CRABS AND DISASTER
"ARE you perfectly sure it is safe?" asked Cleo. "Seeing the bottom here doesn't mean we can see it all the way across."
"Why, you could walk across the river, really," replied Louise. "Even at high tide it's not more than a big pond."
"Oh, do come on," begged Grace. "Think of catching crabs."
"But who knows how to row?" demanded the cautious Cleo.
"I do!" called Margaret. "I always rowed out in the pond at Flosston."
"And so do I," insisted Julia. "We go to Lake George sometimes, and I have tried rowing in the smaller streams there."
"And I have always known how to row," replied Louise emphatically.
"That being the case I suppose I must make the crabbing party unanimous," capitulated Cleo, "although I should not enjoy a spill out here so near the inlet."
"We will go up stream, the other way," conceded Louise, delighted at the prospect of their crabbing party. "Come on, here is where we hire our boat, and get our crabbing outfit."
Down to the landing that jutted out into the shallow Round River, the girls hurried to procure their fishing outfit.
"A flat bottomed boat," urged Cleo.
"All right," agreed Louise. "But any big boat will do. There are four of us. One basket and four poles," she ordered from the prim little gray haired woman who kept the stand at the landing.
"And bait," went on Louise, while the other girls marveled at her marine intelligence.
"Oh, what smelly stuff?" sniffed Grace, taking the basket and holding it out at arm's length.
"That's the bait," explained Louise.
"I'm never going to eat fish as long as I live," resolved Cleo. "Each time I meet it it smells worse."
"The same fish naturally would," joked Louise. "But this is only bait Cleo—bait, don't you know what that means?" she teased, swinging the obnoxious basket up to a line with Cleo's face, where avoiding the odor would be impossible.
A boy was unfastening their boat, and he placed the oars in the locks just as the girls reached the water's edge.
"Don't tip," cautioned Julia. "We could at least get wet, even in this shallow water."
Grace and Margaret took the oars, and soon the crabbing party was gliding out among the few vacationists who were taking advantage of the pleasant afternoon on the water.
"Oh, look!" exclaimed Cleo. "There are the crabs! Where's our bait and things?"
"We have to load up first," explained Louise, assuming the role of fisherman. "Get your lines out, look out! Don't tangle them."
"But how do we hook them?" asked Julia, who was gingerly affixing an unfortunate little "shiner" on her line, to serve as bait for the foolish, greedy crab.
"We don't hook them, we catch them in the nets," further explained Louise. "I came out with daddy last week."
"Oh, no wonder you are so wise," said Cleo, struggling with her line. "I simply couldn't imagine what degree of scouting you learned to fish in; because I didn't."
"We recall what a lovely time you had in Allbright woods," Grace reminded Cleo. "But then it was at cooking fish you especially qualified," she added referring to an incident related in "The Girl Scout Pioneers."
"Oh, yes. My explosive mud ball!" assented Cleo. "But this is different. Ugh! I shall never, never brag of clean hands again after this. There, my fish is tied on the sinker; now what do I do, Weasie?"
"Don't rock the boat, that is always first and last orders," replied her chum, "and next, just throw your line out in any direction you choose."
"Oh, I see. You just guess where the crabs are," replied Cleo, quite interested, as her bait was leaving port, so to speak. "There! That's the best part of the fun—taking aim," and she gracefully tossed her flying line out into the water.
The other girls had likewise "cast," and now all were patiently waiting for a bite.
"Now, when you feel a pull," advised Louise, "just bring it up and slip your net in quietly, and scoop up Mr. Crab. There! I've got one! Now watch!"
Just as she had ordered the others to do, Louise now scooped up her net, and in came a good sized blue crab.
"Oh, look out," cried Grace. "Crabs bite fearfully. Louise, you are not going to turn that thing loose in this little boat?" she wailed.
"Don't worry Grace; he goes right in his little basket. There!" and with a skillful motion Louise did turn the squirming shell fish into the basket.
"He's crawling out!" shrieked Julia. "Oh, we should have a cover for the basket."
"No," Margaret said, shaking the basket and thus settling the nervous crab. "He can't get out. He is just exercising. My, how clawy he is! How many like that would it take to make a meal?"
"Quite a few I should think," replied Cleo. "For I know we don't eat the shell. But this is fun. Let me have another try. My turn to land one now," and again she cast out and patiently waited a bite.
The next shout of victory, however, came from Julia's end of the boat, and she presently landed a very large crab, so large and lively in fact, that all four girls helped to get him in the basket.
"Now, they'll fight," murmured Margaret. "See the way they claw each other."
"Come on girls," called Louise. "We'll never fill our baskets if we hold an autopsy over every catch. Here! I've got another," and into the basket went another unfortunate.
