CHAPTER IX.
PLAYING AT BEING PIRATES—A STORM AT
SEA—THE WRECK.
Frank Fielding's life was not quite like his friend Fred's in one particular; for Frank could always have a holiday when he wanted one. His father was an easy-going, non-ambitious man; he possessed all the comforts of this world, and very much enjoyed them. If you had asked him about his son's prospects in life, he would have told you that he was pleased enough to let the boy enjoy himself; that very likely there was a career of some kind before him when he developed; but that meanwhile he left all his educational affairs to his—the boy's—mother.
Poor Frank! The mother might have been doing her best, but to keep constantly sending a lad from school to school was not advancing his interests.
Fred had only the regular holiday given at Scottish schools, the summer one being the chief, and indeed the only one worthy of the name, because it lasted for six weeks.
Well, anyhow, Frank had found a companion after his own heart, and Fred had found a real friend. It was almost strange, a psychologist would have thought, how very much those two lads had come to love each other in so short a time. It was in a good many ways a case of extremes meeting, but they had a deal in common nevertheless.
Both loved Nature most ardently, although Fred knew ten times more about the habits of the wanderers in wood and field than did Frank. Every wild flower he met was an old acquaintance of Fred's, and so was every bird that sang or did not sing.
Fred was a great bird-nester. But, mark this, he never took a single egg, far, far less a helpless fledgling. But he knew where they all built their nests or laid their eggs without ever bothering about building a nest, in forest, in mountain, on moorland, or by stream. There was no pine tree or larch high enough to prevent Fred from getting to the top thereof, and in Scotland these trees are at home, and grow their very tallest. He and Toddie had other friends in the wilds as well as birds, so numerous indeed that I begrudge space in which to name them. But there were bees of all kinds, and beetles of every hue and shape; there were frogs and toads, charming lizards and lovely great snakes. Not adders. Even in the heather Toddie was as often barefooted as not, because she preferred "feelin' around with her foots as Tippetty did." So she said, and Eean would not thwart her.
Well, during the holidays they had many a long day in the woods and wilds; other days were spent at sea in the yacht, where they played at being pirates, and ran down and pretended to capture fishing-boats, and once they even overhauled a Royal Navy cutter that was dodging off the point. Fred lowered sail and boarded her, and when asked what he wanted, he boldly pointed to a black flag with skull and cross bones that Frank had hoisted; told the bos'n he was "The Pirate of the Western Wilds," and he must submit to give up his craft and walk the plank. There was no little laughing at this; but finally the Water Baby was taken in tow, and the children spent a downright madcap afternoon with the sailors on board the cutter.
When it was getting near sunset farewells were said, and over the side went the pirates bold, the men giving them three cheers as their fairy-like yacht bore away for Methlin Bay.