Part 2 (1/2)

And so it proved. The Champion began to gain--it was very slowly, but still she did gain--and when the Speedwell had accomplished half the distance across the river, their pursuers were not more than three or four rods behind.

At length they reached the island, and, as they rounded the point, they came to a spot where the wind was broken by the trees. The Speedwell gradually slackened her headway, and the Champion, which could sail much faster than she before a light breeze, gained rapidly, and soon came alongside.

”There is only one fault with your boat, Frank,” said William; ”her sails are too small. She can carry twice as much canvas as you have got on her now.”

”Yes,” answered Frank, ”I find that I have made a mistake; but the fact is, I did not know how she would behave, and was afraid she would capsize. My first hard work shall be to make some new sails.”

”You showed us a clean pair of heels, any way,” said Ben. Lake, clambering over into the Speedwell. ”Why, how nice and handy every thing is! Every rope is just where you can lay your hand on it.”

”Let's go ash.o.r.e and see how we are off for a crop of strawberries,”

said Harry.

William had pulled down his sails when he came alongside, and while the conversation was going on the Speedwell had been towing the Champion toward the island, and, just as Harry spoke, their bows ran high upon the sand. The boys sprang out, and spent two hours in roaming over the island in search of strawberries; but it was a little too early in the season for them, and, although there were ”oceans” of green ones, they gathered hardly a pint of ripe ones.

After they had eaten the refreshments which Frank had brought with him, they started for home. As the wind blew from the main sh.o.r.e, they were obliged to ”tack,” and the Speedwell again showed some fine sailing, and when the Champion entered the creek, she was not a stone's throw behind.

Frank reached home that night a good deal elated at his success. After tying the Speedwell to the wharf, he pulled down the sails and carried them into his shop. He had promised, before leaving George and Harry, to meet them at five o'clock the next morning to start on a fis.h.i.+ng excursion, and, consequently, could do nothing toward the new sails for his boat for two days.

CHAPTER V.

A Fis.h.i.+ng Excursion.

Precisely at the time agreed upon, Frank might have been seen sitting on the wharf in front of Mr. Butler's house. In his hand he carried a stout, jointed fish-pole, neatly stowed away in a strong bag of drilling, and under his left arm hung his fish-basket, suspended by a broad belt, which crossed his breast. In this he carried his hooks, reels, trolling-lines, dinner, and other things necessary for the trip. Brave stood quietly by his side, patiently waiting for the word to start. They were not obliged to wait long, for hasty steps sounded on the gravel walk that led up to the house, the gate swung open, and George and Harry appeared, their arms filled with their fis.h.i.+ng-tackle.

”You're on time, I see,” said Harry, as he climbed down into a large skiff that was tied to the wharf, ”Give us your fish-pole.”

Frank accordingly handed his pole and basket down to Harry, who stowed them away in the boat. He and George then went into the boat-house, and one brought out a pair of oars and a sail, which they intended to use if the wind should be fair, and the other carried two pails of minnows, which had been caught the night before, to serve as bait.

They then got into the boat, and Frank took one oar and Harry the other, and Brave stationed himself at his usual place in the bow.

George took the helm, and they began to move swiftly down the creek toward the river. About a quarter of a mile below the mouth of the creek was a place, covering half an acre, where the water was about four feet deep, and the bottom was covered with smooth, flat stones.

This was known as the ”black-ba.s.s ground,” and large numbers of these fish were caught there every season. George turned the boat's head toward this place, and, thrusting his hand into his pocket, drew out a ”trolling-line,” and, dropping the hook into the water behind the boat, began to unwind the line. The trolling-hook (such as is generally used in fis.h.i.+ng for black-ba.s.s) can be used only in a strong current, or when the boat is in rapid motion through the water. The hook is concealed by feathers or a strip of red flannel, and a piece of s.h.i.+ning metal in the shape of a spoon-bowl is fastened to it in such a manner as to revolve around it when the hook is drawn rapidly through the water. This is fastened to the end of a long, stout line, and trailed over the stern of the boat, whose motion keeps it near the surface. It can be seen for a great distance in the water, and the fish, mistaking it for their prey, dart forward and seize it.

A few moments' pulling brought them to the ba.s.s ground, and George, holding the stick on which the line had been wound in his hand, waited impatiently for a ”bite.” They had hardly entered the ground when several heavy pulls at the line announced that the bait had been taken. George jerked in return, and, springing to his feet, commenced hauling in the line hand over hand, while whatever was at the other end jerked and pulled in a way that showed that he was unwilling to approach the surface. The boys ceased rowing, and Frank exclaimed,

”You've got a big one there, George. Don't give him any slack, or you'll lose him.”

”Haul in lively,” chimed in Harry. ”There he breaches!” he continued, as the fish--a fine ba.s.s, weighing, as near as they could guess, six pounds--leaped entirely out of the water in his mad efforts to escape.

”I tell you he's a beauty.”

Frank took up the ”dip-net,” which the boys had used in catching the minnows, and, standing by George's side, waited for him to bring the fish within reach, so that he might a.s.sist in ”landing” him. The struggle was exciting, but short. The ba.s.s was very soon exhausted, and George drew him alongside the boat, in which he was soon safely deposited under one of the seats.

They rowed around the ground for half an hour, each taking his turn at the line, and during that time they captured a dozen fish. The ba.s.s then began to stop biting; and Frank, who was at the helm, turned the boat toward the ”perch-bed,” which was some distance further down the river. It was situated at the outer edge of a bank of weeds, which lined the river on both sides. The weeds sprouted from the bottom in the spring, and by fall they reached the hight of four or five feet above the surface of the water. They were then literally swarming with wild ducks; but at the time of which we write, as it was only the latter part of June, they had not yet appeared above the water. The perch-bed was soon reached, and Harry, who was pulling the bow-oar, rose to his feet, and, raising the anchor, which was a large stone fastened to the boat by a long, stout rope, lifted it over the side, and let it down carefully into the water. The boat swung around until her bow pointed up stream, and the boys found themselves in the right spot to enjoy a good day's sport.

Frank, who was always foremost in such matters, had his pole rigged in a trice, and, baiting his hook with one of the minnows, dropped it into the water just outside of the weeds. Half a dozen hungry perch instantly rose to the surface, and one of them, weighing nearly a pound, seized the bait and darted off with it, and the next moment was dangling through the air toward the boat.

”That's a good-sized fish,” said Harry, as he fastened his reel on his pole.

”Yes,” answered Frank, taking his prize off the hook and throwing it into the boat; ”and we shall have fine sport for a little while.”