A SPOILT BREAKFAST
"ANYONE awake?" enquired Mr Trematon softly, thrusting his head
through the partially unlaced opening of the tent, where the eight
"Otters" were lying like the spokes of a wheel, each lad's feet
towards the tent-pole.
"I am, sir," replied Atherton and Green.
"Slip on your things and come out. I've a little job for you."
Without hesitation the two lads obeyed, and were soon blinking in the
early morning sun. It was just after five o'clock--réveillé was to
be at half-past six.
The air was keen and the dew still thick upon the short grass. The
village of Polkerwyck was yet in shadow, for the sun had not risen
sufficiently high to throw its slanting beams upon the deep-set
hamlet. But already there were signs of activity, for several of the
fishing boats that had been out all night had just returned and were
landing their cargoes for conveyance to the nearest railway station.
So still was the air that the reflections of the frowning cliffs and
the deep browns of the tanned sails were faithfully reproduced in the
placid water. The morning mist still lingered on the hill-tops, and
drifted in ill-defined patches across the headlands that defined the
limits of the bay.
"Best part of the day, sir," said Atherton cheerfully, as he surveyed
the scene of tranquillity.
"It is," assented Mr Trematon. "It makes one pity the sluggards who
never see the sun rise. But I want you two to come with me across the
Polkerwyck. Old Varco promised he'd have an old boat's mast ready for
use as a flagstaff, and I want to commence our first day on Seal
Island by saluting the flag."
It was now nearly high tide, and thanks to the steepness of the shore
there was little difficulty in launching the smallest boat. The
Scoutmaster steered, while Atherton and Green rowed.
"Isn't the water clear," said Green, looking over the side. "I wish
we could have a bathe."
"All in good time," replied Mr Trematon. "There's a splendid bathing
cove just past that point of the island, where there is hardly any
current."
"How do we get there, sir?" asked Atherton. "The cliffs rise straight
from the sea."
"There's a path leading to a cave, that in turn communicates with the
sea. It used to be a favourite smugglers' haunt a century or more
ago. Easy now, Green, we're nearly there."
The boat's forefoot grounded on the sand; Green jumped out and
secured the painter, while the Scoutmaster and the Leader stowed the
oars and sprang ashore.
"Here's the mast," said Mr Trematon, indicating a thirty-foot pole
lying on the little stone quay. "I see Varco has rove some signal
halliards--thoughtful man."
"It's a lump, sir," remarked Green. "How are we to get it into the
boat? It will project ten feet at each end, and we will have no end
of a job to row."
"I don't mean to place it in the boat. We'll tow it. Atherton, make
this rope fast to that ring-bolt: we'll parbuckle the spar."
The Leader knew what his Scoutmaster meant. To push the mast over the
edge of the quay would scratch the paint and roughen the wood. Making
the end of his rope fast to a ring about a foot from the edge of the
wharf, Atherton waited till Mr Trematon had performed a similar
operation, the two ropes being twenty feet apart. Carefully the spar
was rolled till it rested on the ropes, the "free ends" of which the
Scoutmaster and Atherton held.
"Push the mast over the quay, Green," said Mr Trematon.
The pole, prevented from falling by the bights of the ropes, was now
easily and slowly lowered into the water, and attached by its tapered
end to the stern of the boat.
"That went smoothly enough, sir," said Green.
"Yes, two men can parbuckle a suitably-shaped object of thrice their
combined weight. All the same it won't be such an easy task to haul
the mast up the slope of Seal Island."
Upon landing on the Island, Atherton took the tapering end on his
shoulder, Mr Trematon and Green supporting the heavier end.
"Don't keep step," urged the Scoutmaster, "or the mast will sway and
possibly capsize us. Now, proceed."
It was no light work carrying the thirty-foot spar up the steep path,
but dogged energy prevailed, and before it was half-past six the
flagstaff was in position, ready for the hoisting of the Union Jack.
The first call on Hayes' bugle brought the Scouts from their tents.
Baker and Pat Coventry, who overnight had been detailed for cooks,
raced off' to construct earth ovens and light fires. Sayers, Scott,
and Armstrong, the three Tenderfoots, marched off with buckets to
bring a supply of water from the spring that the Scoutmaster had
pointed out; Everest and Fraser took a boat and crossed to the
mainland to procure milk, eggs and bacon from the farm; while the
rest of the two patrols opened up tents and aired the bedding.
At seven, coffee and bread and butter were served out: not a standing
meal, but merely a "stay" before breakfast. This was followed by
prayers, then all hands fell in for bathing parade.
