After breakfast he made no delay, for he wished to catch that bass. First he took a good look at his island to see where she kept her private ice-box. On the west it was full of fiords, but it struck him that on the east it resembled Resaron, the little Swedish island that has revealed four elements to the world. His tent stood on the Duckling about where the hamlet of Ytterby stands on Resaron, except that no brook led down to the water.

Instead of a brook the Duckling supported a line of bushes—blueberries and sweet gale—leading out to the edge of the cliff. A blueberry can extract delicious acid out of silica, and sweet gale can take up the odor of pine needles and change it into that of bay leaves. He remembered how the bushes mantled the rock clean down to the water, and determined to try for bass at that point.

He descended to the boat-house and stole a dozen minnows, leaving about twenty-seven grams of silver in the minnow pail. Then he rowed over to Ytterby, selected a great triton of the minnows, and experimented. The cliff was no place to land anything, but as he really expected nothing—

He got a bite! Say rather a submarine starting for Finland! His line whizzed away, swung through a quadrant, and started back. He reeled as fast as he could, and with one strong effort swung a five-pound bass clean up over his head. It landed in the bushes, and he had to go in head first after it.

Then something happened. The man disappeared, pole and all. He felt the darkness of a cave, the ledge of rock that struck him across the heart, the ice water closing over him. Then he was rising and feeling for the ledge. He found it, crawled up, and fell forward. He bit the air, but his breath refused to come....

Meantime Jean had finished her dishes and assembled the materials for her chowder. She had everything now but the fish, and all she had to do was to go to Pukwudgee and get him. Pukwudgees are Indian fairies, and she had always called her cave by that name, for once it was haunted by the little wild men.

She ran down to the boat-house, found the silvery sunken treasure among her minnows, and laughed. She rowed to Pukwudgee and tied up the branches. She trolled deep, got a strike, and felt her fish make for the cave. She played him gently out again, but suddenly he put on weight and rose in spite of her.

Instantly his weight disappeared, and she thought he had torn the hook out. But no, as she reeled in she saw a second line, one that had crossed here. It came up tautly from within the cave!

There could be but one explanation—there must be an opening above, and a terrible thing had happened!

She slipped off most of her clothes, stood for one instant unseen and beautiful on the stem of the dory, and dived. She came up within, and was instantly on the ledge. There was light enough from above to see him clearly. She put her ear close to his heart and heard it beat, and then burst out crying.

He gave a sigh.

“Is that you, nurse? What are you crying about?”

“I always cry when I’m happy.”

He reached out his hand and touched her bare arm. The hand drew back, but she closed her own about it. He lay still, clasping it closely.

“Jean, what do you want me to do?”

“Keep your eyes closed.”

“I will. Is it any use to call for help?”

“No. We’re going back into the water. Just float, and let me do the rest.”

She slipped off the ledge and eased him down on his back, and swam with him upstream.

The cave was narrow, but the entrance was a foot under water. Having reached it, she moved to the right, feeling with her toes for a jut of rock. She found one, and now had something to push against. Marvin’s left armpit was locked with her own. She reached over and grasped his nose with her thumb and finger, and down they went like two seals diving. Then, gathering all her forces, she sprang forward. The effort sent her far from all support, but carried her under the barrier. Now they were rising, and now she felt the rock against the nape of her neck. She had made it, if she could only hold it. She set her jaw and stiffened her neck and drew his head up into the air.

Now her right hand was free, and she caught the sweet gale. Inch by inch she drew her burden along till she reached her dory. She lifted herself in, still holding his collar by one hand. She braced herself, exerted every gram of her strength, and slid him into the long-suffering boat.

“Please pull my fish in. The line is caught around my leg, and I can feel him whenever he moves.”

She obeyed, and dropped the five-pounder beside him, where it flopped with unwonted intoxication of oxygen. Then she hauled in the other end of his line and finally his dripping pole.

“Tell me when to open my eyes.”

She stood up and put on her blouse and skirt and moccasins.

“Ready.”

He blinked at her as a dead warrior blinks at a Valkyrie.

“You saved my life. How much?”

“There’s no charge for saving lives. They are included with the board.”

“May I tell you that you are the bravest, cleverest, sweetest girl in all the world?”

“No! You mustn’t say things like that to me.”

“But can’t you see that I love you?”

“I see that you are dripping wet.”

She swiftly rowed to his harbor and rested on her oars.

“Can you dress yourself? Shall I send father over?”

“Don’t even inform him, please. Do you want me to tell you about Gratia?”

“I don’t care a snap about Gratia.”

Marvin shivered till his teeth chattered and the boat shook.

“But—but—she refused me. She didn’t want to tie my necktie.”

Jean burst into a peal of laughter and sprang from the dory. In two minutes she had a fire blazing before his tent. In another minute she had left the island, carrying his bass.