CRABS AND DISASTER
"ARE you perfectly sure it is safe?" asked Cleo. "Seeing the bottom here
doesn't mean we can see it all the way across."
"Why, you could walk across the river, really," replied Louise. "Even at
high tide it's not more than a big pond."
"Oh, do come on," begged Grace. "Think of catching crabs."
"But who knows how to row?" demanded the cautious Cleo.
"I do!" called Margaret. "I always rowed out in the pond at Flosston."
"And so do I," insisted Julia. "We go to Lake George sometimes, and I
have tried rowing in the smaller streams there."
"And I have always known how to row," replied Louise emphatically.
"That being the case I suppose I must make the crabbing party
unanimous," capitulated Cleo, "although I should not enjoy a spill out
here so near the inlet."
"We will go up stream, the other way," conceded Louise, delighted at the
prospect of their crabbing party. "Come on, here is where we hire our
boat, and get our crabbing outfit."
Down to the landing that jutted out into the shallow Round River, the
girls hurried to procure their fishing outfit.
"A flat bottomed boat," urged Cleo.
"All right," agreed Louise. "But any big boat will do. There are four of
us. One basket and four poles," she ordered from the prim little gray
haired woman who kept the stand at the landing.
"And bait," went on Louise, while the other girls marveled at her marine
intelligence.
"Oh, what smelly stuff?" sniffed Grace, taking the basket and holding it
out at arm's length.
"That's the bait," explained Louise.
"I'm never going to eat fish as long as I live," resolved Cleo. "Each
time I meet it it smells worse."
"The same fish naturally would," joked Louise. "But this is only bait
Cleo--bait, don't you know what that means?" she teased, swinging the
obnoxious basket up to a line with Cleo's face, where avoiding the odor
would be impossible.
A boy was unfastening their boat, and he placed the oars in the locks
just as the girls reached the water's edge.
"Don't tip," cautioned Julia. "We could at least get wet, even in this
shallow water."
Grace and Margaret took the oars, and soon the crabbing party was
gliding out among the few vacationists who were taking advantage of the
pleasant afternoon on the water.
"Oh, look!" exclaimed Cleo. "There are the crabs! Where's our bait and
things?"
"We have to load up first," explained Louise, assuming the role of
fisherman. "Get your lines out, look out! Don't tangle them."
"But how do we hook them?" asked Julia, who was gingerly affixing an
unfortunate little "shiner" on her line, to serve as bait for the
foolish, greedy crab.
"We don't hook them, we catch them in the nets," further explained
Louise. "I came out with daddy last week."
"Oh, no wonder you are so wise," said Cleo, struggling with her line. "I
simply couldn't imagine what degree of scouting you learned to fish in;
because I didn't."
"We recall what a lovely time you had in Allbright woods," Grace
reminded Cleo. "But then it was at cooking fish you especially
qualified," she added referring to an incident related in "The Girl
Scout Pioneers."
"Oh, yes. My explosive mud ball!" assented Cleo. "But this is different.
Ugh! I shall never, never brag of clean hands again after this. There,
my fish is tied on the sinker; now what do I do, Weasie?"
"Don't rock the boat, that is always first and last orders," replied her
chum, "and next, just throw your line out in any direction you choose."
"Oh, I see. You just guess where the crabs are," replied Cleo, quite
interested, as her bait was leaving port, so to speak. "There! That's
the best part of the fun--taking aim," and she gracefully tossed her
flying line out into the water.
The other girls had likewise "cast," and now all were patiently waiting
for a bite.
"Now, when you feel a pull," advised Louise, "just bring it up and slip
your net in quietly, and scoop up Mr. Crab. There! I've got one! Now
watch!"
Just as she had ordered the others to do, Louise now scooped up her net,
and in came a good sized blue crab.
"Oh, look out," cried Grace. "Crabs bite fearfully. Louise, you are not
going to turn that thing loose in this little boat?" she wailed.
"Don't worry Grace; he goes right in his little basket. There!" and with
a skillful motion Louise did turn the squirming shell fish into the
basket.
"He's crawling out!" shrieked Julia. "Oh, we should have a cover for the
basket."
"No," Margaret said, shaking the basket and thus settling the nervous
crab. "He can't get out. He is just exercising. My, how clawy he is! How
many like that would it take to make a meal?"
"Quite a few I should think," replied Cleo. "For I know we don't eat the
shell. But this is fun. Let me have another try. My turn to land one
now," and again she cast out and patiently waited a bite.
The next shout of victory, however, came from Julia's end of the boat,
and she presently landed a very large crab, so large and lively in fact,
that all four girls helped to get him in the basket.
"Now, they'll fight," murmured Margaret. "See the way they claw each
other."
"Come on girls," called Louise. "We'll never fill our baskets if we hold
an autopsy over every catch. Here! I've got another," and into the
basket went another unfortunate.
