Camping on the St. Lawrence; Or, On the Trail of the Early Discoverers

by Quincy Allen

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  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 Benglanced 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 justlyproud.

  "You did well, but we've beaten you!" he exclaimed, as Bert and HankMcBride now came up to view the victims.

  "That's pooty good," remarked the elder boatman. "You've done verywell for beginners. George is improving every day, and it won't belong afore he'll do 'most as well as men of experience," he addedcomplacently.

  George made no response except to wink soberly at Bob, and thenturned with the boys to examine the catch which Hank's party had made.

  They certainly had been very successful, and as the fish were takenfrom the box and placed in a row upon the grass, both Jock and Bobwere loud in their words of praise. Several large pike served toincrease the effect, and when at last all the fish had been seen, itwas perceived that in numbers and weight Hank's party had exceededthat of the other.

  "Come into the house, boys, and get some milk," called George. "Youmust be hungry by this time."

  Before entering, the boys all went to the barrel, which stood beneatha corner of the eaves, and dipping from the rain-water stored there,washed their faces in the tin basin. Refreshed by the act, they thenall followed the boatman, and seated themselves before the table, onwhich the housewife had placed a large pitcher of milk and severalearthen cups.

  The milk speedily disappeared, and the pitcher was again filled beforethe boys rose from their seats.

  "How much shall we pay you for the milk?" inquired Jock, as he turnedto go out into the yard again.

  "I don' know," replied the woman, hesitatingly. "I don' know jest whatit is worth."

  "It's been worth a good deal to us," said Jock, feeling in his pocketfor 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 thinkfive 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 thatmilk?"

  "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, andfinally compromised by inducing her to accept fifteen cents. Then ashe hastened to rejoin his companions, who now were waiting for him inthe yard, and perceiving that the muscallonge had not yet been shownthem, 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 themonstrous fish had been covered with grass.

  As he removed the covering and the great head of the muscallonge wasseen, Ben exclaimed in astonishment, "What! What's that?"

  "That," replied Jock, gently, "is our prize fish, or rather it'sBob'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 withthe 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 examiningthe prize, and making many comments in their enthusiasm. Hank,however, had not spoken, and after his first glimpse of the greatfish, turned away his head and pretended to be gazing out over thenear-by St. Lawrence. George, too, affected an air of indifference,which he was far from feeling, and which an occasional keen glanceat his rival boatman betrayed.

  "Did you ever catch a bigger one?"--_Page 303._]

  "I say, Hank," called Bob, "did you ever see a bigger fish than thatcaught here?"

  "Lots o' times," responded the boatman, coldly.

  "Did you ever catch a bigger one?" persisted Bob, evidently enjoyingthe jealous rage of the elder boatman.

  "Ho! Lots of times. And when I catch 'em, I catch 'em, too!" he addedmeaningly.

  "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 peculiarsmile. "When I see ye headed that way, I knew ye weren't goin' fornothin'."

  "Do you mean to say we _bought_ that fish?" demanded Jock, aghast.

  "I'm not makin' no insinuations," said Hank. "But I knows what Iknow."

  The boatman's suggestion seemed to afford intense delight to Ben andBert, and though they joined at once in the banter, it was evidentthey did not share in the suspicions of Hank McBride.

  "Did you ever hear about the fox who wouldn't be hired to eat the sourgrapes?" said George, turning to the boys, and striving to ignore thepresence of his rival.

  "I believe I have heard that story somewhere," replied Jock. "Did youever hear it, Hank?" he added, turning to the envious boatman.

  "I knows what I know," retorted Hank, adopting a line of argumentwhich is not confined to the region of the St. Lawrence.

  "You'd better be starting, boys," interrupted George. "You've got along drive before you, and you'll be too late to get any supper at thehotel if you stay around here any longer, wasting your time and wordstoo."

  The suggestion was at once acted upon. The fish were stored in thecarriage which was to convey the boys back to the hotel, and afterthey had assisted the boatmen in lifting their skiffs from the waterand placing them upon the frame wagons which had been sent down tocarry the boats to the place from which they had started in the earlymorning, 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 apretty fair wagon, and I won't charge you any more than you'd pay anyone 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 callit settled, then, and you are to come for us to-morrow morning ateight."

