"Where did you get them?" Whitney asked as he took the bag.
"Where do you think? When you're in doubt in a Scotch clachan, it's safe to try the change-house."
"I suppose that means the saloon," said Whitney. "Well, I suspected something of the kind."
Leaving the road outside the village, they struck across some wet fields and came to a marsh, through which a muddy creek wound crookedly. After jumping deep drains and floundering through rushes, they reached a steep bank of gravel, with a cut where the creek made its way to the sea. A mooring buoy floated in the channel; and across the channel lay a waste of sand, dotted with shallow pools. This ran seaward until it was lost in the haze.
An old shooting punt that Andrew had repaired lay upon the gravel and they dragged her down. As she was larger than usual and the big gun had been unshipped for the voyage, she would carry them all; though her shallow hull was deep in the water and the yacht some distance off. They had brought their ordinary shoulder guns on the chance of getting a shot at geese or duck. The village was about a mile away, and the spot looked strangely desolate; although a raised causeway, lined by stunted thorns, that ran back into the mist, seemed to suggest that a road came down to the sands across the creek.
Andrew took the long paddle when they pushed off, and the tide carried them away between muddy banks veined with tiny rivulets of water. In coming, soon after high tide, they had crossed the sands, following the line of beach, but now they must head seaward until they could round the end of the projecting shoal. Soon the banks got lower and the riband of water widened; and then a tall upright branch rose ahead of them.
"That perch is new since I was here last," Andrew remarked. "Who was the fellow you were talking to, Dick?"
"I don't know. He told me he had a boat at the burnfoot, but the fishing wasn't good."
They drifted on until a strong ripple broke the surface ahead. A small black object tossed in the disturbed patch.
"What's that?" asked Whitney. "Looks like a lobster trap."