WHAT BECAME OF THE PRIZE.
"You act as if you had caught something you want us to see," said Ben,
as he ran before his companions. "Let's see your fish."
The muscallonge had not been placed with the other fish, and as Ben
glanced down at the row which had been spread in order on the grass,
he therefore did not see the prize of which his friends were so justly
proud.
"You did well, but we've beaten you!" he exclaimed, as Bert and Hank
McBride now came up to view the victims.
"That's pooty good," remarked the elder boatman. "You've done very
well for beginners. George is improving every day, and it won't be
long afore he'll do 'most as well as men of experience," he added
complacently.
George made no response except to wink soberly at Bob, and then
turned with the boys to examine the catch which Hank's party had made.
They certainly had been very successful, and as the fish were taken
from the box and placed in a row upon the grass, both Jock and Bob
were loud in their words of praise. Several large pike served to
increase the effect, and when at last all the fish had been seen, it
was perceived that in numbers and weight Hank's party had exceeded
that of the other.
"Come into the house, boys, and get some milk," called George. "You
must be hungry by this time."
Before entering, the boys all went to the barrel, which stood beneath
a corner of the eaves, and dipping from the rain-water stored there,
washed their faces in the tin basin. Refreshed by the act, they then
all followed the boatman, and seated themselves before the table, on
which the housewife had placed a large pitcher of milk and several
earthen cups.
The milk speedily disappeared, and the pitcher was again filled before
the boys rose from their seats.
"How much shall we pay you for the milk?" inquired Jock, as he turned
to go out into the yard again.
"I don' know," replied the woman, hesitatingly. "I don' know jest what
it is worth."
"It's been worth a good deal to us," said Jock, feeling in his pocket
for a coin as he spoke. "We want to pay you whatever you say."
"I don' know jest what it is worth," repeated the woman. "Do ye think
five cents would be too much?"
"Hardly," laughed Jock, as he handed the hostess a quarter.
"I don't think I've got any change," said the woman, reluctantly.
"Change? There isn't any change."
"Do ye mean to say ye're goin' to give me all this money for that
milk?"
"Why, yes. It was good milk, and we haven't been modest in using it."
"It's too much to charge!" she said decidedly. "I can't take so much."
Perceiving that she was in earnest, Jock did not press the matter, and
finally compromised by inducing her to accept fifteen cents. Then as
he hastened to rejoin his companions, who now were waiting for him in
the yard, and perceiving that the muscallonge had not yet been shown
them, he said, eagerly,--
"Come over here, fellows; I want to show you something. You come, too,
Hank," he added; and in a moment he led the way to the place where the
monstrous fish had been covered with grass.
As he removed the covering and the great head of the muscallonge was
seen, Ben exclaimed in astonishment, "What! What's that?"
"That," replied Jock, gently, "is our prize fish, or rather it's
Bob's, for he caught it out here in this bay."
"Is it a muscallonge?" inquired Bert.
"That's what George calls it, I believe. I'm not very familiar with
the names of the fish hereabouts, but that'll do as well as any other,
I fancy."
For a moment the boys all crowded about the place, eagerly examining
the prize, and making many comments in their enthusiasm. Hank,
however, had not spoken, and after his first glimpse of the great
fish, turned away his head and pretended to be gazing out over the
near-by St. Lawrence. George, too, affected an air of indifference,
which he was far from feeling, and which an occasional keen glance
at his rival boatman betrayed.
[Illustration: "Did you ever catch a bigger one?"--_Page 303._]
"I say, Hank," called Bob, "did you ever see a bigger fish than that
caught here?"
"Lots o' times," responded the boatman, coldly.
"Did you ever catch a bigger one?" persisted Bob, evidently enjoying
the jealous rage of the elder boatman.
"Ho! Lots of times. And when I catch 'em, I catch 'em, too!" he added
meaningly.
"That's what we do, too," said Bob. "When we catch 'em, we catch 'em."
"Ye never caught that ere fish," retorted Hank, disdainfully.
"We didn't! How did he get here, then?" demanded Jock, quickly.
"Oh, fish is cheap over in Cornwall," replied Hank, with a peculiar
smile. "When I see ye headed that way, I knew ye weren't goin' for
nothin'."
"Do you mean to say we _bought_ that fish?" demanded Jock, aghast.
"I'm not makin' no insinuations," said Hank. "But I knows what I
know."
The boatman's suggestion seemed to afford intense delight to Ben and
Bert, and though they joined at once in the banter, it was evident
they did not share in the suspicions of Hank McBride.
"Did you ever hear about the fox who wouldn't be hired to eat the sour
grapes?" said George, turning to the boys, and striving to ignore the
presence of his rival.
"I believe I have heard that story somewhere," replied Jock. "Did you
ever hear it, Hank?" he added, turning to the envious boatman.
"I knows what I know," retorted Hank, adopting a line of argument
which is not confined to the region of the St. Lawrence.
"You'd better be starting, boys," interrupted George. "You've got a
long drive before you, and you'll be too late to get any supper at the
hotel if you stay around here any longer, wasting your time and words
too."
The suggestion was at once acted upon. The fish were stored in the
carriage which was to convey the boys back to the hotel, and after
they had assisted the boatmen in lifting their skiffs from the water
and placing them upon the frame wagons which had been sent down to
carry the boats to the place from which they had started in the early
morning, they all clambered into their seats and were ready to depart.
"Hold on a minute," called George, as he ran quickly toward them.
"Who's going to drive you back to the Landing to-morrow morning?"
"I don't know. We'll find some one," replied Jock.
"If ye don't mind I'd like to do it myself. I've got a good team and a
pretty fair wagon, and I won't charge you any more than you'd pay any
one else. I'll come over for you about eight o'clock, if you say so."
