“LET’S get at that trawl as soon as we can,” announced Fred, as he entered the bungalow at breakfast time in the morning. “Captain says we may have a spell of foggy weather.”

“Why, it’s clear enough now,” said Dudley, in surprise.

“But look down the bay, that is not a cloud bank that you see off Rockland, that’s fog,” said Mr. Remington. “And if that southerly breeze continues we’ll get it thick.”

“But it is calm up here, so how do you know there’s a breeze down there and how do you know it’s a southerly?” questioned Dudley, who really was anxious to learn the “salt-water” wrinkles he perceived were of the utmost value in Island life.

“Don’t you see that schooner way down there? Look, how she is getting the wind,” was the enlightening reply from Fred.

“See, Dudley, the northerly wind that was blowing when we got up this morning, has all died out,” said Mrs. Remington. “And don’t you feel a curious chill in the air although the sun is still bright?”

So, the breakfast was hurried through and the Captain’s launch towed the big rowboat out to the trawl. On the way, they met Captain Benton from Isola Bella with three of the maids and the two little girls. Soon, that rowboat was added to the tow.

“We came over to see if you were going to look at the trawl,” announced Miriam. “Katy and Tillie want to see the fun so we made Jenny come too, though she hates a boat and told us she just knew she’d get seasick.”

“Where’s Bridget?” called Billy, who was very friendly with the fat Irish cook.

“Bridget said that a sight of all those queer fish would turn her stomach—she said to me, ‘Ye see, me dear, I hev a rale wakeness in me stomack whin I see sich ungodly craythers.’” Miriam giggled as she mimicked Bridget.

But it was just as well that Bridget had not joined the party that day for the trawl outdid itself in the revelations of the vasty deep.

An immense barndoor skate was followed by a sea-toad, or puffer, which continued to swell like a balloon the longer it was out of water. Then came some haddocks and dog-fish; suddenly, Fred exclaimed at the weight of the line and there arose to view a large ungainly monk-fish, or angler. “Oh, Captain! don’t throw him overboard until I get a photo of him,” cried Paul.

So intense was the interest and the fun that only the Captain and Mr. Remington noticed the fog that had crept stealthily up until the whole bay south of Flat Island was a blank wall of impenetrable mist.

“Come, come—we must get back now!” And Mr. Remington soon had his convoy arranged and the launch chugged away for Isola Bella wharf where it left Benton and his party the richer by several fine haddocks.

The Sunset Islanders reached the float-stage just before the fog shut them in.

“Make up a good fire in the bungalow,” said Mrs. Remington to Billy and Dudley. “And every one see that the tent-flaps are close shut to keep out as much of this dampness as possible.”

The novelty of the fog was at first delightful to the younger boys but when they realised that they were forbidden to even get into a boat while the treacherous white veil covered the island, they revised their judgment.

Elizabeth was a little aggrieved, too. “Just think, Uncle Tom and Aunt Edith will arrive in the morning and I wanted to go over to Rosemary to meet them. Now, this old fog will probably last two or three days.”

And so it proved. On account of this white barrier the Captain alone took Mr. Remington to Rosemary, Uncle Tom’s summer home on the mainland below Saturday Cove. From there, the Charlton’s motor conveyed the now transformed Islander to the New York express train at Rockland.

The only blight on the camper’s joy in Maine was the necessity for “business fathers” to leave their families there and return to the hot city. But often, an extra week-end was tucked in by both Mr. Remington and Mr. Farwell. Fate seemed to so arrange it however, that both men were rarely on their respective islands simultaneously. Uncle Tom Charlton was more fortunate as his business allowed him a long continuous vacation which he always enjoyed to the utmost.

“Captain,” said he to the returning launch-man, “as soon as this fog clears, we’ll be over to see you all. Tell Fred that two young college boys are going to be my guests for the week-end and I want them to get a taste of salt-water. They are from Georgia and while they are out-of-doors fellows they have always lived inland.”

This message was received with interest by Fred and the other campers and the fog was again appropriately consigned to “Halifax.”

“Never mind,” consoled Mrs. Remington; “use this enforced curtailment of your liberty by doing some listing up of your Woodcraft work.”

“That’s so! After we have filled the wood-boxes and helped Captain clean and salt those fish we’ll just look up the Nature Coups and see how much this Pentagoet Tribe knows about the denizens of the briny,” said Fred.

“Am I in your Pentagoet Tribe, now?” asked Paul.

