CHAPTER VI
A SPOILT BREAKFAST
"Anyone awake?" enquired Mr Trematon softly, thrusting his head through the partially unlaced opening of the tent, where the eight "Otters" were lying like the spokes of a wheel, each lad's feet towards the tent-pole.
"I am, sir," replied Atherton and Green.
"Slip on your things and come out. I've a little job for you."
Without hesitation the two lads obeyed, and were soon blinking in the early morning sun. It was just after five o'clock—réveillé was to be at half-past six.
The air was keen and the dew still thick upon the short grass. The village of Polkerwyck was yet in shadow, for the sun had not risen sufficiently high to throw its slanting beams upon the deep-set hamlet. But already there were signs of activity, for several of the fishing boats that had been out all night had just returned and were landing their cargoes for conveyance to the nearest railway station. So still was the air that the reflections of the frowning cliffs and the deep browns of the tanned sails were faithfully reproduced in the placid water. The morning mist still lingered on the hill-tops, and drifted in ill-defined patches across the headlands that defined the limits of the bay.
"Best part of the day, sir," said Atherton cheerfully, as he surveyed the scene of tranquillity.
"It is," assented Mr Trematon. "It makes one pity the sluggards who never see the sun rise. But I want you two to come with me across the Polkerwyck. Old Varco promised he'd have an old boat's mast ready for use as a flagstaff, and I want to commence our first day on Seal Island by saluting the flag."
It was now nearly high tide, and thanks to the steepness of the shore there was little difficulty in launching the smallest boat. The Scoutmaster steered, while Atherton and Green rowed.
"Isn't the water clear," said Green, looking over the side. "I wish we could have a bathe."
"All in good time," replied Mr Trematon. "There's a splendid bathing cove just past that point of the island, where there is hardly any current."
"How do we get there, sir?" asked Atherton. "The cliffs rise straight from the sea."
"There's a path leading to a cave, that in turn communicates with the sea. It used to be a favourite smugglers' haunt a century or more ago. Easy now, Green, we're nearly there."
The boat's forefoot grounded on the sand; Green jumped out and secured the painter, while the Scoutmaster and the Leader stowed the oars and sprang ashore.
"Here's the mast," said Mr Trematon, indicating a thirty-foot pole lying on the little stone quay. "I see Varco has rove some signal halliards—thoughtful man."
"It's a lump, sir," remarked Green. "How are we to get it into the boat? It will project ten feet at each end, and we will have no end of a job to row."
"I don't mean to place it in the boat. We'll tow it. Atherton, make this rope fast to that ring-bolt: we'll parbuckle the spar."
The Leader knew what his Scoutmaster meant. To push the mast over the edge of the quay would scratch the paint and roughen the wood. Making the end of his rope fast to a ring about a foot from the edge of the wharf, Atherton waited till Mr Trematon had performed a similar operation, the two ropes being twenty feet apart. Carefully the spar was rolled till it rested on the ropes, the "free ends" of which the Scoutmaster and Atherton held.
"Push the mast over the quay, Green," said Mr Trematon.
The pole, prevented from falling by the bights of the ropes, was now easily and slowly lowered into the water, and attached by its tapered end to the stern of the boat.
"That went smoothly enough, sir," said Green.
"Yes, two men can parbuckle a suitably-shaped object of thrice their combined weight. All the same it won't be such an easy task to haul the mast up the slope of Seal Island."
Upon landing on the Island, Atherton took the tapering end on his shoulder, Mr Trematon and Green supporting the heavier end.
"Don't keep step," urged the Scoutmaster, "or the mast will sway and possibly capsize us. Now, proceed."
It was no light work carrying the thirty-foot spar up the steep path, but dogged energy prevailed, and before it was half-past six the flagstaff was in position, ready for the hoisting of the Union Jack.
The first call on Hayes' bugle brought the Scouts from their tents. Baker and Pat Coventry, who overnight had been detailed for cooks, raced off' to construct earth ovens and light fires. Sayers, Scott, and Armstrong, the three Tenderfoots, marched off with buckets to bring a supply of water from the spring that the Scoutmaster had pointed out; Everest and Fraser took a boat and crossed to the mainland to procure milk, eggs and bacon from the farm; while the rest of the two patrols opened up tents and aired the bedding.
At seven, coffee and bread and butter were served out: not a standing meal, but merely a "stay" before breakfast. This was followed by prayers, then all hands fell in for bathing parade.
