After breakfast he made no delay, for he wished to catch that bass.
First he took a good look at his island to see where she kept her
private ice-box. On the west it was full of fiords, but it struck him
that on the east it resembled Resaron, the little Swedish island that
has revealed four elements to the world. His tent stood on the Duckling
about where the hamlet of Ytterby stands on Resaron, except that no
brook led down to the water.
Instead of a brook the Duckling supported a line of bushes—blueberries
and sweet gale—leading out to the edge of the cliff. A blueberry can
extract delicious acid out of silica, and sweet gale can take up the
odor of pine needles and change it into that of bay leaves. He
remembered how the bushes mantled the rock clean down to the water, and
determined to try for bass at that point.
He descended to the boat-house and stole a dozen minnows, leaving about
twenty-seven grams of silver in the minnow pail. Then he rowed over to
Ytterby, selected a great triton of the minnows, and experimented. The
cliff was no place to land anything, but as he really expected nothing—
He got a bite! Say rather a submarine starting for Finland! His line
whizzed away, swung through a quadrant, and started back. He reeled as
fast as he could, and with one strong effort swung a five-pound bass
clean up over his head. It landed in the bushes, and he had to go in
head first after it.
Then something happened. The man disappeared, pole and all. He felt the
darkness of a cave, the ledge of rock that struck him across the heart,
the ice water closing over him. Then he was rising and feeling for the
ledge. He found it, crawled up, and fell forward. He bit the air, but
his breath refused to come....
Meantime Jean had finished her dishes and assembled the materials for
her chowder. She had everything now but the fish, and all she had to do
was to go to Pukwudgee and get him. Pukwudgees are Indian fairies, and
she had always called her cave by that name, for once it was haunted by
the little wild men.
She ran down to the boat-house, found the silvery sunken treasure among
her minnows, and laughed. She rowed to Pukwudgee and tied up the
branches. She trolled deep, got a strike, and felt her fish make for the
cave. She played him gently out again, but suddenly he put on weight and
rose in spite of her.
Instantly his weight disappeared, and she thought he had torn the hook
out. But no, as she reeled in she saw a second line, one that had
crossed here. It came up tautly from within the cave!
There could be but one explanation—there must be an opening above, and a
terrible thing had happened!
She slipped off most of her clothes, stood for one instant unseen and
beautiful on the stem of the dory, and dived. She came up within, and
was instantly on the ledge. There was light enough from above to see him
clearly. She put her ear close to his heart and heard it beat, and then
burst out crying.
He gave a sigh.
“Is that you, nurse? What are you crying about?”
“I always cry when I’m happy.”
He reached out his hand and touched her bare arm. The hand drew back,
but she closed her own about it. He lay still, clasping it closely.
“Jean, what do you want me to do?”
“Keep your eyes closed.”
“I will. Is it any use to call for help?”
“No. We’re going back into the water. Just float, and let me do the
rest.”
She slipped off the ledge and eased him down on his back, and swam with
him upstream.
The cave was narrow, but the entrance was a foot under water. Having
reached it, she moved to the right, feeling with her toes for a jut of
rock. She found one, and now had something to push against. Marvin’s
left armpit was locked with her own. She reached over and grasped his
nose with her thumb and finger, and down they went like two seals
diving. Then, gathering all her forces, she sprang forward. The effort
sent her far from all support, but carried her under the barrier. Now
they were rising, and now she felt the rock against the nape of her
neck. She had made it, if she could only hold it. She set her jaw and
stiffened her neck and drew his head up into the air.
Now her right hand was free, and she caught the sweet gale. Inch by inch
she drew her burden along till she reached her dory. She lifted herself
in, still holding his collar by one hand. She braced herself, exerted
every gram of her strength, and slid him into the long-suffering boat.
“Please pull my fish in. The line is caught around my leg, and I can
feel him whenever he moves.”
She obeyed, and dropped the five-pounder beside him, where it flopped
with unwonted intoxication of oxygen. Then she hauled in the other end
of his line and finally his dripping pole.
“Tell me when to open my eyes.”
She stood up and put on her blouse and skirt and moccasins.
“Ready.”
He blinked at her as a dead warrior blinks at a Valkyrie.
“You saved my life. How much?”
“There’s no charge for saving lives. They are included with the board.”
“May I tell you that you are the bravest, cleverest, sweetest girl in
all the world?”
“No! You mustn’t say things like that to me.”
“But can’t you see that I love you?”
“I see that you are dripping wet.”
She swiftly rowed to his harbor and rested on her oars.
“Can you dress yourself? Shall I send father over?”
“Don’t even inform him, please. Do you want me to tell you about
Gratia?”
“I don’t care a snap about Gratia.”
Marvin shivered till his teeth chattered and the boat shook.
“But—but—she refused me. She didn’t want to tie my necktie.”
Jean burst into a peal of laughter and sprang from the dory. In two
minutes she had a fire blazing before his tent. In another minute she
had left the island, carrying his bass.