All except Atherton and Green were somewhat surprised when Mr
Trematon led the way, not to the landing-place, but up hill in the
direction of the ruined hermitage.
"What's that?" exclaimed young Armstrong, as a small brown animal
with a tuft of white on its tail darted into a hole on the site of
the path. "Why, I believe it's a rabbit."
"Look, there are dozens of them," added Everest, pointing to a hollow
about two hundred yards off. "There they go as hard as they can."
"Yes, the Island is overrun with them, and so is most of Sir
Gwinnear's estate. The farmers look upon them as a pest, and destroy
as many as they can."
"Why pests, sir?" asked Phillips.
"Because they eat the grass that feed the sheep, nibble the young
corn shoots, undermine hedges, and so on. Of course, they are not so
numerous as in Australia, where agriculture is threatened with
disaster by their depreciations. One day, Phillips, you can have a
chance of shooting a few for our dinner. It will be necessary for you
to get a gun licence before you can carry a gun. I'll see to that,
however. But steady now: here's the entrance to our bathing cove."
"What, here, sir?" asked several of the lads in chorus, and in a tone
of incredulity, for the place indicated by the Scoutmaster was a
circular hole surrounded by a ruinous stone wall. "Yes: follow me.
Mind where you tread. It's quite safe if you take reasonable
precautions."
The shaft, a natural tunnel, was descended by means of a spiral path,
in places less than three feet in width, a rusty iron handrail--a
relic of the good old smuggling days--serving as a none too reliable
protection.
At eighty feet from the summit a steeply shelving floor was reached,
whence a long, irregular tunnel led seawards. For part of this
distance the place was in almost total darkness, while the air was
moist and chilly.
Presently the tunnel began to get lighter, and the rocky floor gave
place to a carpet of smooth white sand, terminating at the water's
edge.
"What a ripping bathing-place, sir," exclaimed Neale.
"Come on, lads, let's see who will be the first in," shouted Coventry
major, hastily slipping off his scanty garments: an example that the
others followed.
"Steady, boys," said the Scoutmaster. "Not so fast. I know that you
can all swim more or less: but what precautions are you taking
against accidents?"
"We're all together, sir," replied Coventry senior. "If needs be
there is plenty of assistance ready."
"Quite so," assented Mr Trematon. "But that is hardly sufficient. I
remember the case of a party of fifty soldiers bathing together. One
of them suddenly sank without a shout, and he was not missed until
the men paraded to march back to barracks. So I think we will have a
boat out. The two Leaders and I will man the craft, and we can have
our swim afterwards."
"A boat, sir? We will have to go back to the landing-place to fetch
one."
"No need to do that. Come this way."
A few feet above high-water mark a side passage branched from the
main tunnel, and within it was a small rowing boat about twelve feet
in length, with oars and thole pins ready for use. A life-buoy and a
length of rope lay under the sternsheets.
"This is one of Peter Varco's boats," said Mr Trematon. "He always
keeps it here for the use of visitors who come to the place--Dollar
Cove it is called--for bathing. He told me we could make use of it."
"Why is this called Dollar Cove, sir?" asked Basil Armstrong.
"They say a Spanish treasure ship was wrecked on the west side of
Seal Island, and that her precious cargo was strewn over the bottom
of the sea. Curiously enough the only coins ever washed ashore have
been found at the mouth of this cove."
"Should we find any if we looked, sir?" asked Fraser.
"That I cannot say; but suppose instead of standing here in the cold
we launch this boat?"
Soon the placid waters of the bathing-cove were disturbed by the
splashing of the lads of the two patrols, and all were somewhat
reluctant to hear Mr Trematon's voice calling for them to come and
dress.
When the Scoutmaster and the Headers had had their swim the Scouts
made their way to the top of the natural staircase, and, doubling,
returned to the camp glowing with health and excitement.
Directly the bedding was replaced and the tents tidied, breakfast was
served. The camp oven fires had been banked up, and a plentiful
supply of hot water was instantly available. Eggs, boiled in salt
water,--which, according to Mr Trematon's idea, were far more
appetising than if done in fresh water--small flat loaves baked on
hot ashes, and cocoa formed the repast.
"Whatever is the matter with you, Hayes?" asked Mr Trematon as the
Scout gave a partly suppressed gurgle, rolled his eyes, and clutched
his throat with both hands.
Without replying Hayes suddenly bolted, while the Scoutmaster and
several of the Scouts followed to see what was amiss.
"The bread, sir," gasped Hayes, after several attempts to make him
explain.