"All right, George," said Jock. "We'll be glad to have you. We'll call
it settled, then, and you are to come for us to-morrow morning at
eight."
"That's the way to do it," said Ben. "Don't you let these fellows have
any chance to explain how they got the muscallonge when you aren't
near to put in a word."
George made no reply, and the boys at once started.
"There'll be a pitched battle between those men before they get home,"
said Bert.
"Oh, no, the' won't," said the driver; "it's just the way with them.
They're as jealous of one another as all possessed, but they're good
friends, too. But I guess Hank McBride won't put on quite so many airs
as he's been doin' of late. He's a notion he's the only fellow that
can take out a party hereabouts."
About an hour and a half later the boys drove up in front of their
hotel, and, leaving their driver to look after their fish, ran up to
their rooms, and speedily prepared for the dinner which was ready for
them.
When they at last came out of the dining room and appeared on the
piazza, they beheld a small crowd assembled about a spot on the lawn.
When they joined the group, they discovered that their fish were the
objects which had drawn the spectators. Many were the exclamations of
astonishment at the number and size of the victims, and when at last
the people departed, the boys were left to themselves.
What to do with their catch then became the question. They had talked
of packing the muscallonge in ice and forwarding it to their parents
in New York, but the intense heat and the thought of possible delays
had seemed to make that impracticable. They had finally decided to
give them all to the proprietor of the hotel, and had just turned to
enter the office to inform the clerk of their decision, when a man
approached and accosted Jock.
To the lad's surprise he recognized him as a friend of his father's,
and, after introducing him to his friends, the man expressed a desire
that the huge muscallonge should be given to him if the boys had no
other plan of disposing of it; and, wondering at his urgency, and
aware that the remainder of their catch would be ample for all the
immediate wants of the hotel, they readily consented.
It was some three weeks afterward when they learned that the man to
whom they had presented their prize had first had a photograph of
himself and his two boys taken with fishing-rods in their hands, and
the monstrous fish in the foreground, and had then shipped the fish to
the editor of the local paper of the village in which his home was. A
marked copy of this paper had been sent the boys, in which they read a
long account of the struggle this man and his boys had in catching the
muscallonge, and how, at last, success had crowned their efforts, and
in their generosity they had sent their prize, "which weighed some
sixty pounds," to the editor himself. Great are the ways of fishermen,
and marvellous the increase in weight which some fish attain after
they have been drawn from their native waters! All that, however, is
an outside matter, and as our boys did not learn of the various uses
to which their prize was assigned until weeks had passed, it has no
legitimate part in the records of this story.
Promptly at the appointed hour on the following morning George
appeared before the hotel, and the boys took their seats in his wagon
to be carried back to the Landing. It was evident that George was in
no wise downcast over the envious charges of his rival boatman on the
preceding day, and as they rode on he explained to them many of the
points of interest in the region.
As there was an abundance of time before the departure of their boat
for Ogdensburgh, they were all eager to examine the places he
described, and as he had dwelt particularly upon the attractions of a
neighboring cemetery,--"graveyard," George called it,--they consented
to stop and visit it.
It was a quaint little spot, and its humble headstones indicated that
the great cloud which hangs low over all mankind was not wanting even
in the healthful region of the great river. But what had been of
peculiar interest to George was the inscription on some of the
headstones, and as he pointed out one after another, his companions
were soon as interested as he.
"Hold on, fellows," said Bob, taking out a note-book and pencil as he
spoke; "I must have this one."
The boys waited while Bob made an exact copy of the epitaph, and this
is what he found:--
"Jimmie Dooley is my name, Ireland
is my nation, Brasher is my dwelling
place and heaven my expectation.
When I am dead and in my grave
and all my bones is rotten, this stone
will tell my name when I am
quite forgotten."
"Got it all, Bob?" inquired Ben, soberly.
"Yes."
"Verbatim?"
"Yes."
"Literatim?"
"Yes."
"Punctuatim?"
"Yes."
"Spellatim?"
"I think so" laughed Bob. "Why? What makes you so particular?"
"I can't stand it any longer. It's too pathetic for me."
"I suppose the folks here feel just the same as they do in the city,"
said George, curtly. "I didn't bring you here to have you poke fun."
"I'm not poking fun," said Ben, soberly; "but the exquisite pathos of
that poem is too much for my tender feelings. Poor Jimmie! I don't
wonder he's dead. Do you know the poet, the author of those touching,
plaintive lines?"
As the boys broke into a laugh, George turned abruptly away and took
his seat in the carriage, an example his companions speedily followed.
When they arrived at the Landing they discovered that there were yet
two hours before the little steamer would depart, and in response to
George's suggestion, for his good nature seemed to be restored now,
they accepted his invitation and went with him to view some "sturgeon
pounds."
These pounds were pens in the water, near the shore, in which the boys
discovered some fish which even put their great muscallonge to shame.
These fish were caught, they learned, from a slender pier or framework
built out into the rapids. There, men, equipped with long poles, each
of which had a hook on the end much like the gaff George had used on
the preceding day, took their stand, and as the mighty sturgeon slowly
forced their way up the stream and against the current, they were seen
by the waiting fishermen, and "hooked." They were then thrown alive
into the pens and kept, with others, until a sufficient number had
been obtained, when they were all shipped to Montreal.
Interested as the boys were in the sight, they did not long remain
there, and soon after their return to the Landing went on board the
steamer, and were ready to depart. Bidding George good-by, and
thanking him once more for all the assistance and pleasure he had
given them, they were eager, when the boat left the dock, to return to
the camp on Pine Tree Island, for which they had now come to cherish
almost a feeling of home.