All except Atherton and Green were somewhat surprised when Mr Trematon led the way, not to the landing-place, but up hill in the direction of the ruined hermitage.
"What's that?" exclaimed young Armstrong, as a small brown animal with a tuft of white on its tail darted into a hole on the site of the path. "Why, I believe it's a rabbit."
"Look, there are dozens of them," added Everest, pointing to a hollow about two hundred yards off. "There they go as hard as they can."
"Yes, the Island is overrun with them, and so is most of Sir Gwinnear's estate. The farmers look upon them as a pest, and destroy as many as they can."
"Why pests, sir?" asked Phillips.
"Because they eat the grass that feed the sheep, nibble the young corn shoots, undermine hedges, and so on. Of course, they are not so numerous as in Australia, where agriculture is threatened with disaster by their depreciations. One day, Phillips, you can have a chance of shooting a few for our dinner. It will be necessary for you to get a gun licence before you can carry a gun. I'll see to that, however. But steady now: here's the entrance to our bathing cove."
"What, here, sir?" asked several of the lads in chorus, and in a tone of incredulity, for the place indicated by the Scoutmaster was a circular hole surrounded by a ruinous stone wall. "Yes: follow me. Mind where you tread. It's quite safe if you take reasonable precautions."
The shaft, a natural tunnel, was descended by means of a spiral path, in places less than three feet in width, a rusty iron handrail—a relic of the good old smuggling days—serving as a none too reliable protection.
At eighty feet from the summit a steeply shelving floor was reached, whence a long, irregular tunnel led seawards. For part of this distance the place was in almost total darkness, while the air was moist and chilly.
Presently the tunnel began to get lighter, and the rocky floor gave place to a carpet of smooth white sand, terminating at the water's edge.
"What a ripping bathing-place, sir," exclaimed Neale.
"Come on, lads, let's see who will be the first in," shouted Coventry major, hastily slipping off his scanty garments: an example that the others followed.
"Steady, boys," said the Scoutmaster. "Not so fast. I know that you can all swim more or less: but what precautions are you taking against accidents?"
"We're all together, sir," replied Coventry senior. "If needs be there is plenty of assistance ready."
"Quite so," assented Mr Trematon. "But that is hardly sufficient. I remember the case of a party of fifty soldiers bathing together. One of them suddenly sank without a shout, and he was not missed until the men paraded to march back to barracks. So I think we will have a boat out. The two Leaders and I will man the craft, and we can have our swim afterwards."
"A boat, sir? We will have to go back to the landing-place to fetch one."
"No need to do that. Come this way."
A few feet above high-water mark a side passage branched from the main tunnel, and within it was a small rowing boat about twelve feet in length, with oars and thole pins ready for use. A life-buoy and a length of rope lay under the sternsheets.
"This is one of Peter Varco's boats," said Mr Trematon. "He always keeps it here for the use of visitors who come to the place—Dollar Cove it is called—for bathing. He told me we could make use of it."
"Why is this called Dollar Cove, sir?" asked Basil Armstrong.
"They say a Spanish treasure ship was wrecked on the west side of Seal Island, and that her precious cargo was strewn over the bottom of the sea. Curiously enough the only coins ever washed ashore have been found at the mouth of this cove."
"Should we find any if we looked, sir?" asked Fraser.
"That I cannot say; but suppose instead of standing here in the cold we launch this boat?"
Soon the placid waters of the bathing-cove were disturbed by the splashing of the lads of the two patrols, and all were somewhat reluctant to hear Mr Trematon's voice calling for them to come and dress.
When the Scoutmaster and the Headers had had their swim the Scouts made their way to the top of the natural staircase, and, doubling, returned to the camp glowing with health and excitement.
Directly the bedding was replaced and the tents tidied, breakfast was served. The camp oven fires had been banked up, and a plentiful supply of hot water was instantly available. Eggs, boiled in salt water,—which, according to Mr Trematon's idea, were far more appetising than if done in fresh water—small flat loaves baked on hot ashes, and cocoa formed the repast.
"Whatever is the matter with you, Hayes?" asked Mr Trematon as the Scout gave a partly suppressed gurgle, rolled his eyes, and clutched his throat with both hands.
Without replying Hayes suddenly bolted, while the Scoutmaster and several of the Scouts followed to see what was amiss.
"The bread, sir," gasped Hayes, after several attempts to make him explain.
