*CHAPTER VIII.*
*ANEMONE POOL.*
"By the time we get over there, Mr. Andrews, the tide will be down. Areyou ready?" called Joe, rapping on the tent occupied by that gentlemanand Mr. Lane.
"Yes; we will come directly. You need not wait."
"All right, sir.--Come on, boys. They'll come after. Who wants torace?"
"I do," cried Walter Martin. "Race open for all! No handicappingeither. One, two, three! Luck to the fellow that happens to startahead!"
Away went two score boys over the pasture, like a herd of wild deer,clearing the hillocks and patches of hemlock at a bound.
Dave got the lead, and, with Joe close at his heels, he reached thewoods; and there discovering that they had the race to themselves, andthe other boys calling "Time! time!" at the top of their voices, theyboth cried "Quits," and dropped together by a blueberry patch, where, assoon as they recovered breath, they began to pick and eat. They waitedthere until their companions came up; and then, tired of racing, theparty sauntered lazily along, picking berries by the way.
"No John or Jerry here yet?" said Maurice Perry, as they came near therendezvous.
"We can find the place easy enough though," said Ned Gould. "It wasnear that rock with a peaked top, John said."
The whole troop of boys leaped down from rock to rock along theboulder-strown shore, until they reached the rock spoken of as alandmark.
"I don't believe the tide is low enough," said Joe, peering into onepool after another. "Hullo! there are John and Jerry.--Hullo there!Come, find your 'puddle.' We can't."
"Good reason why. It's covered up with water. The tide isn't lowenough. There it is, right there; but you've got to wait till the tideis down, and the water in the 'puddle' settles."
After a while, a standing-place on the outer edge of the pool was freefrom water, and as many of the boys as possible crowded upon it.
"You'd better get off that. A big wave will come and give you aduckin'," said John laughing.
The boys were hesitating whether to heed the advice, when a shout wentup from the crowd higher up on the rocks.
"Jump! Quick! You'll be ducked!"
The shout gave the warning to some in time, and, leaping across thepool, they clambered up to a safe place; but others, stopping to lookaround and see what was the matter, were drenched by a huge incomingwave, that fairly took them from their feet and hurled them into John's"puddle," among the "live things" he had told them of.
There was a great shrieking, and sputtering, and splashing, as the boysemerged from their bath, wiser, if not sadder, for the experience.
When the teachers arrived, they found some half-dozen boys dressed in anexceedingly primitive style, while they wrung their clothes, and hungthem to dry on the boulders.
"I told 'em not to go there," said John. "You can't hurry the tide out;it takes its own time, no matter how many folks is waitin'."
"'Time and tide wait for no man,'" suggested Maurice.
"Well, the rest of us will take warning, and keep where it is safe,"said Mr. Andrews, striving to peer into the troubled waters of the pool.
After a few more waves had swept over, making the crowd run back in alively way from the edge, John announced oracularly,--
"There, that's about the last. There won't be any more come over thatstrip of ledge on the other side; but you can't see nothin' till it getssettled."
He was right in his prophecy: no more rude waves chased them from theirposition, and gradually the water of the pool grew clearer and clearer,until some of its wonders could be plainly seen.
"I see an anemone!" cried Mr. Andrews.
"Yes, dozens of them. How beautiful--purple and yellow in every shade!"added Mr. Lane.
"What! those filmy-looking things against the sides?" asked Joe, lyingflat on the rocks to see better.
"Yes; those are sea-anemones."
"See 'em shut up when I poke 'em," cried John, coming with a stick toshow them off.
"No, no, John; not yet," cried Mr. Andrews, motioning him away. "Wewant to see them open. See them wave their tentacles in search of food!Ah, one fellow has a periwinkle eating!"
"You don't mean to say that soft-looking thing can eat that winkle!"exclaimed Dave.
"Yes, indeed, and very much larger things than that.--Let me take thestick, John."
Then touching one of the anemones with it in the gentlest way, he causedit to draw in its tentacles and shut up like a puckered bag, all beautygone.
"Oh, leave the rest open!" cried the boys.
Mr. Lane stooped down, and, working carefully and perseveringly,detached one from the side of the rock, and offered it to Joe. But itwas not an inviting-looking object out of its element; and Joe,shrinking back, said, "Thanks,--no jelly for me."
"Now look at the sea-urchins and star-fish," said Mr. Andrews, pickingup a specimen of each. "See these spines, how stiff and unyielding theylook."
"Only put him down bottom upward," interposed Jerry, setting one downthat he held in his hand.
The boys crowded around and watched the curious creature as he slantedhis spines until he brought them into position where he could movehimself on them, and gradually bring himself right side up again.
The boys experimented with them and with the star-fish for a long time,and tried to spread the latter out to dry on the rocks; but by the timethey had smoothed out the last ray the first would be curling up,conscious that it was in an unfriendly place.
