The sun was getting to be rather too hot for boating when the boys saw
the half-sunken wreck of a canal-boat close to the west shore, where
there was a nice shady grove. They immediately crossed the river, and,
landing near the wreck, began to get their fishing-tackle in order.
As there were only two poles, one of which belonged to Harry, and the
other to Tom, the two Sharpe boys were obliged either to cut poles
for themselves, or to watch the others while they fished. Jim cut a
pole for himself, but Joe preferred to lie on the bank. “I don’t care
to fish, anyhow,” he said. “I’ll agree to eat twice as much fish as
anybody else, if I can be excused from fishing.”
“If you don’t want to fish, you’d better hunt bait for us,” said Tom.
“I never thought about bait,” exclaimed Harry. “How are we going to dig
for worms without a spade?”
“Who wants any worms?” replied Tom. “Grasshoppers are the thing; and
the field just back of here is full of them. Come, Joe, catch us some
grasshoppers, won’t you?”
“How many do you want?” asked Joe. “I don’t want to waste good
grasshoppers on fellows who won’t use them. Let’s see: suppose I get
you ten grasshoppers apiece. Will that do?”
“Are you getting lazy, Joe?” said Tom, “or are you sick? A fellow who
don’t want to fish must have something wrong in his insides. Harry,
you’d better give him some medicine.”
“Oh, I’m all right,” replied Joe. “I’m a little sleepy to-day, but I’ll
get your grasshoppers.”
Joe took an empty tin can and went in search of grasshoppers, while
the rest were getting their hooks and lines ready. In a short time
he returned, and handed the can to Tom. “There’s just thirty-one
grasshoppers in that can,” said he. “I threw in one for good measure.
Now go ahead and fish, and I’ll have a nap.” So saying, he stretched
himself on the ground, and the other boys began to fish.
There were quantities of perch near the old canal-boat, and they bit
ravenously at the grasshoppers. It took only about a quarter of an hour
to catch nearly three dozen fish. These were more than the boys could
possibly eat; and Tom was just going to remark that they had better
stop fishing, when they were startled by a loud cry from Joe. Harry, in
swinging his line over his head so as to cast out a long way into the
river, had succeeded in hooking Joe in the right ear.
[Illustration: JOE IS CAUGHT.]
Of course Harry was extremely sorry, and he said so several times; but,
as Joe pointed out, “talk won’t pull a hook out of a fellow’s ear!”
The barb made it impracticable to draw the hook out, and it was quite
impossible that Joe should enjoy the cruise with a fish-hook in his
ear. Jim said that the hook must be cut out; but Joe objected to having
his ear cut to pieces with a dull jack-knife. In this emergency
Tom proposed to break off the shank of the hook, and then to push the
remainder of it through the ear. It was no easy matter, however, to
break the steel. Every time the hook was touched, Joe winced with pain;
but finally Tom managed to break the shank with the aid of the pair of
pliers that formed part of the stores. The hook was then gently and
firmly pressed through the ear, and carefully drawn out.
“I knew,” said Tom, “that something must be wrong when Joe said he
didn’t want to fish. This ought to be a warning to him.”
“It’s a warning to me,” said Harry, “not to throw my line all over the
State of New York.”
“Oh, it’s all right now,” said Joe. “Only the next time I go cruising
with Harry, I’m going to take a pair of cutting pincers to cut off the
shanks of fish-hooks after he gets through fishing. We’d better get a
pair at Hudson, anyhow, or else we’ll all be stuck full of hooks, if
Harry does any more fishing.”
Harry was so humbled by the result of his carelessness that he offered,
by way of penance, to clean and cook the fish. When this was done,
and the fish were served up smoking hot, they were so good that Joe
forgot his damaged ear, and Harry recovered his spirits. After a course
of fish and bread, a can of peaches was opened for dessert, and then
followed a good long rest. By three o’clock the heat began to lessen,
and the _Whitewing_ started on her way with a better breeze than she
had yet been favored with.