"It's just like a game, and I think the chance of grabbing one is as good fun as grabbing at Cross Tag," Cleo remarked. "Oh, there's one, Grace; look at your line dragging!"
And so it went on until the crabs were piling up in the basket and threatening to get out, in spite of the sea weed that was heaped on much thicker than necessary, according to the opinion of Louise.
So intent were the girls on their crabbing game they had not noticed the other craft drifting about them. Suddenly Grace pulled so hard at Cleo's sleeve she almost lost a catch in the attempt.
"Look!" begged Grace. "Over in that boat! Wise Willie, the boy with the book."
They all paused to observe the graceful green bark, in which was seated the boy with the book, as Grace described him. And as usual the book was very much in evidence.
In fact, his oars lay in their locks, and he was drifting aimlessly as if the river were his, instead of the earth, according to Monte Cristo.
"Let's give him a scare and see if he is alive," suggested Cleo.
"Suppose we row up to him and ask him if he knows where the Weasle lives," proposed Grace.
"Oh, please don't," implored Julia, who showed signs of nervousness. "Why should we disturb him—he's only reading?"
"Oh, you like Wise Willie," teased Margaret. "Here's a flower from my belt, toss it to him, Julia."
But in spite of their joking the boy in the boat, all unconscious of the attention he was the center of, merely drifted on, until first one oar, then the other slipped out of the boat, and floated down the river.
"I believe he is unconscious," Grace continued to joke. "Now, of course, we have to rescue his oars."
"Why?" asked Julia innocently.
"Or tow him in, if you would rather, Jule," suggested Louise. "Don't you realize we are bound by traffic laws to assist a stranded boatman?"
"But he isn't stranded, and he doesn't need help," replied Julia with a show of something like temper. "Why should we speak to a strange boy?" she demanded.
"And why shouldn't we?" fired back Cleo. "If he isn't stranded it is because he hasn't struck the strand yet; just watch him."
They dropped their nets and watched the boy, who, bent over his book, drifted along without the least sign of regard for his situation.
Meanwhile the oars had drifted farther and farther away. A passing motor boat swelled the tide to a current and this washed them almost out of sight of the watchers.
"Being a boy we hesitate to hail him," said Louise. "Now, if that were a girl——"
"Oh, if it were," interrupted Julia, with a meaning tone.
"All the same the poor boy may be late for dinner," said Grace foolishly. "Let's hail him!" and she cupped her hands to her lips.
"Please don't," begged Julia. This objection brought forth a perfect volley of cynicism.
Finally, Cleo took up one oar, and Margaret the other, and they proceeded in the direction of the floating propellers. As they passed the boy's boat, the girls spoke loudly of "some one losing his oars," but even this did not arouse him.
"Maybe we'll have to row him home," said Grace. "He doesn't look as if he cared much whether he ever gets back to land or not."
It took but a few moments to get his oars, and again the girls turned up stream.
"Who is going to give them to him," asked Louise, with a foolish giggle.
"We are noble scouts—we are!" mocked Cleo. "Mine be the task! A-hem!" and here a fit of laughter spoiled the proposed effect.
"Here are your oars!" called Grace, before the others could realize what she was about. But no boy answered.
"Say!" yelled Margaret, taking courage from Grace. "Say, boy! Here are your oars!" Still no answer.
Louise took an oar and gave the drifting boat a vigorous shove.
At this the boy did look up, and for a moment he seemed to comprehend; then he jumped up so suddenly he toppled over into the water between the two boats!
"Oh, mercy!" cried the girls, in one voice.
"The river is deep enough here!" exclaimed Louise. "Give him an oar to climb on."
A sudden scream from the boy in the water brought the melancholy news that he could not swim! His boat drifted off as quickly as it was freed from his weight, and the girls were not quite near enough to reach him.
"Hurry, hurry!" begged Louise, who was now rowing. "He may sink, then what would he do?"
But the boy was splashing around making a brave attempt to keep up, and really doing so by the flat handed action with which he patted the water.
All embarrassment was now forgotten, as the scouts pulled up carefully to where the boy was just bobbing up and down, each movement adding to his peril.
"Climb in!" commanded Louise as they reached him. But he could scarcely put his hand to the oar, and the girls noticed his face was blue white.
"Oh, dear me!" cried Julia, "he is fainting or something," and nervous though she was, it was she who managed to get the first grip on the weakened boy.
It was no easy matter to get him into the boat; he was struggling and gasping for breath, and could make very little effort to help himself. Finally, when all four girls had succeeded in keeping the boat balanced and dragging him into it, he gave one painful gasp, closed his eyes, and sank into unconsciousness.