“What’s wrong with this work?” inquired Bob. “I’m not finding any fault.”
“Probably not,” replied Ethan, dryly. “We’ll change our tune a spell, and see if we can’t do some thin’ for this other boy.”
Bob uttered no further protest, and Ethan at once sent the little skiff swiftly toward the shore. As it grounded upon the beach he said, “Now you two boys get out an’ wait for me here. I’ll be back pretty quick, an’ we’ll see what can be done.”
The boys obediently leaped ashore and then stood for a moment together as they watched their boatman. Ethan moved out near a low point and, dropping overboard his anchor, took a light little rod they had noticed in the boat, and began to fish. They could see him as he drew several into the boat, and then in a few minutes he came for the waiting lads.
“Wait a minute,” he said, as he drew the boat up on the beach. “I’m goin’ to do somethin’ else. I’m goin’ to have young Jock get a fish if such a thing is possible.”
Ethan walked up the shore, and the boys could see him as he darted in among the rushes, leaping about like a schoolboy. They could not perceive what his object was, but as they had implicit confidence in his ability, they remained contentedly where they were, and Ethan soon returned.
“There!” he exclaimed. “Neow if them fish don’t bite, it won’t be because we haven’t given ’em what they want for dinner. Get aboard, boys.”
The boys quickly resumed the places they had occupied, and their boatman once more began to row. “Don’t let out yer lines yet,” he said. “Wait till I’m ready for ye.”
Wondering what plan Ethan had in mind, the boys obeyed, and Ethan soon started toward another part of the bay. He glanced keenly about him and then peered over into the water. Apparently satisfied with his inspection, he let the anchor fall, and as the skiff swung around before the light wind and settled into position, he said, “Let’s have your lines, boys.”