CHAPTER IX.
The Dido’s First Fishing Trip.
JIM PAUL’S warning made an impression on Reube’s mind. When WillCarter heard of it he exclaimed:
“That fits in with my own ideas exactly, Reube! There’s some alienstreak in that Gandy’s blood that makes him more likely to knife you inthe back than fight you to your face; and that being a kind of enemy youdon’t understand, you’ve got to be all the more careful, old man.”
“Well,” said Reube, thoughtfully, “what is one to do about it anyway?”
“Why, look sharp for a chance to get the scoundrel locked up, even ifhis family does need him,” answered Will. “And, meanwhile, keep youreyes open after dark, and take no chances. Carry a good heavy stick,too.”
“All right!” laughed Reube. “But I think these hands of mine are goodenough for Mart, any day.”
That night proving fine with a fair, light wind down the bay, Reube andWill took the _Dido_ out for her first drift. In the cuddy were stowedsome extra clothes in case of a cold bay fog rolling up, and severalthick blankets, and enough bread and meat and cold tea for a couple ofdays in case the trip should be unexpectedly prolonged. Will insistedalso on a generous sheet of Mrs. Dare’s gingerbread and a brown stonejug of lime-juice ready mixed. He had a care for material comforts. Butas for Reube, he was in such a state of exalted excitement that he couldthink of nothing but shad and the _Dido_.
Will was an excellent shot—famous, indeed, all about that region forhis habit of going partridge shooting with a little rifle instead of theorthodox shotgun. He now took his beloved little rifle with him in thehope of bagging some rare specimen of gull or hawk. He little dreamedthat he might turn out to be hunted instead of hunter on that trip.
By the time all preparations were complete, and the brown nets, beadedwith wooden floats and leaden sinkers, unwound from the reel and neatlycoiled in the _Dido’s_ stern, and the great half hogshead amidshipsfilled with water to serve as ballast, the rest of the shad fleet weredropping one by one out of the creek. Like great pale moths their sailsfloated over the marsh, following the windings of the creek, andvanishing into the silvery night. The _Dido_ followed with Reube at thehelm. She sailed swiftly and soon overtook her slower rivals. Only thelittle red-and-white pinkie preserved her distance, and Reube had toacknowledge, reluctantly, that she was as speedy as the _Dido_. When thefleet reached the open every boat headed down the bay, at the same timediverging from its neighbor. The object of this latter movement was toget the utmost possible room for the nets; of the former to get as fardown the bay as possible before turning with the tide to drift back. Thefishing was all done on this backward drift.
The _Dido_ gradually lost sight of all her rivals but the pinkie, whichhovered, a faint white speck, far to starboard. The five hours’ sailbrought our young shad fishers past Cape Chignecto, and into widerwaters. It was rough off the cape after the turn of tide, and the _Dido_pitched heavily in the steep yellow waves. Neither Reube nor Will hadever before been so far down the bay, and in their curiosity over acertain strange formation of the cliffs they sailed somewhat close tothe shore.
Will, from his place on the cuddy, was expatiating learnedly on thedistorted strata before them, when suddenly he broke off in the midst ofa word, and yelled:
“A reef right ahead! Bring her about, quick!”
But Reube had seen the danger at the same instant. With one hand hejammed the helm hard down, and with the other loosed the main sheet, atthe same time shouting to Will:
“Let go the jib!”
Will sprang to obey. But the stiff new rope, pulled taut during the longrun and shrunken hard by the spray, would not yield at once even to hisstrong fingers. It had got jammed fast in some way. Meanwhile the_Dido_, broadside on and beaten mightily by the waves, was heeling as ifshe would turn over in the trough. The jib pulled terrifically, and thewater hissed above the cleaving gunwale.
“Quick! Quick!” yelled Reube; and Will, snatching his knife from hisbelt, severed the rope at a slash and released the sail. Gracefully the_Dido_ swung up, righted herself, and bowed on an even keel.
“That was something of a close shave,” remarked Reube.
“It was,” said Will, studying with angry eyes the rope which had baffledhim.
After this they took a long tack which brought them once more intosmoother waters above the cape. As the sun got higher the wind felllighter, and at length Reube announced that it was time to get out thenet. The mainsail was hauled down, and under a close-reefed jib the_Dido_ lay to while the net was slowly and carefully paid out over thestern. The helm was so delicately manipulated that the floating net wasnot allowed to bunch, but formed its line of blocks into a wide, shallowcrescent with the _Dido_ at one horn. This accomplished, the remainingbit of canvas was furled and the long, slow process of “drifting” wasfairly begun. The tide ran fast, and the shores a half mile distantslipped smoothly by. The rudder swung loose while Will and Reube atetheir breakfast, and congratulated themselves on the sailing qualitiesof the _Dido_. After breakfast they basked in the sweet June sun, toldstories, wondered idly if the net was capturing anything, grew sleepy,and at last began to get impatient. A great gray gull flew over, andWill raised his rifle. But he lowered it instantly.
“I was on the point of dropping that poor old grayback,” said he,penitently, “just for lack of something better to do.”
“I wondered why you were going to shoot it,” said Reube, “when I knew itwas no good as a specimen.”
“I say,” exclaimed Will, a few minutes later, yawning, “this sun’sgetting mighty hot! How long have we been drifting?”
“A little over two hours,” replied Reube.
“How long is one expected to drift?” asked Will.
“O, say four, or maybe five,” was the reply.
“Well, as this is just a sort of trial trip and picnic,” suggested Will,“I move we haul in the net and count our fish. Then we can sail roundyonder point to a big creek I know of with a fine, shelving sand spit atits mouth. The sand is covered at high water; but about the time we getthere it will be just right for you to go in swimming from. A swim willgo fine this hot day, eh?”
“All right!” assented Reube. He was himself consumed with impatience tosee what was in the net.
As the first two oars’ lengths came over the side there was nothing, andthe fishermen’s faces fell. Then came the shining, silvery sides of adozen shad, and they grew exultant. Then a small salmon, and theychuckled. Then two or three large jellyfish slipped through the meshesin fragments. And then the shad really began. It was a noble haul, andexcitement ran high in the _Dido_. The huge tub amidships was nearlyhalf full of the gleaming spoils by the time the last fathom of net cameover the side; and there was also another and larger salmon to show. Thewater in the tub was thrown overboard, as the shad made sufficientballast.
“If the _Dido_ keeps it up like this she’ll be as good as your dikedmarsh,” cried Reube, gloating over his prizes.
“Right you are!” said Will, heartily, washing his hands with vigor overthe side. “And now for that swim. We’ve earned it, and we need it.”
Forthwith the sails were got up, and the _Dido_ made all haste for theswimming place which Will had indicated. She rounded the point, skirtedthe shore for nearly a mile, ran into the creek’s mouth, and droppedanchor beside the tempting yellow sand spit.
Then came the shining, silvery sides of a dozen shad.]
Reube Dare's Shad Boat: A Tale of the Tide Country Page 9