“We will formally take you in at our first Council,” replied Fred.

“Me too!” cried Dudley. “That’ll be great! I was wondering how we’d fix it ’cause I want to be in a Woodcraft Tribe and not by my lonesome all summer.”

Nature books, pencils and paper, to say nothing of the “thinking caps” were all called upon that evening to do active service, so the fog was forgotten. Paul and Dudley triumphantly passed the examination of the twenty-five different fish they had listed up and identified. The lists were the same, as the two boys had been together in the pursuit of this Nature coup.

With genuine pride they copied the list on the backs of their official Honour claims for the fish coup.

Fish Coup.

• 1. Mola—or deep-sea Sunfish
• 2. Cunner
• 3. Hake
• 4. Haddock
• 5. Mackerel
• 6. Pollock
• 7. Harbour Pollock
• 8. Tom Cod
• 9. Cod
• 10. Skate
• 11. Shark
• 12. Dog-fish
• 13. Monk-fish—or Angler
• 14. Toad-fish—or Puffer
• 15. Sculpin
• 16. Salmon
• 17. Flounder
• 18. Sword-fish
• 19. Halibut
• 20. Herring
• 21. Shad (Fresh water fish)
• 22. Brook Trout (Fresh water fish)
• 23. Catfish (Fresh water fish)
• 24. Brook Sunfish (Fresh water fish)
• 25. Suckers (Fresh water fish)

Elizabeth helped Edith print the names of her list which varied a trifle because she had gold-fish on her fresh-water list and a lump-fish on her salt-water list of fish.

“Oh,” cried Edith, “I wish you all could have seen my little green lump-fish—he was so cute! Just like a little mould of jelly.”

“Like a jelly-fish?” asked Paul.

“Mercy no! It was shaped like a real fish only it was lumpy. Captain brought it to me in a bucket of water but I let it go again ’cause he was so little and funny.”

“Say, isn’t it lucky for our lists that we were all down in New London last summer and saw the fish there before they were cut up for the market,” said Dudley.

“You just bet! That gave us a good start—that sword-fish and halibut they showed us there,” affirmed Paul.

“Oh, look, boys! The fog is lifting!” cried Elizabeth.

“Perhaps it will be clear to-morrow,” added Fred.

So, cheered by this hope they all retired to their tents which only the use of oil-stoves had rendered dry in the dripping moisture of the fog.

The morning was lovely and the brisk nor’wester blew away all memory of the fog. In spite of the hard pull in the breeze, the boys insisted upon visiting their lobster pots.

“Oh joy! a lobster to-day for every one of us excepting Paul. But there are two in Fred’s trap,” counted Billy.

“Yes, and one of them’s big enough to enter for the prise contest. I’m going to weigh and measure it,” said Fred, steering the boat into Treasure Cove.

A launch whistle sounded “toot-toot!” while the scales and tape were being used for the lobster, and there was the Orion bringing Uncle Tom and the two big boys eager for the sights of the island camp. Friendships are quickly made under such conditions and when the Orion returned Shelby Jordan and Henry Pou were left for an over-night visit with Fred.

“I’ll lend them anything they need and besides, we do not dress up for fishing you know,” Fred assured his uncle and aunt, as they were saying good-bye to the boys.

The whole island was explored and one of the things that keenly interested the visitors was the Woodcraft Council Ring. So many questions were asked that Fred suggested a Council for that afternoon, that the boys might see for themselves just how one was conducted.

“Captain says we’re not going to under-run the trawl to-day, as he wants to put the fish we already have on the flats to dry. He’ll take us down to Flat Island in the launch and then drop us off at Isola Bella so we can invite the folks there. Then we’ll come back and hold a Council here at four o’clock,” planned Fred.

“Take along oil-skins and rubber caps,” warned his mother, “or you’ll all get wet on the way back.”

The visitors were intensely interested in the fish-drying operations and asked numerous questions of Captain Ed. The latter had to admit that the fog had been mighty bad for the “sweet” process of drying. “But they always smell a leetle anyway, and a few days of good hot sun will soon cure them now.”

It is doubtful however, if Shelby and Henry manifested the same appetite for salt-fish after being present at the scene on the flats where the “perfume factory” was all-sufficient.

The first Common Council was a merry and impromptu affair although conducted with due form and in parliamentary fashion. Fred was in the chair as “Island Chief” which was indeed the meaning of his Woodcraft title of Wita-tonkan.

