--Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays."

As Spurling had decided to bring his fish over every Friday, they would thus be enabled to keep in fairly close touch with the outside world. Percy, however, was somewhat disgusted. He had gotten into the habit of thinking he could not live without a daily paper. While the others were purchasing various supplies, including some mosquito netting, he replenished his stock of cigarettes.

"Anybody here got a wireless?" inquired Throppy.

"No, but there's one on Criehaven, three miles south."

Throppy had planned to install an outfit on Tarpaulin, and had already written home to have his plant there dismantled by his brother, and its parts forwarded by express to Matinicus. For an amateur he was an expert operator.

The _Barracouta_ was already well loaded when, with the dory towing behind, she rounded the granite breakwater and started for Vinalhaven, twelve miles away. At noon they ran in alongside Hardy's weir on the eastern shore of the island. Several bushels of glittering herring were dipped aboard, and the heavily freighted sloop at once swung away on her fifteen-mile jaunt to Tarpaulin.

"Now," said Jim, as soon as they were well clear of the island, "I'll teach you how to bait up. Take the tiller, Filippo."

Emptying out the ground-line from one of the tubs, he took a small herring in his left hand, and with his right grasped the shank of the hook on the first ganging; he forced the sharp point into the fish until the barb had gone clean through and the herring was impaled firmly. Then he dropped the hook into the empty tub, giving the ganging a deft swing, so that it fell in a smooth coil. He repeated the process swiftly, while the others watched him with interest.

"How many hooks can you bait in a minute?" asked Budge.

"Time me."

Budge followed the second-hand of his watch while the coil in the tub grew larger.

"Better than ten a minute," he announced. "That's going some."

"It's slow to what some fishermen can do. It means about an hour to a tub. Catch hold, you fellows, and see how fast you can do it. Might as well make a beginning. You'll have plenty of experience before the summer's ended. I'll take her awhile, Filippo."

The other boys, Percy included, were soon hard at work, each on his own tub. At first they made a slow, awkward business of it. Impatient exclamations rose as the sharp hooks were stuck into clumsy fingers. Finally Percy threw down his trawl in a fit of anger.

"I've had enough of this! I didn't come out here to butcher myself."

"You can steer," said Jim, quietly. "I'll take your place."

Percy stepped to the helm, and Jim began baiting again. The others stuck to their unfamiliar task, despite its discouragements, and were soon making fair headway. Percy eyed them sulkily. His pricked fingers smarted. The boat rolled and pitched on the old swell, making him a trifle seasick. A wave of disgust swept over him. This was no place for the son of a millionaire. He wished himself back on the land.

By the time they reached Tarpaulin, at about half past four, all the six trawls were baited.

"We won't set them till day after to-morrow," determined Jim. "Guess we can find enough work to keep us busy ashore till then."

There was no doubt about that. Until supper-time various odd jobs kept everybody occupied. Most important of all, the mosquito netting was cut and tacked over the three windows.

"Now we can have plenty of fresh air with the mosquitoes strained out of it," said Jim.

Boughs of spruce and fir were brought from the woods and strewn in the bunks under the blankets. That night the boys turned in early and slept like the dead. Even Percy could find little fault with his pillow and mattress of fragrant needles.

In the morning he took a swim. The water was too cold for comfort, and inadvertently he ran into a school of jellyfish, from which he emerged feeling as if he were on fire all over. He dressed hurriedly, shivering and disgruntled. The novelty of Tarpaulin was wearing off, and he hoped heartily that he would soon be in a more interesting place. A month there would drag horribly.

That forenoon the inside of the cabin was put to rights. The spring was cleaned out and stoned up. Under Jim's direction the boys gathered a heap of driftwood and dragged it up to the highest part of Brimstone Point. There a beacon was built, and kindling placed beneath it.

"That'll serve as a lighthouse in case any of us get caught out at night and lose our way," said Jim.

The remainder of the morning was spent in fitting up the lobster-traps with warps, toggles, and buoys.

