“It was,” said Will, studying with angry eyes the rope which had baffled him.
After this they took a long tack which brought them once more into smoother waters above the cape. As the sun got higher the wind fell lighter, and at length Reube announced that it was time to get out the net. The mainsail was hauled down, and under a close-reefed jib the Dido lay to while the net was slowly and carefully paid out over the stern. The helm was so delicately manipulated that the floating net was not allowed to bunch, but formed its line of blocks into a wide, shallow crescent with the Dido at one horn. This accomplished, the remaining bit of canvas was furled and the long, slow process of “drifting” was fairly begun. The tide ran fast, and the shores a half mile distant slipped smoothly by. The rudder swung loose while Will and Reube ate their breakfast, and congratulated themselves on the sailing qualities of the Dido. After breakfast they basked in the sweet June sun, told stories, wondered idly if the net was capturing anything, grew sleepy, and at last began to get impatient. A great gray gull flew over, and Will raised his rifle. But he lowered it instantly.
“I was on the point of dropping that poor old grayback,” said he, penitently, “just for lack of something better to do.”
“I wondered why you were going to shoot it,” said Reube, “when I knew it was no good as a specimen.”
“I say,” exclaimed Will, a few minutes later, yawning, “this sun’s getting mighty hot! How long have we been drifting?”
“A little over two hours,” replied Reube.
“How long is one expected to drift?” asked Will.
“O, say four, or maybe five,” was the reply.
“Well, as this is just a sort of trial trip and picnic,” suggested Will, “I move we haul in the net and count our fish. Then we can sail round yonder point to a big creek I know of with a fine, shelving sand spit at its mouth. The sand is covered at high water; but about the time we get there it will be just right for you to go in swimming from. A swim will go fine this hot day, eh?”
“All right!” assented Reube. He was himself consumed with impatience to see what was in the net.