After an early supper they climbed the eastern point. The sheep, which were feeding on its top, scampered off at their approach, their retreat covered by the ram, with shaking head. Nemo rushed, barking, after the flock, only to be butted ignominiously head over heels and to retreat, yelping, to the beach.
"Bully for Aries!" laughed Throppy.
"Who's Aries?" asked Percy.
"The ram, of course! Where's your Latin?"
"Never heard the word. Where do these sheep drink, anyway? Out of the spring?"
"No," replied Jim. "The dew on the grass gives them all the moisture they need."
Sandpeeps were teetering along the ledges below. Two seals bobbed their round, black heads in the surf at the promontory's foot. A mile to the south rose the spout of a whale.
"Many craft go by here?" inquired Budge.
"Plenty. Fishing-schooners, tugs with their tows, yachts, tramp steamers, sailing-vessels from the Bay of Fundy for Boston, and every little while a smack or power-boat. The ocean liners to Portland pass about fifteen miles south. So we oughtn't to be lonesome."
On the highest part of the point Throppy found a dead spruce about twenty feet tall, which he picked as a mast for his wireless. Its top would be at least sixty feet above the cabin, so he could talk over twenty-five miles. He had brought with him four hundred feet of copper bell-wire and a dozen or so cleat insulators. He cut two spruce spreaders, and strung his antennæ. Then he made a hole through the cabin wall, improvised an insulator out of a broken bottle, and a rough table out of a spare box, and was ready to install his batteries and instruments as soon as they should arrive.