FISH THEY CAUGHT IN THE GULF OF MEXICO.
It was no wonder, then, that the three thought that a happier time was coming. Smiling, sunny skies above them, clear, buoyant, salt water under them, a tried and true ship their home, and a ship’s company that could be absolutely relied upon. What more was to be desired?
The night was divided into four watches of four hours each, and Kenneth went on deck to take the first trick from eight to twelve.
And so the young fresh-water sailors passed the first night on the briny deep. A peaceful, restful, invigorating night, that marked the beginning of a new series of experiences.
Arthur went on at midnight (eight bells), and Frank, in turn, relieved Arthur at four o’clock (eight bells of the morning watch). It was Frank, then, who put his head into the after hatch and roused “all hands” at six o’clock, which Arthur and Kenneth called an unholy hour.
“I wonder if there are any sharks around?” said Arthur, as he stood on the dew-wet deck looking overboard. “Gee! that water looks tempting. Here goes!” Almost with a single sweep of his hands he had pulled off his duck jumper and trousers, and the last words ended in a gurgle as he hit the water.
“Beat you in,” was Frank’s only comment to Kenneth, who came on deck that minute. It was a dead heat. As for sharks, the thought of them did not enter the heads of the three boys, as they ducked and dove, splashed and swam, shouted and squealed, with pure delight. It would have upset the equilibrium of any self-respecting shark; at any rate, none made their appearance that day.
It was a very airy costume that the crew wore that morning while they scrubbed down decks, coiled down tackle, cleaned out “His Nibs,” and put the little ship to rights generally.
Kenneth and Arthur got the “Gazelle” under way, while Frank went below to get breakfast. The course was shaped for Biloxi, Mississippi, and the yacht settled down to the two days’ run. The wind was fair and true, and the yacht, spreading out her wings, sped between the many islands that dotted the waters, and picked her way through the intricate channels daintily. They anchored off Barrell Key that night, and made the acquaintance of two fishermen—Austrians—whose lugger was anchored close by. The boys accepted their invitation to fish with them next morning, and while they did little more than contribute considerable looking on, they got a good mess of fish. These Frank speedily turned into an appetizing breakfast, the incense from which was still rising when the boys bid their fishermen friends good-by. In a very short time the mast of the lugger had dwindled to a matchstick, and the swift, rakish little hull disappeared below the horizon.