ON FOX ISLAND
Spring came suddenly that year. They woke up one morning to find the
river flowing warmly blue and free of ice, the walks running with
crystal water and the bricks steaming in the fervid sunshine. Winter had
disappeared over night and Spring had come to its own again. With the
awakening of the new season came the awakening of new interests. The
crew candidates, who for weeks past had been toiling ingloriously at the
rowing machines in the basement of the gymnasium, went trooping down the
path to the river and launched their shells. The baseball candidates who
had been throwing and batting in the cage and sliding to bases over the
hard floor trotted out to the field in search of a dry spot whereon to
hold their first outdoor practice. With the former went Horace Burlen,
free at last, in spite of his enemies' croakings, of all conditions, and
Hadden and Gallup and Whitcomb and Otto Ferris and others. With the
baseball candidates went Chub, Roy, Bacon, Kirby, Post and many more.
And--oh, yes--Sid Welch! Sid had entertained hopes of making the second
crew, but such hopes had been sadly shattered. And as Sid had to be
trying for something to be content he naturally went in for the only
first-class sport left.
"I think," he confided to Chub, "I think I'd like to play shortstop."
"Just as you say, Sid," Chub answered gravely. "All you'll have to do
will be to beat Bacon out for the position. You're sure you wouldn't
rather pitch? Post and Kirby, you know, aren't so much of a muchness but
what you could beat 'em with a little practice."
"Well, anyhow, I don't see why I couldn't be a fielder," answered Sid
good-naturedly. "You'll give me a show, won't you, Chub?"
"Course I will, Sid," answered Chub heartily. "You come along out and
we'll see what you can do. First of all, though, we'll take a little of
that fat off you."
"I've been trying to get rid of it," Sid replied earnestly and sadly,
"but it doesn't seem to do any good. I haven't eaten any bread or potato
or puddin' for days and days!"
"Never mind the bread and potato, Sid," said Chub with a laugh. "I know
a better way."
"What?" asked the other interestedly.
"Chasing flies, my boy!" was the answer.
March was kind to them. It gave them a clear two weeks of fair weather
at the end. To be sure, the wind howled dismally sometimes and it was
often cold enough to make fingers stiff, but it allowed them to stay out
of doors and that was the main thing. April, however, started in meanly.
Ten days of drizzle and wet fields affected even Chub's temper. But
everything, even a spell of rainy weather, must come to an end some
time, and the second week of April brought back sunny skies and mild
days. And after that affairs went briskly on the diamond.
Roy had kept his promise to his chum, a promise made on the occasion of
their first meeting and re-made several times since. For Chub had got it
into his head that Roy had the making of a baseball player and never
allowed him to forget for a moment all winter long that he had agreed to
try for the team.
"You ought to make a good baseman," Chub said once, looking over his
friend with the eye of a connoisseur. "Maybe third--or even first.
You've got height and a good long reach; and you're quick and heady.
Patten's the only fellow I know of who's after first base. He was
substitute last year. He's not bad, but he's not an expert by a long
shot. Just you come out, old man, and see what you can do."
And Roy promised for the twentieth time.
Training table was started the middle of April, with Mr. Cobb in
command. By that time the candidates had been weeded out until there
were but fourteen left. The "culls," as Chub called them, went toward
the making up of the second team. There was practice every afternoon
save Sunday, usually ending with a short game with the second nine, the
latter strengthened by the presence of Mr. Cobb, who played first base
or pitched as occasion required. Roy bought a rule-book early in the
season and studied it diligently, following it up later with an
invaluable blue-covered pamphlet which told him exactly how to play
every position on the team. In the end, however, he discovered that the
best way to learn baseball is to play it.
Chub started him at left-field and kept him there until he had learned
to judge a ball, catch it and field it home. It was hard work, but Roy
liked it. Sometimes, however, he doubted whether he would ever vindicate
Chub's belief in him. There seemed an awful lot to learn and he envied
the ready thought displayed by the fellows who had been playing the game
for several years. I think that Chub would have strained a point to keep
Roy with him as long as it did not endanger the success of the team, for
by this time the two were well-nigh inseparable. But it very soon became
evident that no favoritism was necessary; Roy deserved a place on the
nine by virtue of his ability. By the middle of April he was having a
try at first and two weeks later he had succeeded to the position vice
Patten removed to the outfield.
It didn't take him long to accustom himself to the place and its
requirements. As Chub had said, he had height and reach, was quick and
steady and clear-headed. Of course there was talk; disgruntled fellows
who had failed at making the team sneered at Chub's favoritism, and
Horace found time from his rowing duties to try and stir up discord
amongst the baseball men. But Patten, who had more cause than anyone
else to feel dissatisfied, had nothing to say. He had sense enough to
realize that Chub had given the position to the best man, and enough of
the right sort of spirit to be satisfied, so long as it was for the good
of the team and the school. Patten went out to right-field, stifled his
disappointment and "played ball."
Chub must have been right. Unless he "has it in him" no boy can learn to
play baseball well in three months, as Roy did. Perhaps, though, Mr.
Cobb's coaching deserves more credit than I am giving it. He certainly
worked hard with Roy. And so did Chub. And the other members of the
nine, amongst whom Roy was highly popular, helped, perhaps
unconsciously, to give him self-confidence in the early days of his
novitiate. So, it seems, the Fates worked together to fashion him into a
baseball player much to the regret of Mr. Buckman who had entertained
hopes of securing him for the second four. But although Roy liked the
water well enough and was never more contented than when out with Chub
in the crimson canoe, he was more at home on the turf. Perhaps the first
or second four lost a good oar when Roy chose baseball instead of
rowing; be that as it may, it is certain the nine found a good first
baseman.