During dinner the summer's work was discussed and the boys were allotted their respective duties. To Jim fell naturally the oversight of the fishing and lobstering. Lane was to receive and disburse all moneys, and have general charge of the business matters of the concern. Throppy, because of his mechanical and inventive turn of mind, was intrusted with the duty of seeing that the cabin, the boats, and all the gear were kept in first-class shape.

"Now," concluded Jim, "so far the most important position of all has gone begging. Who'll be cook? Whittington, it lies between you and Filippo."

"You can strike my name from the ballot at the go-off," stated Percy, promptly. "I never even boiled an egg in my life, and I don't intend to begin now."

"That narrows it down to Filippo," said Jim. "What do you say? Will you cook for us?"

The Italian's melancholy olive face lighted up with pleasure.

"_Si, si!_" he exclaimed, gladly. "I will cook."

"Good enough! You're elected, then! We'll all tell you everything we know. Here's an old cook-book on the shelf, and well teach you the recipes. That leaves Whittington for general-utility man. He'll be our hewer of wood and drawer of water, to say nothing of washing the dishes. We'll all feel free to call on him whenever any of us gets into a tight place. How does that hit you, Whittington?"

"Never touched me! I'm no servant."

"What will you do, then?" inquired Jim, pointedly.

"Just what I please, and not a thing besides," replied Percy, with equal directness.

The others exchanged looks, but Jim said no more.

The greater part of the afternoon was devoted to setting the lobster-traps. They were loaded on the sloop, dory, and pea-pod, taken out, and dropped overboard around the island, brown bottles, of which there was a generous supply in the shed, being fastened to the warps for "toggles," to hold them off the bottom, so that they might not catch on the rocks. By five all the traps were set.

"You and Throppy can pull these to-morrow morning, Budge," said Jim, and he gave them brief directions. "I'll make a trip with you myself the next day. But to-morrow Whittington and I are going to see what we can get on the trawl."

After an early supper they climbed the eastern point. The sheep, which were feeding on its top, scampered off at their approach, their retreat covered by the ram, with shaking head. Nemo rushed, barking, after the flock, only to be butted ignominiously head over heels and to retreat, yelping, to the beach.

"Bully for Aries!" laughed Throppy.

"Who's Aries?" asked Percy.

"The ram, of course! Where's your Latin?"

"Never heard the word. Where do these sheep drink, anyway? Out of the spring?"

"No," replied Jim. "The dew on the grass gives them all the moisture they need."

Sandpeeps were teetering along the ledges below. Two seals bobbed their round, black heads in the surf at the promontory's foot. A mile to the south rose the spout of a whale.

"Many craft go by here?" inquired Budge.

"Plenty. Fishing-schooners, tugs with their tows, yachts, tramp steamers, sailing-vessels from the Bay of Fundy for Boston, and every little while a smack or power-boat. The ocean liners to Portland pass about fifteen miles south. So we oughtn't to be lonesome."

On the highest part of the point Throppy found a dead spruce about twenty feet tall, which he picked as a mast for his wireless. Its top would be at least sixty feet above the cabin, so he could talk over twenty-five miles. He had brought with him four hundred feet of copper bell-wire and a dozen or so cleat insulators. He cut two spruce spreaders, and strung his antennae. Then he made a hole through the cabin wall, improvised an insulator out of a broken bottle, and a rough table out of a spare box, and was ready to install his batteries and instruments as soon as they should arrive.

The boys returned to the cabin.

"How about those conditions, Whittington?" asked Budge. "Going to begin making 'em up?"

"No hurry about that," responded Percy, indifferently.

He went outside to smoke a cigarette. The bull-frogs were singing in the marsh. Inside, Roger was making a start on teaching Filippo English, and learning a little Italian in return. Throppy was tuning his violin. He played a short selection, and then the boys turned in.

"To-morrow we start fishing in dead earnest," said Jim. "Whittington and I'll get up at midnight, and Filippo'll have to give us breakfast. You other fellows won't need to turn out till four. Here's hoping for good luck all round!"

