JOCK HAS HIS TURN.
There was a commotion on board which seemed to threaten the safety of
all. The huge fish was throwing himself from side to side, but Ethan
was equal to the emergency, and with his merciful hickory club soon
put an end to the struggle.
"Whe-e-w!" exclaimed Jock, in delight. "Isn't he a beauty!"
"That depends," said Ethan, laconically. "I don't believe that chub
thought he was specially pretty, when he saw this fellow get after
him."
"He seems to have a remarkably open countenance," drawled Bob, as he
pried open the great mouth with the end of his rod.
"'Tis something of a mouth the pickerel has, for a fact," said Ethan.
"D'ye see how the teeth are all set the wrong way?"
The two boys eagerly examined their prize. The mottled sides still
glistened and the beautiful markings were all clear; but the mouth,
as the boatman had said, was enough to strike terror to all fishes of
lesser degree.
"Not much chance for a chub if that trap once shuts to on him," said
Ethan. "If he tries to back out, he only drives the teeth in farther."
"How much will he weigh, Ethan?" inquired Jock.
"Oh, seven or eight pounds. It's a pretty fair pickerel."
Jock was disappointed. To him it had seemed as if the pickerel must
have weighed much more than that. His disappointment was still further
increased when Ethan added, "They ain't much good for eatin'. Oh, ye
can eat 'em if ye want to, an' some folks like 'em first-rate, but
give me a bass every time."
"That's the reason I caught bass," drawled Bob. "It's a shame to pull
out a pickerel when you don't want him."
"Pity about you," laughed Jock. "I don't care about fooling with
little bass that aren't big enough to leave their mothers. When I
catch a fish I want to get one large enough to know what he's doing.
Hello," he suddenly added, "there comes the other boat. I wonder what
luck they've had."
The other skiff was now swiftly approaching, as Jock had said, and in
a few minutes it came alongside. Long before it was near enough for
his voice to be heard, Jock exultingly held up to view the immense
fish he had captured, and when his friends came closer, great was
their astonishment and many their words of praise.
"We'll go ashore for dinner now," said Ethan, after the prize had been
examined. "Ye're ready to stop a bit, aren't ye?"
"We are," shouted the boys together; and side by side the two skiffs
moved toward the shore.
Before the boys landed they discovered that near the place to which
evidently Ethan was going were the ruins of some building which
plainly had been a large one. The boatman explained that a hotel had
stood there at one time, but it had been burned, and never had been
rebuilt.
As the boys leaped ashore they all eagerly examined the catch which
Tom's boat had made. There were several bass and a fish which strongly
resembled the pickerel which Jock had caught, though it was much
smaller.
"They've got a pickerel, too," said Jock, as he discovered the fish.
"That isn't any pickerel," remarked Tom.
"What is it, then? It looks just like one," said Jock.
"It's a muscalonge. It's a little fellow, and the first one I've seen
this year."
"Ye ought not to have saved him, Tom," remonstrated Ethan. "If you'd
let him go, he might 'a' growed big enough to amount to somethin'."
"I thought of it, but I didn't know what luck you were having, and I
knew we'd want some fish for dinner, so I let him stay."
"If they're beginnin' to run, mebbe we'll strike one some day that's
o' decent size. Jock, if ye ever get a muscalonge what weighs forty
pound on the end o' yer line, ye'll find out that catchin' pickerel's
boys' play alongside o' it."
"Do you really think we'll get one?" said Jock, eagerly.
"Can't tell. Like enough ye will, an' jest as likely ye won't. Out
with ye now, the whole kit and posse o' ye," he added, and the boys
turned toward the grove of maples which grew near the shore.
"This is what I call great fun!" exclaimed Ben, as he threw his long
body on the grass. "I think I could almost make up poetry if I was to
stay here long enough."
"Your face looks as if it was burning with poetic fire," drawled Bob.
"It can't look worse than yours," replied Ben, as he placed his hands
on his cheeks.
Indeed, all four of the boys presented a similar appearance, for the
effect of the rays of the sun reflected from the water had made all
their faces of a decidedly brilliant hue. Jock tried to comfort them
by explaining that that was what was to be expected, and that more
marked results than these were likely to be attained before their stay
in camp was over. But for the present the boys were content as they
lay beneath the grateful shade of the spreading maples. In the
distance was the glorious St. Lawrence, and an occasional whistle
indicated that yachts were speeding over its course, or that the river
boats were passing. Other skiffs had now entered Goose Bay, and as
they moved slowly over the shoals or anchored near the "weeds," it
became evident that its waters were well known before the coming of
our boys.
It was now noon time, and the leaves upon the trees were hardly moved
by a breeze; out on the bay the sun was beating, and the quivering
motions of the air under the influence of the summer heat could be
distinctly seen. In the distance the calls of the crows could be
heard, but otherwise the quiet of the day was unbroken. On every side
was the solitude, and as one of the boys expressed it, 'they could
almost hear the silence.'
Yet the impression produced by it all was as strong as it was novel.
The struggle for existence, the life of the city, the rumble and
indefinable roar of the town, were all forgotten for the time. Here,
at least, was peace, and the reluctance of Ethan to leave his home by
the great river, or depart from the comradeship of the St. Lawrence,
could be readily understood. All four of the boys felt the influence
of the scene, and after a few minutes the laughter and conversation
ceased, and the young fishermen were as silent as the silent trees
above them.
Their revery was soon interrupted by the call of Ethan for them to
come to dinner, and with a shout the boys leaped to their feet and ran
to the place where the dinner had been prepared. The sight which met
their eyes was one which might have done even an epicure good. Both
the fishermen had been busy, and the results of their labors were now
manifest. A fire had been kindled near the shore, and over it had been
placed a contrivance with which nearly every fisherman on the St.