  "That's the way to do it," said Ben. "Don't you let these fellows haveany chance to explain how they got the muscallonge when you aren'tnear 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 goodfriends, too. But I guess Hank McBride won't put on quite so many airsas he's been doin' of late. He's a notion he's the only fellow thatcan take out a party hereabouts."

  About an hour and a half later the boys drove up in front of theirhotel, and, leaving their driver to look after their fish, ran up totheir rooms, and speedily prepared for the dinner which was ready forthem.

  When they at last came out of the dining room and appeared on thepiazza, they beheld a small crowd assembled about a spot on the lawn.When they joined the group, they discovered that their fish were theobjects which had drawn the spectators. Many were the exclamations ofastonishment at the number and size of the victims, and when at lastthe people departed, the boys were left to themselves.

  What to do with their catch then became the question. They had talkedof packing the muscallonge in ice and forwarding it to their parentsin New York, but the intense heat and the thought of possible delayshad seemed to make that impracticable. They had finally decided togive
them all to the proprietor of the hotel, and had just turned toenter the office to inform the clerk of their decision, when a manapproached 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 desirethat the huge muscallonge should be given to him if the boys had noother plan of disposing of it; and, wondering at his urgency, andaware that the remainder of their catch would be ample for all theimmediate wants of the hotel, they readily consented.

  It was some three weeks afterward when they learned that the man towhom they had presented their prize had first had a photograph ofhimself and his two boys taken with fishing-rods in their hands, andthe monstrous fish in the foreground, and had then shipped the fish tothe editor of the local paper of the village in which his home was. Amarked copy of this paper had been sent the boys, in which they read along account of the struggle this man and his boys had in catching themuscallonge, and how, at last, success had crowned their efforts, andin their generosity they had sent their prize, "which weighed somesixty pounds," to the editor himself. Great are the ways of fishermen,and marvellous the increase in weight which some fish attain afterthey have been drawn from their native waters! All that, however, isan outside matter, and as our boys did not learn of the various usesto which their prize was assigned until weeks had passed, it has nolegitimate part in the records of this story.

  Promptly at the appointed hour on the following morning Georgeappeared before the hotel, and the boys took their seats in his wagonto be carried back to the Landing. It was evident that George was inno wise downcast over the envious charges of his rival boatman on thepreceding day, and as they rode on he explained to them many of thepoints of interest in the region.

  As there was an abundance of time before the departure of their boatfor Ogdensburgh, they were all eager to examine the places hedescribed, and as he had dwelt particularly upon the attractions of aneighboring cemetery,--"graveyard," George called it,--they consentedto stop and visit it.

  It was a quaint little spot, and its humble headstones indicated thatthe great cloud which hangs low over all mankind was not wanting evenin the healthful region of the great river. But what had been ofpeculiar interest to George was the inscription on some of theheadstones, and as he pointed out one after another, his companionswere soon as interested as he.

  "Hold on, fellows," said Bob, taking out a note-book and pencil as hespoke; "I must have this one."

  The boys waited while Bob made an exact copy of the epitaph, and thisis 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 ofthat poem is too much for my tender feelings. Poor Jimmie! I don'twonder 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 tookhis seat in the carriage, an example his companions speedily followed.

  When they arrived at the Landing they discovered that there were yettwo hours before the little steamer would depart, and in response toGeorge's suggestion, for his good nature seemed to be restored now,they accepted his invitation and went with him to view some "sturgeonpounds."

  These pounds were pens in the water, near the shore, in which the boysdiscovered some fish which even put their great muscallonge to shame.These fish were caught, they learned, from a slender pier or frameworkbuilt out into the rapids. There, men, equipped with long poles, eachof which had a hook on the end much like the gaff George had used onthe preceding day, took their stand, and as the mighty sturgeon slowlyforced their way up the stream and against the current, they were seenby the waiting fishermen, and "hooked." They were then thrown aliveinto the pens and kept, with others, until a sufficient number hadbeen obtained, when they were all shipped to Montreal.

  Interested as the boys were in the sight, they did not long remainthere, and soon after their return to the Landing went on board thesteamer, and were ready to depart. Bidding George good-by, andthanking him once more for all the assistance and pleasure he hadgiven them, they were eager, when the boat left the dock, to return tothe camp on Pine Tree Island, for which they had now come to cherishalmost a feeling of home.