“I’ll haul up the anchor and make sail, Uncle Isaac. You take the tiller. I want you to see how well she steers.”
“She works like a pilot-boat!” said he, after he had put her about; “and carries a little weather helm, which she ought to. A boat with a lee helm isn’t safe. She won’t luff quick enough to shake out a flaw. You have to let the sheet fly, and then she ain’t safe, because she loses her headway.”
They shot some birds, as the people there called sea-fowl, and, as the young flood began to make, towards night went on to a ledge Charlie had never seen before. There was a part of this ledge that was never covered with water. On it was a great quantity of dry eel-grass and logs, that had come out of the river, and been flung up by high tides.
They hauled the boat out, took down her masts, and covered her up in eel-grass. Uncle Isaac then wet the seal, so that it would present that shiny appearance seals have when they come out of the water. Then they piled eel-grass on slabs laid over a log, crawled under it, and ate their supper. Towards sunset, Uncle Isaac began to make a noise like a seal, and Charlie was astonished at the accuracy of the imitation, and actually shrank, as though a real animal was beside him. He would cry first like an old seal, then like a young one. By and by one seal after another showed their heads above water, and some of them replied. After a while, they swam up to the rock, and began to crawl towards the decoy; but before they reached it, Uncle Isaac gave the signal to fire, and three of them lay dead on the rock.
“They will come here no more to-night, nor for many a month,” said Uncle Isaac, rising up, and flinging off the sea-weed. “It was a long shot, but we’ve done well.”
Charlie had been all day on the eve of making a communication to Uncle Isaac, but somehow or other could not muster courage. He thought he should do it while they were coming along, but didn’t. Then he was quite sure he should while they were under the eel-grass; but that excellent opportunity passed away unimproved. It was now or never. Charlie was glad there was no moon. He almost wished there were no stars. He managed to get Uncle Isaac to steer, while he sat on the after thwart, back towards him.
“Uncle Isaac—” A long pause.
“Well, what is it, Charlie?”
“Have you seen Fred lately?”
“Yes.”