For the benefit of the visitors he gave a little talk on Woodcraft and explained why they called the various groups Tribes, and chose Indian names in recognition of service or prowess.

“You see, we belong to the Woodcraft League which is composed of groups of young folks and older people, too, who like outdoor life and believe it helps make better citizens.

“We Woodcrafters prove that sensible exercise in the outdoors, preferably with some desirable aim in view, prepares us for the business of life.

“The pioneers of this country learned genuine Woodcraft from the Indians, and that is one reason why, here in America, we use Indian ceremonies in our Councils—sort of ”America First“ don’t you know.

“Why should we go back to Greece for examples of runners when the fleetest-footed Marathoners could have been given points by the village heralds of an Indian Tribe?

“When we hold a Grand Council we usually try to give it the semblance of a genuine American Indian affair. Indian costumes and customs are not necessary at all to Woodcraft but it adds a romantic touch. Looking up all of these things really teaches one a lot of American history, too.

“The same training and observation, and what I’ve heard a professor call ‘Co-ordination of mind and muscle’ with which the sturdy pioneers conquered the wilderness enables us to get along better in more civilised times—but maybe we’re not more civilised after all, with this war in Europe and our share in the savage condition of things.

“Well, to conclude, we boys are the Pentagoet Tribe of Woodcrafters and the girls, during our life on this Island, belong to us, too. At home, though, we have separate tribes that we boys and girls belong to.

“Now, brothers, we will begin by singing the Omaha Tribal Prayer which means, ‘Father, a needy one stands before Thee—I that sing am he.’”

With this, the Chief concluded and Elizabeth read the Tally of the last summer’s last Council and the Chair appointed her Tally-Chief again for the current meeting.

The roll-call showed fourteen present, counting visitors, and the reports of the scouts were confined to the mola and the trawling. But Billy—or to give him his ceremonial name of Shingebis—was interested in the prospect of swimming, so he reported on the temperature of the water in Treasure Cove. In spite of the recent fog it was growing warmer every day although it never was really comfortably warm.

The first business transacted was the welcoming of Paul and Dudley into the Pentagoet Tribe, as they were being transferred from the Grey Fox Band started by Mrs. Remington the previous winter for the Baker boys and their friends. The two boys did not have to take an initiation again as that had been attended to at the founding of the Grey Foxes.

Then came the awarding of Honours. The two Georgia boys were quite surprised by the businesslike way in which the coups were claimed and joined in the chorus of “Hows” as Wita-Tonkan presented the coveted coup feathers, symbolic of attainment.

When Edith was called upon she replied: “Oh Chief! I want to claim my coups when papa is present.”

“So do I, Oh Chief!” asserted Elizabeth, so the entertainment continued with various challenges—the visitors taking part in hand-wrestling, tub-tilting, and racing, to their great satisfaction. Shelby Jordan introduced a new stunt called “Japanese Cane-crawling” and it proved to be a popular game.

It was nearly supper time when the Council closed and the boys heard Mose ring the bell. The Isola Bella contingent said good-bye and were soon on the homeward sail while the Islanders hastened to avail themselves of the call to supper. Having two Southern boys present to appreciate his culinary skill, Mose outdid himself. The spoon-bread and molasses and cocoanut pie vanished that night like dew before a morning sun.

Two extra cots were placed in Fred’s sibley-teepee and the visitors had the unusual experience of undressing and going to bed before a little fire in the centre of the tent: a comfort not to be despised on a cool Maine night.

On the morrow a little southwest breeze was blowing and the boys all hurried off to the trawl, Shelby and Henry disguised in old trousers and sweaters found in the “slop-chest,” as the closet back of the living-room was termed.

When the boat reached the mooring buoy Shelby asked, “What do you call that craft?” indicating an old patched-sail lumberman that was tacking across the water toward Sunset Island.

“That’s a two-masted schooner,” replied Billy. “Isn’t she a beauty? Guess she’s old enough to vote.”

“Maine hasn’t got equal suffrage yet, or I guess she would have been voting these many years,” chuckled Fred.

“Say, Cap! Look at her now—she’s trying to run down our Island,” cried Billy.

For some moments past the Captain had been watching the old schooner and now he exclaimed: “By Heck! They must all be asleep or dead on board her. If she clears the south-end she’ll drift down on our Medric!” Fear made the Captain turn his launch and make for the little sloop Medric which was anchored off the float-stage of Sunset Island.