"We will take some over to camp and pin them on a board," said Mr. Lane,collecting specimens of various sizes from that of a penny to that of ahat-crown.
"Pin them down? You wouldn't stick pins into them, Mr. Lane!" said Joe,horrified.
"In the cause of science. Besides, they have no brains, andconsequently no feelings to hurt."
"They may not have brains; but if they have no feeling, why do theytwist up when you bother them?"
"I've seen 'em growing a new finger when one's been pulled off," pipedJerry.
"Yes; they can readily supply any such loss."
"Wasn't I right in saying it was a pretty puddle?" asked John proudly.
"Yes, indeed; but it deserves a better name. Let's call it AnemonePool."
"That's it. That sounds first-rate," answered the boys. "Anemone Poolit is."
The wet clothes were still damp, but the owners dressed themselves, andwere proceeding to hurry away, when John said, "Hold on! I forgot totell you something." The boys stood still and looked back, waiting forthe speaker to come to them.
"Those men from the wreck said they spoke a fishing-smack just offyonder the night before the storm, and they had aboard two of thescaredest fellows you ever see."
The boys were all attention now, and crowded around John.
"The captain of the smack said the boys had been sea-sick ever sincethey shipped, and as soon as the fog came on they had been so frightenedhe didn't know what to do with 'em."
"Well, what did he do?" demanded Joe impatiently.
"He wanted Captain Melrose to take them off his hands; he thought therewas goin' to be a storm, and he really hadn't room for 'em. He saidthey just stayed around and moped."
"Poor fellows!" said Joe soberly.
"Captain Melrose couldn't take 'em; he was bound out. The other cap'nsaid somethin' about the two belongin' on an island with acampin'-party; and afterwards when he came ashore here and see all youfellows he concluded this was the island."
The boys exchanged glances with Mr. Lane and Mr. Andrews, but not a wordwas spoken for several minutes; then Mr. Andrews said, "Boys, go on tocamp, and Mr. Lane and I will go back to the lighthouse and interviewthese men to see if we can get any further information."
The boys went slowly away, feeling very sober over John's news, and thetwo teachers hastened in the opposite direction.
"What do you suppose has become of them?" asked Dave, in a low tone, ofhis friend Joe.
"What would you do?"
"I would fly over to Mr. Bernard and beg him to let them land. I thinkthey've been punished enough, and I think he thinks so too, and wouldforgive them."
"Who wants to go out in the boat?" shouted Ned Gould, looking backtowards Joe and Dave, who owned part of the little craft.
"I," said Joe; "but it's too rough yet from the storm. Look at thewhite-caps."
"Who cares for white-caps? It's all the more fun when the boat dances."
"Well, fun or no fun, you won't get Mr. Bernard's permission to gobefore to-morrow, and very likely not then."
"Oh, bother! Mr. Bernard is always tying us up so. We can't go here,we can't go there," said Ned angrily.
"That's so. I should think we were old enough to do as we choose. Myfather doesn't want me to be made a Miss Nancy; he wants me to roughit," growled Walter Martin.
"I've managed a boat ever since I was out of petticoats," continued Ned,"and father knows it; but I suppose Mr. Bernard would be horrified if Ishould ask leave to borrow the light-keeper's boat for a sail."
"I don't think Mr. Bernard is a bit too strict," said Joe boldly. "Justremember that he has the care of a big crowd, and feels responsible forour safety. I believe most of our folks would say he couldn't be toocareful in such a place as this."
"Oh, of course you would stand up for him!" sneered Walter, "you and heare such friends."
Joe laughed good-naturedly.
"Well, if we can't use our boat we might as well set her adrift. What'sthe use of having a boat?" growled Walter.
"Bite off your nose to spite your face!" whispered Dave.
"I'll tell you what we'll do. I'll get Mr. Bernard to let us go off tothe other end of the island down by the place John told us about, andwe'll bring our lunch and have a high time!" exclaimed Joe.
"Can't go without a teacher along to look after us, just as if we wereinfants out with their nurse," grumbled Walter.
"I will ask Mr. Bernard to give us liberty for once, and trust us totake care of ourselves," laughed Joe, determined to restore Walter togood-nature.
"He won't do it."
"I'll ask, anyhow. I believe he will."
"There's the supper-bell!" shouted Dave, dashing away toward camp.
The rest of the crowd quickened their steps to a run, and were soongathered around the table, having returned from their long walk withkeen appetites.
Joe gave Mr. Bernard the story told by Captain Melrose and repeated tothem by John Kramer; and added that the two teachers had gone on to thelighthouse, hoping to hear something that would give them a clue to thewhereabouts of the fishing-smack.
Academy Boys in Camp Page 8