"The bread? What's wrong with it."
"It tastes horrible," replied the victim. "I feel awfully queer."
Just then young Coventry came running up, making similar grimaces to
those of the first sufferer. He in turn was followed by little Reggie
Scott, who, though undoubtedly equally as upset as his bigger
comrades, kept himself more under control.
"It's the bread, sir," he announced, holding up half of one of the
flat cakes. "I believe there's oil in it."
The Scoutmaster took the proffered bread and smelt it.
"You're right," he replied. "It is paraffin. What on earth have Baker
and Pat Coventry been doing? Cheer up, you sufferers; you're not
poisoned. Smile and look pleasant, and we'll hold a court-martial on
the cooks."
Further examination revealed the fact that all the bread was tainted
with the unpleasant odour of paraffin. On being questioned Pat
Coventry replied that he took no part in making the dough, while
Baker admitted that he had noticed an oily substance on the water
when mixed with the flour.
"I skimmed it off, sir," he explained. "I didn't know that it was
paraffin."
"Haven't you a nose? Why didn't you use your sense of smell?"
"I didn't think of it, sir."
"Well it cannot be helped now; another time, if you have any doubts,
ask me. That's what I am here for," said Mr Trematon. "Serve out the
biscuits, Atherton. The bread is useless. After breakfast we must
find out how the paraffin got into the flour. But it's close on
eight. Fall in."
The two patrols, staves in hand, lined up under their respective
Leaders on either side of the flagstaff. The Union Jack was toggled
to the halliards, and at the hour the ensign was slowly hoisted,
while the Scouts stood alert and loyally saluted the Emblem of
Empire.
"Sit easy!" ordered the Scoutmaster, and the Scouts sat down to
listen to Mr Trematon's instructions.
"This is our first complete day in camp," he said, "and we can hardly
hope to get into proper working order so soon. During the rest of the
morning we must make more arrangements for our welfare. Coming in
late last night we contented ourselves by merely pitching the tents.
Had it rained, there would have been considerable discomfort on Seal
Island, I fear. By this evening I hope to have the whole routine
outlined, so that we may carry out our daily programme without a
hitch. Simpson, I want you to take Armstrong and Hayes with you,
cross to the mainland and purchase a sack of flour. Four of the
'Otters' will take spades and dig trenches round the tents and other
holes where required. Four of the "Wolves" will attend on the cooks.
and build a watertight hut for the kitchen. The rest of you can
construct mattresses of bracken. You remember instruction was given
on that subject only a few weeks ago. Now set to work and see how
much you can do before one o'clock."
Calling the two cooks to accompany him, Mr Trematon walked over to
the spot where the temporary ovens had been erected. A brief
inspection showed the cause of the failure of the breakfast
arrangements. In loading the boats for the journey across to Seal
Island a can of paraffin had been dumped alongside the sack of flour,
and the screw top of the former having worked loose a portion of the
oil soaked into the flour.
During the rest of the morning the lads worked hard putting the camp
in order. Trenches to drain the surface water in a possible heavy
downpour of rain were dug round the tents; a mud and wattle hut,
large enough to afford complete shelter for the cooks and their
utensils, was erected; while a large tub was sunk in the little
stream fed by the spring, so that a supply of fresh water was easily
obtainable without having to make a lengthy journey to the fountain
head.
The mattresses, too, were in a forward state. The frames of these
were constructed of straight branches, the side pieces being five
feet six inches in length, the head two feet, and the foot fifteen
inches. By tapering the shape of the cots it was possible to arrange
them systematically round the tent, so that each Scout slept with his
feet towards the tent-pole. A coarse netting of thick twine filled
the space between the cot frames, and through the meshes bracken was
woven, forming a springy and comfortable couch, the frames being
raised sufficiently to prevent the "sag," caused by the sleepers'
bodies, from touching the ground.
For dinner, boiled bacon, cabbage and potatoes and suet pudding were
provided, and the cooks of the day did themselves credit, as if to
atone for the spoiling of the breakfast. True, Tom Mayne found a
boiled caterpillar in his share of the cabbage, and Coventry minor
all but swallowed a piece of string that had been mixed up with the
suet, but as the Scoutmaster remarked such incidents are really
blessings in disguise, since the lads afterwards carefully examined
every portion of the dinner and thus prevented any undue haste in
eating.
"It is certainly advisable that we should make ourselves thoroughly
acquainted with our temporary domain," said Mr Trematon, after dinner
was over. "It is now half past one. We will rest for half an hour and
then set out for an exploration of Seal Island."