With a booming crash, however, and a terrifying slatting of sails, the old schooner piled up on the rocks of the little peninsula-point on the extreme south of the island, named Cape Horn by the Islanders.

Two lank youths were seen scrambling out of the companionway of the vessel’s cabin and a third was observed aft of the wheel. The breeze was increasing every minute and the situation of the stranded schooner was such that it was dangerous to board her from the water. But, it was nearly high tide and her bowsprit almost touched the grass on the high bank, or spur of ledge that Billy called Pulpit Rock. Consequently, it didn’t take long for the trawlers to land and swing themselves aboard the wreck by means of her jib-sheets and bobstay.

Mrs. Remington and the girls had heard the crash and the shouts from the schooner and they all ran from the bungalow to see what had happened; soon, they too joined the others in the unusual excitement of trying to save a wreck.

The young skipper and mate of the schooner were crestfallen for it appeared they had been fast asleep after a night of dancing and revelry in their hometown of Rockport. The third youth was even more disgusted with himself for he had been steering and had actually stretched himself out and dozed while he left the wheel in a cleat.

“You’ve only got half an hour of tide to help yuh git floated off,” called Captain Ed.

“Don’t we know it,” surlily replied the older boy, most likely thinking of the reckoning with his stern father who owned the Edward Everett.

“Well, I kin set you over to Sat’aday Cove so’s you kin git some one to tackle this job,” offered the kindly Captain.

“And they ought to do it right away, too, or she’ll break up,” added Fred.

Without loss of time, therefore, the Rockport crew accepted the Captain’s offer. Luckily for them, the wind died down toward sunset. In the meantime, the boys had under-run the trawl and added to their abundant stock of fish on Flat Island.

The next day the irate father of the luckless mariner arrived with two small fishing schooners and a load of empty blue barrels which had once contained “Pennsylvania Fluid.” The men worked hard all morning, securing the barrels beneath the Edward Everett, then when high tide came the now leaky old craft was kedged back out of her rocky berth.

“Good-bye, Ned!” cried the irrepressible Dudley, waving his cap at the departing schooner.

“Boy, you shouldn’t speak disrespectfully of an old grand-daddy like that, er call him by his first name,” admonished the Captain, jocularly. The Orion had appeared in time to watch the old antique craft retire after her hardy bout with Sunset Island rocks and when the excitement was all over Uncle Tom called to Shelby and Henry to get their things together as he was going to tote them back to Rosemary.

The two boys were really sorry to go but they realised that it was Mr. and Mrs. Charlton they were visiting and at least a single day of the week-end was due their hosts.

Farewells were said and Elizabeth, who had been wildly scribbling while the boys were preparing to embark on the Orion, now presented them with a memento of their visit in the form of a parody on “The Last Buccaneer” which she entitled “The First Wreck on Here.”

The next few days passed swiftly by in doing the usual camp-work varied by Billy’s efforts to run the launch—he was hoping to own one himself some day; and the other boys’ indifferent success at wood-chopping to keep the boxes filled, showed the youthful engineer that they wished they could be with him.

Then came the day set aside by Mrs. Remington for a “laundry party.” She said she hadn’t the courage to send such awful clothes to the Islesboro Steam Laundry.

However, the sting of this occasion was removed by the unexpected promise of the first swim that season when the wash was finished.

While the boys were soaking their trawling duds in hot soapy water, good-natured Mose brought them a large bottle of household ammonia. As he drew near the tub he pretended to believe they were preparing a new kind of fish chowder.

“Yo’ don’ tell me dem are cloe’s yo’ got fermentin’ in dat tub,” cried he aghast. “Why, dey’s got scales like a fish, an’ dey smells like a fish, an’ Ah b’lieve yo-all tryin’ t’fix up a new-fangle kin’ ov fish-soup! It looks lak some ov dat tin-soup broth! Ah spec’s hit’ll tas’ mos’ de same, too,” and Mose sniffed at the aroma with a true chef’s expressive disdain.

The boys laughed and Mose hoaxed them until every one was in a good humour, then the wise old cook went back to his work chuckling to himself. “Hit all depen’s on how yo’ han’le boys when dey gotta nasty job on ’er han’s to do!”

Then, how the boys enjoyed their plunge in the sea, even though Paul and Dudley confided to each other that they were quite sure the temperature was below zero that day.

Mrs. Remington herded them out in a few minutes and the balance of the day was spent in trying various athletic exercises to restore the quick circulation of the blood of youth.