Before Alec knew it, the day's work was done, and the Bertha B was on her homeward way. In an old dead tree that stood by itself in the salt meadow Alec saw what looked like a mass of driftwood; but the captain said it was an osprey's nest. Alec studied the distant nest through a telescope the captain lent him. It was a huge thing, three or four feet in diameter, made of old sticks. Later still Alec saw an osprey soaring not far astern of the Bertha B. Even as he watched it, the huge bird suddenly tilted downward and fell like a plummet into the water. A moment later it rose from the waves, with a glistening fish in its talons. On every hand there seemed to be new and interesting things to see.
The next day Alec had his first touch of seasickness. The wind was blowing half a gale when the Bertha B reached the oyster grounds, and the little boat jumped about in a way that at first alarmed Alec considerably. But when he saw that the sailors regarded the movement of the ship as a matter of course, he forgot his fear. Soon he forgot almost everything else; for his head began to ache, and a feeling of nausea came over him. He had never felt worse in his life. He thought he was going to die but did not seem to care.
"What's the matter?" asked Sailor Bishop. "Getting sick? You look pretty pale."
"I won't get sick if I can help it," said Alec to himself. "I'm going to fight this thing off."
His head seemed to be in a whirl, and he was afraid to try to stand up, lest he be pitched overboard. So he knelt on the deck, braced himself against the movement of the ship, and kept working. Whenever he could, he straightened up and drew in a deep breath of the fresh, crisp air. The air made him feel better. He tried to think about his work and not about himself. And after a time he felt noticeably better. Before the day was past the feeling of nausea had left him entirely, and never thereafter did he suffer from seasickness.
Being a Friday, it was pay-day, though Alec did not know it. When the Bertha B again lay at her pier at the end of the day, the crew did not hurry ashore as they had done every other day, though the captain left the boat the instant she was fast. Presently he returned with a roll of bills in his hand. He counted out each man's pay and handed the money around. Then the sailors left fast enough. When they were gone, the captain turned to Alec.
"How much do you think I ought to pay you?" he asked.
"I don't know," said Alec. "I didn't make any bargain with you. I don't know what I ought to get."
"I'm going to give you ten dollars," said the captain. "You worked only four days. Next week, if you put in a full week, I'll give you more. The deck-hands on this boat get $17.50 a week, but I gave them $20 this week because they did a mighty good week's work. You'll get just as much as you make yourself worth. Captain Rumford pays his men well. If you keep on as good as you've begun, you'll soon be getting as much as any of the other hands."