"You did splendidly, Colin," began his father. "Why, what's the matter?" he continued in alarm, as the boy sank back in his seat, looking pale and sick.
"I'm a bit done up, that's all," the boy answered, gasping. His hands were trembling so that he could not hold the rod, and his face was ashen.
"Buck fever, I suppose?"
"Yes, sair; he's all right in a minute," said the boatman. "It does zat every little sometimes, Major Dare. I've seen even ze old angler get very much tired out after ze strain."
"It's the reaction," said Colin's father, as he laved the boy's forehead, and just as Vincente had said, in a moment or two the color came back into the lad's cheeks and he straightened up.
"Silly to act like that," he said. Then, seeing his father's look of concern, he added, "I feel as though I'd like some grub."
Kindly refraining from increasing the boy's embarrassment by commenting on his exhaustion spell, the older man reached for the basket and handed out a package of sandwiches. Two hours of excitement and exertion in the hot sun, following a very early breakfast, had affected Colin
sharply, but boy-like, he was always ready for eating.
"That was what I wanted," he said, as a few bites disposed of the first sandwich and he took another.
The boatman nodded approvingly.