Fish or Fowl for Supper.
It would take too long to tell you of all the things which happened
in our den. Little bits of fun which would sound nothing to you,
were great events in my life. I had lived so long on my invalid
couch that both griefs and joys were intensified to me.
I was too young to think such things; but if I had been older I
should have asked myself very often, "Is this the same _me_ that used
to lie reading for hours, and never left his sofa if he could help
it?" Why, I actually had forgotten to see what became of Rupert
among the Redskins. My four cousins were all so busy making the most
of their holidays that I didn't seem to have time to breathe.
Whatever they did, Edric must at least look on--if he would help, so
much the better; so it ended in my seeing very little of my parents.
Father still persisted in refusing to let the young savages have
meals with him, though I felt sure, from the look he gave them when
he happened to peep in our room, that he was getting to like them;
and I overheard him once say to mother: "Our laddie looks fatter and
brighter; I suppose it's those young scamps' doings. I wish they had
come before."
"I'm sure they have done him good," said mother, heartily; "and they
have done no harm to anyone, in spite of all the mischief you
prophesied."
"Wait and see," said father, grimly. "That young Jack reminds me of
a volcano; it looks quiet enough one minute, but it may swallow you
up the next. If they get through the holidays without an eruption,
I'll give them a sovereign between them when I drive them to
Colchester."
Sudden news from London took father away that very evening, and
hastened the explosion which he had prophesied.
"Now, what shall we do this afternoon?" said Rupert the next day,
when dinner was over and I had been carried by my two faithful
bearers into the den.
"I vote we go fishing," said Jack, proceeding to inspect my fishing
rod and line. "We have been here a fortnight and haven't been
fishing once. What do you say, captain? Shall we be like the monks
who hid in the old water mill, and fish for our dinner? What's the
matter? you look quite glum."
"Of course he does," said Kathleen; "he doesn't wish to be left
alone. I'll stay with you, Edric."
"Why shouldn't he go, too?" suggested Harold. "It's a regular tub of
a boat, rather different from the one we had at Sydney."
"Perhaps your river was rather different from ours," I said,
colouring at the slight cast upon my father's boat. "You forget that
this is a tidal river; there's only a small part of it fit for a boat
at all at low water, and if there's much wind it runs like a
racehorse just past our back-water to the bay."
"All right, captain, we beg your boat's pardon, and as it is so big
we will make good use of it. You shall come out fishing with us,"
said Rupert, marching out of the room as if he considered that his
word was law, instead of mine.
I know I was very naughty, but I had perfect confidence in my two
bearers; and when Kathleen had tried to find mother all over the
house and failed, I let my wishes silence my conscience and said,
"All right, I'll come if you will put me in carefully; but mind, I
don't know anything about boating."
"Oh, Rupert knows enough for all of us. Father says he can manage a
boat as well as he can. Let's get some food out of our cupboard and
start at once."
Our den was always well provided with eatables, so there was no
difficulty on that score, and the dread of being stopped at the last
moment made me hurry them all as much as possible. I was quite
relieved when Rupert appeared with my hat and a plaid.
"We'll take this in case it gets cool. Now, then, Kathleen. Heave
ahoy!"
I was carried down those stairs more rapidly than I had ever been
before. I shut my eyes and bit my lips to avoid showing how
frightened I was. When I looked up I was in the bottom of the boat.
Harold, with loving thoughtfulness, had put in some cushions, and I
felt as comfortable as on my sofa.
"Push her off, Jack." Jack did it skilfully, and sprang in just as
my heart came into my mouth for fear he should fall into the water.
"Hurrah!" they all cried, at the top of their voices, but my cheer
was a feeble one; I had caught sight of something in the bows, and if
there is one thing I have hated all my life it is a gun.
"What have you got that for?" I said to Rupert.
"Always best to have two strings to your bow, captain. If Jack can't
catch any fish, then I'll shoot something; we must have either fish
or fowl for supper to-night."
"Did mother say you might have it?"
Jack made a grimace, and said something about Rupert not being half
as stupid as he looked; but I soon forgot all about the gun in my
enjoyment of the water. Rupert and Harold rowed well together, and
Kathleen steered till we came to the main stream, when Jack put out
his line.
If fish can hear and understand, they certainly must have thought
that there never was a noisier crew come out to look for them. We
laughed till we couldn't laugh any more, and our rowers had to rest
on their oars to recover strength to pull them.
"Just look!" said Jack, suddenly. "There's a tiny footmark. I
should think that fellow wears nineteens."
"Hold hard a minute, and let us trace them," said Rupert, leaning
over the side. "Talk of footprints in the snow, they are not half as
beautiful as footprints in the mud under the river."
He guided the boat skilfully, so that we followed the steps, till
they went up the bank on the side nearest Craigstown.
"The old fellow comes from there, then; I wonder where he goes, and
where he comes from. It's a queer sort of place to choose for an
afternoon walk. Halloa, what's that? Push off quick, Jack, or we
shall stick, and on the wrong side, too."
[Illustration: "HE WAS THROWN TO THE BOTTOM OF THE BOAT."]
Jack sprang up, and put the oar down with a force which sent the boat
out into the current again, but the next instant he fell. He had
overreached himself, the oar stuck, and he was thrown to the bottom
of the boat. There was consternation in every face for a moment.
Rupert was the first to recover himself. "Take that stretcher, Jack,
and see what you can do to help me. You will pull stronger than
Harold. I'll just turn her round and go home."
It was very easy to say, but impossible to do; pull as they would
they could only get the boat half round, so that she was more than
ever in the power of the stream.
I looked at Kathleen anxiously. She was as white as her frock.
"The tide has turned," she cried, "and we are going out to sea."
[Illustration: Chapter IV tailpiece]
[Illustration: Chapter V headpiece]