For each canoe four men were required: a spearman, who was also the captain, a pilot, and two oarsmen. It fell to Hugh’s lot to be spearman of the first canoe, of which Bud Morgan was one oarsman, Cooper Fennimore the other, and Arthur Cameron the pilot. In the other canoe, manned by the Otters, Alec was pilot, Dick Bellamy spearman, Sam Winter and a tenderfoot being oarsmen.
Armed each with a light ash pole eight feet long with a soft pad on one end, the spearmen took their places on a little quarter-deck or raised seat in the bow of the canoe. On the other end of each spear was a hook made of a forked branch about a foot long, one limb being lashed to the pole, the other projecting out and slightly backward. Both ends of the pole were wrapped in waterproof, to keep it from getting wet and heavy. The padded end of the pole was intended for pushing the enemy from his stand upon the deck of the canoe, while the hook could be slipped behind his neck, if a quick change from pushing to pulling should be required.
“To push your opponent back into the canoe on one foot counts you five; both feet, ten,” said Denmead. “If he loses his spear, except when he may be pushed overboard, you count five. If you put him down on one knee on the fighting deck, you count five; two knees, ten. If you put him overboard, it counts twenty-five. One hundred points is a round, a battle, we’ll say, is two rounds.”
A cheer broke out, as the two canoes dipped lightly into the water and skimmed over its placid surface.
By this time, as luck would have it, the rain had ceased, and the lake shone like polished steel under a gray sky. The figures in the canoes were silhouetted sharply against it, as the light craft darted to and fro over the waters. Sam was a better paddler than Bud, but Bud’s slight clumsiness with the paddle was offset by Hugh’s superior deftness as a spearman; indeed, at the first encounter of the canoes, Hugh almost succeeded in pushing Dick Bellamy down on his knees, and was prevented from doing so only by Alec’s quick turns and returns.
Alec would fain have had Dick’s place and felt the grim satisfaction of contending with Hugh; but that was not to be, this time. Failing that, he did his level best to “put it all over poor old Bud,” as he expressed it to himself; and once he tried the trick of pretending to run his canoe accidentally against the Wolves’ when Dick had succeeded in hooking Hugh, thus making Hugh lose his balance and drop back into his canoe.
But Rawson, the keen-eyed umpire, declared this move a “foul,” and so the Otters did not win those ten points.
The battle lasted almost half an hour, at the end of which time the Otters won, owing to Alec’s skill as a steersman and Sam’s strong, even stroke which he so skillfully adapted to the tenderfoot’s. The next battle, between the Hawks and the Foxes, was not so long; it ended with Don’s laughable plunge into the bosom of the lake, a victory for the Hawks.
Amid cheers and shouts of encouragement, the canoe warriors returned to their cabins; and that afternoon the signaling games and practice were resumed. And thus, with alternate recreation and instruction, the days passed swiftly, bringing in their round the one eventful day when the members of the signal corps were to be chosen.