Lawrence was provided. A frying-pan and pot had been used, in the
former of which small pieces of salt pork and some of the recently
caught fish had been cooked, and in the latter were green corn and
potatoes. Coffee, also, had been made, and when the boys seated
themselves upon the bank they perceived that Ethan had brought other
dainties from his home. Huge "doughnuts," and cookies of ample size,
as well as pickles and various other dainties, were there. A large can
filled with milk was also placed upon the improvised table, and
altogether the "spread," as Bert termed it, was most inviting.
"Where did you get all these things?" exclaimed the delighted Bob.
"Brought 'em with me in the skiff."
"Is that what you do, every day you go fishing?"
"'Most always, when I take out city folks. I think they like the
dinner we cook about as well as they do the fishin' itself. 'Long
about noon time we usually land and cook the dinner. Every boat has a
lay-out somethin' like ours, though I don't say every one is as good
as this," he continued, with pardonable pride.
"I should say not," replied Ben, as the boys all fell to with a will.
For a time scarcely a word was spoken, so busy were they all in the
occupation upon which they were engaged. Ethan still remained by the
fire, and from time to time brought pieces of the sputtering pork,
which somehow seemed to disappear almost as rapidly as they came.
"What kind of meat did you say this is?" inquired Bob, as distinctly
as one could pronounce the words when his mouth was filled with the
article in question, and at the same time leaning forward to make sure
that the last piece on the plate should not be wasted.
"Salt pork."
"I never tasted of it before."
"Go 'long," said Ethan, incredulously. "Ye don't really mean it, do
ye?"
"Yes, I do mean it," replied Bob. "It's my first experience; and my
only hope is that it won't be my last."
"If you don't stop before long it'll be your last, I'm sure,"
interrupted Ben, himself as deeply engrossed in the occupation as was
Bob.
"Well," said Ethan, "I wouldn't 'a' believed that ye never eat any
fried salt pork afore. Why, everybody eats it."
"I don't wonder," murmured Bob, as he dexterously flung a corn-cob,
which had now served its full duty, at a tree in the distance.
"I'm afraid Ethan doesn't think we know much," said Jock. "He's been
telling us this morning about the greenness of city people when
they're in the country. I'm inclined to think he's right, too."
"Well, they be green," protested Ethan, sturdily. "I had a young
fellow from Bosting up here last year, what I rowed for, an' if ye
believe me, he didn't actually know how many teeth a cow had on her
upper jaw. No, sir, he didn't for a fact; an' he was in college, too.
Mebbe ye don't believe me, but it's true as yer life, what I'm tellin'
ye."
There was a twinkle in Ethan's eyes as he spoke, which was not lost
upon our boys, who were looking somewhat foolishly at one another.
Perhaps they were fearful that the question would be brought home to
them.
Their anxiety was relieved when Jock spoke up quickly, and said, "Tell
us, Ethan. How many teeth does a cow have on her upper jaw? I don't
know; I don't, for a fact."
"Thank you! You have expressed my feelings exactly," said Bert, partly
rising from his seat, and bowing in mock honor at Jock.
"She has all she needs, I'm thinkin'," said Ethan. "If ye don't know,
I shan't tell ye. I understand all four o' you boys are goin' to
college, an' when ye get there I'm thinkin' some o' those Latin or
Greek books'll tell ye all about it."
At last the dinner apparently was finished, and with a sigh Bob rose
from his seat.
"This has been a great treat, Ethan," he said. "If Delmonico or the
Waldorf-Astoria can do better, I've yet to learn it."
"There's one thing they can't furnish," said Ethan.
"What's that?"
"The appetite. It takes this river and the air to furnish that."
"That's so; though I hadn't thought of it."
"Hold on," said Ethan, quickly. "We aren't done yet. Tom, you go down
to my skiff an' bring up those pies an' things in the box under the
back seat. Be quick, lad, or the appetite'll get away from these
boys."
"Poison things? What do you mean, Ethan?" laughed Bob. "Aren't you
satisfied with feeding us in this way? Don't you want the trouble of
rowing us back to camp?"
"I didn't say nothin' about 'poison things,'" replied Ethan, gruffly.
"I was talkin' about pies. Ye know what pie is, don't ye?"
"I do that," replied Bob. "It's something I have never had enough of
yet."
"I should think ye ought to get enough, if ye have it three times a
day."
"Three times a day! I never have it but once, and then in small
doses."
"Sho! I know better. All folks always have it reg'lar three times a
day. Why, I shouldn't feel as if I'd had my breakfast if I hadn't had
a piece o' pie and a doughnut along with it."
"Ethan," said Bob, soberly, "do you take summer boarders at your
house?"
"No, I don't. We did take some one time, but we'll never do it again."
"Why not?"
"Why, do you know," said Ethan, in a low voice, as if he was imparting
a secret, "some o' those folks bothered us dreadful. Yes, sir; they
did, for a fact. There was one o' the men we couldn't get eout o' bed
before six o'clock in the mornin'. What d'ye think o' that? Yes, sir,
he'd actually lie in bed till six o'clock in the mornin'! But we must
get out o' this if we're to do any more fishin' to-day. Come, Tom,
help me clear away these dishes."
That task was speedily accomplished, and then the sport was resumed. A
fair degree of success attended their efforts, and as the sun began to
sink low in the western sky, Goose Bay was abandoned for the time
being, and the two skiffs were headed for the camp on Pine Tree
Island.