They found the anchor where it had been placed, with the rope broken part way out, and this told the story as well as words could have.
And so camp was made close by the boat belonging to the fish poachers, which it must be their duty to guard, so that later on they could make use of the same in order to escape from the island.
The waves did not go down as rapidly as the boys would have liked, and when high noon came they were still rolling along in a way that was dangerous to any small craft, especially on such a great inland sea as Superior is, with harbors few and far between.
Thad admitted that the chances of their getting away that day did not look good to him. Giraffe was the only real cheerful fellow in the party, and as he superintended the cooking of the delicious white fish for lunch he was heard to express his opinion several times.
"Well, one thing good about it is that there's enough fish on the ice down in that well to last us till Christmas; and it's to be hoped that somebody with a boat comes along before then, to take us off; or we can get this chunky craft of the poachers to working some. But let me tell you, that same fish does smell grand to me. Needn't make a face, Bumpus, because you think you'll never eat fish again. It's either that or go hungry with this crowd."
"But the white fish, like all other delicate fish, is only at its best when eaten on the spot where it's caught," Thad told them; "putting it on ice for days hurts the flavor, and sometimes it's just as tasteless as so much sawdust."
"Then this one was fresh caught," Giraffe affirmed, as he looked hastily about, took up the last bit that was in the second pan, and asked: "anybody want this; if nobody else does, I'm Johnny on the spot."
"Well, I declare, I like that!" burst out Step Hen; "did you see him swing that pan around, and before a fellow could even open his mouth to say yes, he had that last big piece in his tin dish. Oh! well, since you've got to be filled up, or you get to growling, go ahead and bolt, it; only look out for bones. If one ever got fastened in that rubber neck of yours, Giraffe, nobody's fingers could ever reach it. And as hard luck would have it, I left my fish disgorger at home."
Giraffe never minded this sort of talk, for he was making away with the last of the fish with his usual speed.
"Bones never trouble him at all," remarked Bumpus, who was always telling about dreaming of choking to death on a fish-bone.