Percy made a wry face. The hour for rising did not sound good to him, but there was no harm in trying it once. After that he would see. Soon all were sound asleep, lulled by the murmur of the surf.

VI

TRAWLING FOR HAKE

"Turn out, Whittington! All aboard for the fishing-grounds!"

Spurling's voice, reinforcing the last echoes of the alarm-clock, dispelled Percy's inclination to roll over for another nap. Jim's strong tones carried a suggestion of authority which the younger lad was half minded to resent. He swallowed his pride, however, rolled out, and dressed. It was only a half-hour after midnight when he sat down with Jim to a breakfast of warmed-over beans, corn-bread, and coffee, prepared by Filippo. Budge and Throppy were sleeping soundly. They would not get up until three hours later. Percy envied them, but he ate a good meal.

"Now," directed Jim, "pull on those rubber boots and get into your oil-clothes. You'll see before long why they're useful. Trawling's a cold, wet, dirty business, and you want to be well prepared for it. And don't forget those nippers! They'll protect your hands from the chafe of the line."

Taking buoys, anchors, and other gear from the fish-house, they got into the dory and rowed out to the _Barracouta_. The six tubs of trawl, baited two afternoons before, were already on board. They stowed everything in its place, then headed out of the cove, towing the dory.

It was a clear, cool night. A light wind was blowing from the north, but the sea was fairly smooth.

"Guess we'll run down to Clay Bank," said Spurling. "It's only six miles to the southward. We ought to get a good set there."

Steadily they plowed on. It was Percy's first experience in a small boat on the midnight ocean, and he felt something akin to awe as they breasted the long swells, heaving in slowly and gently, yet resistlessly. Down to the horizon all around arched the deep blue firmament, spangled with stars. Matinicus Rock glittered in the west, while just beyond the shoulder of Brimstone Point, Saddleback Light, almost level with the sea, kept vanishing and reappearing.

As the _Barracouta_ forged forward her prow started two diverging lines of phosphorescent bubbles and her wake resembled a trail of boiling flame. Percy called Jim's attention to the display.

"Yes," remarked the latter, "the water's firing in good shape to-night."

There was a sudden splash to starboard. A gleaming body several feet long rolled up above the surface; a grunting sigh broke the silence; and the apparition disappeared.

"What's that?" demanded the startled Percy.

"Porpoise! 'Puffing pig.'"

For over an hour Jim held the sloop to an exact course by means of his compass. At half past two he stopped the engine.

"Well, I guess we're here!"

"We're here, fast enough!" assented Percy, staring about. "But where's here? Doesn't look any different to me from anywhere else."

"Clay Bank."

With his sounding-lead Jim tried the depth of the water.

"Thought so! Fifty fathoms!"

He prepared at once to set the trawl. Dropping the outer jib and mainsail, he jogged slowly before the wind under the jumbo, or inner jib.

"Now let her go!"

Over splashed the buoy, an empty pickle-keg, painted red, and drifted astern. Next, down went the light anchor. As soon as it reached bottom Jim lifted the first tub of trawl to the wash-board. Then with the heaving-stick, eighteen inches long and whittled to a point, he began to flirt overboard the coils lying in the tub.

Percy, holding the lantern, watched the steady stream of gangings and herring-baited hooks follow one another over the side and sink astern. In a surprisingly short time the tub was empty, and the five hundred fathoms of trawl, with more than a hook to a fathom, lay in a long, straight line on the muddy bottom, three hundred feet below.

A second tub trailed after the first, its trawl being attached to the end of the other. The four remaining tubs followed in order. At the junction of the second and third a buoy was fastened, and another between the fourth and fifth. To the end of the trawl from the sixth and last tub was tied another anchor, and as soon as it had reached bottom the last buoy was cast over. They had set almost three and a half miles of trawl, bearing more than thirty-one hundred short, baited lines.

"And there's a good job done!" exclaimed Jim, as the last buoy floated astern. "Here's to a ten-pound hake on every hook!"

"Do you often catch as many as that?" inquired Percy, innocently.

Jim laughed.

"Hardly! We'll be more than lucky if we get a tenth of that number."