"It's just like a game, and I think the chance of grabbing one is as
good fun as grabbing at Cross Tag," Cleo remarked. "Oh, there's one,
Grace; look at your line dragging!"
And so it went on until the crabs were piling up in the basket and
threatening to get out, in spite of the sea weed that was heaped on much
thicker than necessary, according to the opinion of Louise.
So intent were the girls on their crabbing game they had not noticed the
other craft drifting about them. Suddenly Grace pulled so hard at
Cleo's sleeve she almost lost a catch in the attempt.
"Look!" begged Grace. "Over in that boat! Wise Willie, the boy with the
book."
They all paused to observe the graceful green bark, in which was seated
the boy with the book, as Grace described him. And as usual the book was
very much in evidence.
In fact, his oars lay in their locks, and he was drifting aimlessly as
if the river were his, instead of the earth, according to Monte Cristo.
"Let's give him a scare and see if he is alive," suggested Cleo.
"Suppose we row up to him and ask him if he knows where the Weasle
lives," proposed Grace.
"Oh, please don't," implored Julia, who showed signs of nervousness.
"Why should we disturb him--he's only reading?"
"Oh, you like Wise Willie," teased Margaret. "Here's a flower from my
belt, toss it to him, Julia."
But in spite of their joking the boy in the boat, all unconscious of the
attention he was the center of, merely drifted on, until first one oar,
then the other slipped out of the boat, and floated down the river.
"I believe he _is_ unconscious," Grace continued to joke. "Now, of
course, we have to rescue his oars."
"Why?" asked Julia innocently.
"Or tow him in, if you would rather, Jule," suggested Louise. "Don't you
realize we are bound by traffic laws to assist a stranded boatman?"
"But he isn't stranded, and he doesn't need help," replied Julia with a
show of something like temper. "Why should we speak to a strange boy?"
she demanded.
"And why shouldn't we?" fired back Cleo. "If he isn't stranded it is
because he hasn't struck the strand yet; just watch him."
They dropped their nets and watched the boy, who, bent over his book,
drifted along without the least sign of regard for his situation.
Meanwhile the oars had drifted farther and farther away. A passing motor
boat swelled the tide to a current and this washed them almost out of
sight of the watchers.
"Being a boy we hesitate to hail him," said Louise. "Now, if that were a
girl----"
"Oh, if it were," interrupted Julia, with a meaning tone.
"All the same the poor boy may be late for dinner," said Grace
foolishly. "Let's hail him!" and she cupped her hands to her lips.
"Please don't," begged Julia. This objection brought forth a perfect
volley of cynicism.
Finally, Cleo took up one oar, and Margaret the other, and they
proceeded in the direction of the floating propellers. As they passed
the boy's boat, the girls spoke loudly of "some one losing his oars,"
but even this did not arouse him.
"Maybe we'll have to row him home," said Grace. "He doesn't look as if
he cared much whether he ever gets back to land or not."
It took but a few moments to get his oars, and again the girls turned up
stream.
"Who is going to give them to him," asked Louise, with a foolish giggle.
"We are noble scouts--we are!" mocked Cleo. "Mine be the task! A-hem!"
and here a fit of laughter spoiled the proposed effect.
"Here are your oars!" called Grace, before the others could realize what
she was about. But no boy answered.
"Say!" yelled Margaret, taking courage from Grace. "Say, boy! Here are
your oars!" Still no answer.
Louise took an oar and gave the drifting boat a vigorous shove.
At this the boy did look up, and for a moment he seemed to comprehend;
then he jumped up so suddenly he toppled over into the water between the
two boats!
"Oh, mercy!" cried the girls, in one voice.
"The river is deep enough here!" exclaimed Louise. "Give him an oar to
climb on."
A sudden scream from the boy in the water brought the melancholy news
that he could not swim! His boat drifted off as quickly as it was freed
from his weight, and the girls were not quite near enough to reach him.
"Hurry, hurry!" begged Louise, who was now rowing. "He may sink, then
what would he do?"
But the boy was splashing around making a brave attempt to keep up, and
really doing so by the flat handed action with which he patted the
water.
All embarrassment was now forgotten, as the scouts pulled up carefully
to where the boy was just bobbing up and down, each movement adding to
his peril.
"Climb in!" commanded Louise as they reached him. But he could scarcely
put his hand to the oar, and the girls noticed his face was blue white.
"Oh, dear me!" cried Julia, "he is fainting or something," and nervous
though she was, it was she who managed to get the first grip on the
weakened boy.
It was no easy matter to get him into the boat; he was struggling and
gasping for breath, and could make very little effort to help himself.
Finally, when all four girls had succeeded in keeping the boat balanced
and dragging him into it, he gave one painful gasp, closed his eyes, and
sank into unconsciousness.