April recess began on the twenty-second and lasted nine days, from
Friday afternoon to the second Monday morning, although, as the fellows
were required to be back at School by Sunday noon, eight days come
nearer to the mark than nine. Crew and baseball candidates were supposed
to remain at Ferry Hill during this recess and most of them did so. Roy
was undecided whether to stay or go home. Chub begged him to remain,
putting it to him first on the score of duty to the nine and then citing
the camping-out on Fox Island as an inducement. Roy's mother decided the
matter for him eventually by writing that she was going South for six
weeks. She suggested that Roy join her at a South Carolina winter
resort, but Roy had no desire for a week of hotel existence and so threw
in his lot with Chub, Gallup, Bacon, Post, Kirby and the others. Jack
Rogers went home and so did Sid, who had been working hard on the second
nine and showing quite a little promise. Doctor and Mrs. Emery took a
week's vacation, but Harry was left behind--greatly to her
delight--because her holidays did not come until later. Mr. Cobb, too,
disappeared from the scene and the charge of the school was left in Mr.
Buckman's hands.
Saturday was the first day of the recess and Roy and Chub spent the
morning on the river. They paddled down stream for a mile or more in the
canoe and fished, but with scant success. In the afternoon came baseball
practice which ended with a six-inning game with a Silver Cove team.
Sunday was rather dull for it rained torrents. Chub, Roy, Gallup and
Post donned rubber coats or old sweaters in the afternoon and took a
long tramp inland. But Monday morning dawned bright and fresh and as
soon as breakfast was over the fellows, under Mr. Buckman's direction,
began the overhauling of the camping outfit. The four big tents were
pulled from their quarters in the boat house, spread out on the landing
and gone over for holes or weak places. Then lost pegs were replaced,
new guy-ropes supplied and a broken ridge-pole was mended. Dinner was
rather a hurried meal that day, for every fellow--and there were
twenty-odd left at school--was eager to get into camp. At three o'clock
the tents and outfits were loaded into row boats and transferred to the
island. All afternoon boats went back and forth on errands; baking
powder had been forgotten, Gallup wanted his camera, someone had left
one of the hatchets on the landing, cook had neglected to grind the
coffee before packing it, four more blankets were needed, Mr. Buckman
wanted a roll of adhesive plaster and a bottle of arnica. Meanwhile the
tents were erected, the old cook-stove was set up and fuel gathered. At
five o'clock, Kirby, under Mr. Buckman's tuition, began the preparation
of the first meal. Roy and Chub and half a dozen others built the camp
fire in the open space between the tents, piling up the brush and
slanting the dead limbs above it until the whole looked like an Indian
wigwam. Then came supper; bacon, potatoes, tea, milk and "spider cake,"
the latter an indigestible but delightful concoction of thin flour
batter poured into the frying pan and cooked until nice and soggy.
After supper the camp-fire was lighted, the fellows spread themselves
out on the ground about it and the camp went into executive session.
Chub was elected Little Chief--Mr. Buckman was Big Chief--and Roy became
Medicine Man. Then four Chiefs of Tribe were elected and the honors fell
to Roy, Horace Burlen, Kirby and Pryor. These, in turn, selected their
warriors and were assigned to tents--or tepees, as they preferred to
call them. Roy chose Chub, Gallup, Bacon and Post; Burlen selected
Ferris, Hadden, Whitcomb and Walker; Kirby and Pryor made up their
households of what material was left, each having five instead of six
companions as there were twenty-two boys in the party. Mr. Buckman cast
his lot with Burlen's Utes. Roy's tribe was christened Seminole, Kirby's
Ojibway and Pryor ruled despotically over the Navajos. Mr. Buckman
explained the camp rules. There weren't many of them, but they were
strict. The Chiefs of Tribes could grant permission to leave the island
but were required to report the names of those leaving to the Big Chief.
Every tribe must delegate one of its warriors each day to be fisherman;
fishermen must fish not less than two hours and turn their catch over to
the Little Chief. Every warrior or Chief must strip his bed before
breakfast and hang his blankets in the sun. Each tribe must select a
member to be cook and take his turn at preparing the meals; also an
assistant whose duty it was to help and wash up the utensils. Prompt
attendance at meals was imperative. Offenses would be judged by a
council composed of the Big and Little Chiefs, the Medicine Man and the
four Tribal Chiefs and punishment would be meted out by them. In the
absence of the Big Chief the Little Chief took command; in the absence
of both authority was vested in the Medicine Man.
At nine o'clock the fellows sought their quarters and made their beds,
for which purpose plenty of pine and hemlock boughs had been cut and
piled in the clearing. Each tent was supplied with a lantern which swung
from the ridge-pole. A rustic bench held a half-dozen tin wash-basins
and a looking-glass was hung from a tree nearby. By half-past nine
preparations for the night were complete and the boys gathered again
about the dying fire and, kneeling, recited the Lord's Prayer. Then
good-nights were said and the Tribes separated. For some time the sound
of laughter was heard. Then quiet fell over Fox Island and a big moon,
coming up over the tree tops, threw the four tents into dazzling
whiteness and paled the glow of the dying embers where the camp fire had
been.
[Illustration: "Quiet fell over Fox Island"]