CHAPTER XXXVIII

HOMEWARD BOUND—A DISH OF EELS

For nearly three miles they held to the main road, going due north, then turned aside to a quiet grassy by-track running north-east, and were fairly launched on their new route. Moving in quiet, steady fashion, they made nine miles before they halted, then pulled up below an oak-tree on the borders of a little wood for a long halt during the heat of the day. Both, though in good, hard condition, were dripping with sweat, for the day was unwontedly sultry for early summer.

'Don't mind if I do stretch me legs a bit,' grunted the Raven.

'Yes,' said Dick; 'jolly stiff going to-day, Chippy. Isn't it hot? But we can take a good long rest now. We've broken the back of the day's journey.'

'Right time to do it, Dick,' said his friend.

'Rather,' said Dick; 'no time for a tramp like the freshness of the morning.'

The boys stretched themselves in the shade and lay at their ease for half an hour, then Dick sat up.

'Well,' he said, 'there seems a hollow inside me somewhere.'

'Same 'ere, Dick,' murmured the Raven. 'We'll fill up. Wot's the bill o' fare?'

'Chupatties and tea, I fancy,' replied the Wolf. 'We've been carrying the rest of that bag of flour about since Monday morning.'

'All to the good,' murmured Chippy, 'all to the good. Wot we've dropped in for has saved our——' He pulled up abruptly, and did not utter the word 'cash,' which had been in his mind. 'Shan't mention that,' he continued in a lower whisper still, ''cept we're in the middle of a ten-acre field.'

Dick laughed. 'We got into a trifle of a fix the last time we discussed that subject,' he said. 'I say, Chippy, do you reckon that it was a bit of a blot on us as scouts that we were caught like that?'

Chippy heaved a deep sigh. 'I've never mentioned it,' he replied, 'but it's bin on my mind more'n once. Seems to me we orter scouted round more to find whether there wor enemies in the country. They 'ad us on toast, they did. Reg'lar let down for a pair o' scouts,' and Chippy sighed again.

In order to banish these melancholy thoughts, the Wolf and the Raven began to get something to eat. The Wolf opened his jacket and mixed the flour on the lining, while the Raven fetched water and made a fire, and chopped and peeled and heated a club.

When the dough was ready, Dick worked it into a long strip which was wound spirally round the club. Then the club was thrust into the ground beside the fire, one end of it being sharpened. Now and again the club was given a turn while the dough toasted steadily. Chippy watched the dough, and Dick made the tea.

They ate their meal, rested a couple of hours, then went on again. It was now midday, and tremendously hot. But they were not going a great way. The map showed the winding blue line of a river two miles ahead, and they were in search of it for a pleasant swim.

They gained the bank of the river, sat down a short time to cool off, then stripped and plunged in, and spent a delightful half-hour in the clear water. As they were dressing they observed that a faintly marked path ran through the meadow at the edge of the stream. They followed it when they were ready to march once more, and soon came upon a mill standing at the waterside. Above the mill was a broad pool, and in the shade of some bushes trout were feeding, or, more likely, playing, for now and again one would leap clean out of the water and fall back again with a flash of silver. The boys sat down on the bank beside the water and gazed upon the pleasant pool.

'It would come in handy if you could catch a few of those trout, Chippy,' said Dick. 'Those were all right we caught on Monday night.'

The Raven shook his head. 'Wish I could, Dick,' he replied; 'but that dodge ain't no use now, an' I couldn't get them over theer to look at anythin' I've got wi' me.'

'I suppose not,' said Dick. 'I say, Chippy, see that heap of stones just under the bank here.'

The Raven glanced down and saw what his brother scout was pointing at. It looked as if for generations the millers had flung their broken mill-stones into this part of the pool, and they lay piled against each other with black hollows between.

Chippy looked down thoughtfully, then his eyes lighted up. 'Never seen a more likely place in me life for big eels,' he grunted; 'they love a hole atwixt stones lik that.'

'Do you think we could catch a few?' cried Dick eagerly.

'Shouldn't wonder,' replied his comrade. 'We'll have a go, anyhow. Fust, we want some lobs.'

The search for lob-worms was made at once.

'We'll have to dig for them, I suppose,' said Dick.

'Not a bit of it,' said Chippy. 'I'll show ye a lot quicker way than that.'

He went to the side of the field where there was a ditch nearly dry in the hot sun. He walked along the ditch until he came to a stone. He turned the stone swiftly, and there was almost sure to be a big lob lying underneath it, sometimes two or three. Before they could withdraw into their holes the Raven's finger was pressed on their tails, and they were helpless. In a few moments he had collected more than a dozen big lobs, and these were carried back triumphantly to the mill-pool in his hat.

Next he cut a couple of hazel-rods about four feet long, and fairly stiff, tied a short line to each, and fastened a strong-eyed hook at the end of the line.

'Now we're ready,' he said. 'This little game's called "sniggling," an' it's a sure thing if only th' eel's at 'ome. Lemme get 'old 'o one fust, an' show ye how to pull 'im out.'

Chippy put a lob on his hook, and then pinched a small split bullet—of which his friend had given him half a dozen—on the line about six inches above the hook. He dropped the weighted bait into a dark hole between two fragments of stone, and moved it gently about. Two or three minutes passed; then the Raven drew his bait up.

'Nobody in,' he remarked; 'try next door.' He moved a yard along the bank, and dropped the bait into a second dark crevice. It was seized instantly, and the line sharply plucked.

'One 'ere,' said Chippy; 'there's no mistake about hearin' from him, if there's one about.'

'Look how he's pulling at the line!' cried Dick, as the slender cord jerked again and again.

'Yus,' said Chippy; 'nuthin' plucks an' pulls like an eel. Now he's got a good hold o' the bait, an' out he comes.'

The Raven began to pull firmly but slowly, keeping the line quite taut.

'Don't try to yank 'im out,' he said to his pupil. 'Sure's ye do, ye'll break the line an' lose the lot. Pull gently at 'im till he's tired; then out he comes, smooth an' easy.'

Three or four minutes passed before Chippy drew the snake-like head of the eel out of the black hole between the stones.

'A good un,' he snapped, drew on the line a little harder, and swung an eel weighing half a pound or more to the bank, where he promptly put one foot on the eel and drew the line taut.

'See wot I'm doin'?' said the Raven. 'If ye don't look out, he'll tangle hisself all up in yer line, an' give ye a fine old job to get 'im free.' With that he whipped out his knife, and despatched the wriggling creature by cutting off its head.

Dick now took his stick and line to try his luck, while his comrade dug out hook and bait, which had vanished down the eel's throat. Dick caught a little one in the first hole that he tried, and drew it safely to the bank. But there he failed to control its wild, sinuous movements, and it tangled itself up in his line in such a style that Chippy had to come to his aid.

After that he got on much better, and caught two good-sized ones, and held them and the line taut, while Chippy sailed in with the knife and whipped their heads off.

In a short time they had seven, for the holes were well furnished with occupants, and with these seven they stayed content. They washed them in a quiet backwater, and rubbed them as clean as they could with wisps of dry grass, and then packed them in Chippy's haversack, with more dry grass about them.

'Mek' us a jolly good supper to-night,' said the Raven.

'They will,' cried Dick. 'Now for the road again. We've got an uphill stretch before us, Chippy, according to the map.'