The boat travelled swiftly, and the breeze gradually freshened. The
whitecaps were beginning to make their appearance on the river before
it occurred to the boys that they must cross over to the east shore,
in order to camp where they could find shade while getting breakfast
the next morning. It had been one of Uncle John’s most earnest bits
of advice that they should always have shade in the morning. “Nothing
spoils the temper,” he had said, “like cooking under a bright sun; so
make sure that you keep in the shade until after breakfast.” Harry
felt a little nervous about crossing the river in so fresh a breeze,
since, as the breeze blew from the south, the boat could not sail
directly across the river without bringing the sea on her beam. He
did not mention that he was nervous, however, and he showed excellent
judgment in crossing the river diagonally, so as to avoid exposing the
broadside of the boat to the waves, that by this time were unpleasantly
high. The east bank was thus reached without taking a drop of water
into the boat, and she was then kept on her course up the river, within
a few rods of the shore.
This was a wise precaution in one respect; for, if the boat had
capsized, the boys could easily have swum ashore; but still it is
always risky to keep close to the shore, unless you know that there
are no rocks or snags in the way. Harry never thought of the danger of
being shipwrecked with the shore so close at hand, and was enjoying
the cooling breeze and the speed of the boat, when suddenly the
_Whitewing_ brought up with a crash that pitched everybody into the
bottom of the boat. She had struck a sunken rock, and the speed at
which she was going was so great that one of her planks was stove in.
Before the boys could pick themselves up, the water had rushed in, and
was rising rapidly. “Jump overboard, everybody!” cried Harry. “She
won’t float with us in her.” There was no time in which to pull off
shirts and trousers, and the boys plunged overboard without even taking
their hats off. They then took hold of the boat, two on each side of
her, and swam toward the shore. With so much water in her, the boat
was tremendously heavy; but the boys persevered, and finally reached
shallow water, where they could wade and drag her out on the sand.
“Here we are wet again!” exclaimed Jim. “The blankets are wet, too,
this time.”
“Never mind,” replied Tom. “It’s not more than five o’clock, and we can
get them dry before night.”
“We’ll have to work pretty fast, then,” said Harry. “Jim and Joe had
better build a big fire and dry the things, while you and I empty the
boat; or I’ll empty the boat, and you can pitch the tent. We’ll have to
put off supper till we can make sure of a dry bed.”
Harry took the things out of the boat one by one. Everything was wet
except the contents of the tin boxes, into which the water luckily had
not penetrated. As soon as the fire was built, Jim and Joe gave their
whole attention to drying the blankets and the spare clothing; and
when the boat was emptied, it was found that a hole nearly six inches
long and four inches wide had been made through one of the bottom
planks. Harry and Tom set to work to mend it. They took a piece of
canvas--which had luckily been kept in one of the tin boxes and was
quite dry--and tacked it neatly over the outside of the hole. They
next covered the canvas with a thin coating of white-lead, except at
the edges, where the white-lead was laid on very thickly. Over the
canvas the piece of zinc that had been brought for just such a purpose
was carefully tacked, and then thin strips of wood were placed over
the edges of the tin, and screwed down tightly with screws that went
through the zinc, but not through the canvas. Finally, white-lead was
put all around the outer edge of the zinc, and the boat was then left
bottom-side up on the sand, so that the white-lead could harden by
exposure to the air.
Nobody cared to go for milk in wet clothes; and so, when the boat was
mended, the boys all sat around the fire to dry themselves, and made a
supper of crackers. What with the heat and the wind, it was not very
long before their clothes and blankets were thoroughly dried; and they
could look forward to a comfortable night. The tent was pitched where
no steamboat swell could possibly touch it, and the boat was apparently
out of reach of the tide. It was very early when the boys “turned in,”
and for the first time in the cruise they slept peacefully all night.