"The bread? What's wrong with it."
"It tastes horrible," replied the victim. "I feel awfully queer."
Just then young Coventry came running up, making similar grimaces to those of the first sufferer. He in turn was followed by little Reggie Scott, who, though undoubtedly equally as upset as his bigger comrades, kept himself more under control.
"It's the bread, sir," he announced, holding up half of one of the flat cakes. "I believe there's oil in it."
The Scoutmaster took the proffered bread and smelt it.
"You're right," he replied. "It is paraffin. What on earth have Baker and Pat Coventry been doing? Cheer up, you sufferers; you're not poisoned. Smile and look pleasant, and we'll hold a court-martial on the cooks."
Further examination revealed the fact that all the bread was tainted with the unpleasant odour of paraffin. On being questioned Pat Coventry replied that he took no part in making the dough, while Baker admitted that he had noticed an oily substance on the water when mixed with the flour.
"I skimmed it off, sir," he explained. "I didn't know that it was paraffin."
"Haven't you a nose? Why didn't you use your sense of smell?"
"I didn't think of it, sir."
"Well it cannot be helped now; another time, if you have any doubts, ask me. That's what I am here for," said Mr Trematon. "Serve out the biscuits, Atherton. The bread is useless. After breakfast we must find out how the paraffin got into the flour. But it's close on eight. Fall in."
The two patrols, staves in hand, lined up under their respective Leaders on either side of the flagstaff. The Union Jack was toggled to the halliards, and at the hour the ensign was slowly hoisted, while the Scouts stood alert and loyally saluted the Emblem of Empire.
"Sit easy!" ordered the Scoutmaster, and the Scouts sat down to listen to Mr Trematon's instructions.
"This is our first complete day in camp," he said, "and we can hardly hope to get into proper working order so soon. During the rest of the morning we must make more arrangements for our welfare. Coming in late last night we contented ourselves by merely pitching the tents. Had it rained, there would have been considerable discomfort on Seal Island, I fear. By this evening I hope to have the whole routine outlined, so that we may carry out our daily programme without a hitch. Simpson, I want you to take Armstrong and Hayes with you, cross to the mainland and purchase a sack of flour. Four of the 'Otters' will take spades and dig trenches round the tents and other holes where required. Four of the "Wolves" will attend on the cooks. and build a watertight hut for the kitchen. The rest of you can construct mattresses of bracken. You remember instruction was given on that subject only a few weeks ago. Now set to work and see how much you can do before one o'clock."
Calling the two cooks to accompany him, Mr Trematon walked over to the spot where the temporary ovens had been erected. A brief inspection showed the cause of the failure of the breakfast arrangements. In loading the boats for the journey across to Seal Island a can of paraffin had been dumped alongside the sack of flour, and the screw top of the former having worked loose a portion of the oil soaked into the flour.
During the rest of the morning the lads worked hard putting the camp in order. Trenches to drain the surface water in a possible heavy downpour of rain were dug round the tents; a mud and wattle hut, large enough to afford complete shelter for the cooks and their utensils, was erected; while a large tub was sunk in the little stream fed by the spring, so that a supply of fresh water was easily obtainable without having to make a lengthy journey to the fountain head.
The mattresses, too, were in a forward state. The frames of these were constructed of straight branches, the side pieces being five feet six inches in length, the head two feet, and the foot fifteen inches. By tapering the shape of the cots it was possible to arrange them systematically round the tent, so that each Scout slept with his feet towards the tent-pole. A coarse netting of thick twine filled the space between the cot frames, and through the meshes bracken was woven, forming a springy and comfortable couch, the frames being raised sufficiently to prevent the "sag," caused by the sleepers' bodies, from touching the ground.
For dinner, boiled bacon, cabbage and potatoes and suet pudding were provided, and the cooks of the day did themselves credit, as if to atone for the spoiling of the breakfast. True, Tom Mayne found a boiled caterpillar in his share of the cabbage, and Coventry minor all but swallowed a piece of string that had been mixed up with the suet, but as the Scoutmaster remarked such incidents are really blessings in disguise, since the lads afterwards carefully examined every portion of the dinner and thus prevented any undue haste in eating.
"It is certainly advisable that we should make ourselves thoroughly acquainted with our temporary domain," said Mr Trematon, after dinner was over. "It is now half past one. We will rest for half an hour and then set out for an exploration of Seal Island."