Returning to open waters, and skimming along the margin of the land, a magnificent butterfly is seen sailing along. 'It was very large, four inches across the wings, which are of a pale creamy colour, barred and margined with blue and black, velvety in appearance, and with a well-defined tail to each of its under-wings, above which is a red spot. This peculiarity of tail gives it the name of the swallow-tail butterfly; and it is one of the most beautiful as well as rarest species.' The yacht is run ashore; but Dick on making too bold a dash with his net, misses the insect. Frank seizes the net, and gives chase to another which had come sailing along. He follows it for a considerable distance, and then disappears, crying loudly for help. Poor fellow! he had fallen into a bog-hole, and was being rapidly sucked down into the mud; but preserving calmness, he tells Dick to bring a rope, while Jimmy flings him his coat; alas! it does not reach him; and Frank is sinking to the shoulders, when Jimmy, in desperation, doffs his unmentionables, and Frank holds on by the one leg, while he manages to keep a grasp of the other, and so supports his friend till, to their great relief, Dick appears with the rope. But so tightly is Frank stuck in the mud, that it takes a mighty effort on the part of the others to haul him out. This must have been a sad damper, for we find our adventurous trio making their way back to the Swan silently and thoughtfully—to young bright spirits it being dreadful to be thus brought so near to danger and death. Frank, however, had managed to secure the butterfly for his collection, and kept it safe in spite of his perilous position; and it was preserved specially as a memento of his narrow escape.
As a relief from the monotony of sailing, our young friends propose a game of 'Follow my Leader.' On leaping a hedge, Frank's foot caught the top, and over he fell, right down on a quail's nest, smashing some of the eggs, and wounding the mother, a poor trembling bird, 'about eight inches long, rather plump, of a gray colour, and shaped much like a guinea-fowl.' A fight between a hawk and a weasel next attracts attention; after a prolonged struggle, the hawk falls a victim; and the boys, on gaining the spot, carry off both animals, as an interesting addition to their museum.
The wind having risen, the Swan sails in grand style to Yarmouth, where she is made fast outside a row of wherries moored to the quay, while her crew go on shore to inspect the quaint Dutch-looking town, which has been so often compared to a gridiron. Our young voyagers had determined on the morrow to sail up Breydon Water; and off they set, notwithstanding that the gale had increased in severity and the lake was covered with crested foam. Not a sail is to be seen on the stormy water; yet the Swan bravely accomplished the dangerous passage, and with the exception of 'shipping' seas and other unavoidable mishaps, they reached the smoother waters of the Waveney in safety. Skimming along for some miles, they anchor near Beccles, where a finely wooded bank holds out enticement for naturalising. There a hawk's nest is found, and two of the young ones are captured, our young friends intending to take them home and train them for the old English sport of falconry.
The days and weeks fly quickly, and bring new enjoyments and treasures; but we have not space even to mention a tithe of the spoils.
It will be interesting, however, to add that when winter bound the broads with ice, our young friends hit upon the plan of fastening skates to the Swan, and so propelling her from place to place. Raised on runners like large iron skates, and with ordinary skates on each rudder for steering power, away sped the Swan over the ice after the manner of ice-ships in Canada; until the return of milder weather restored her to the waves—bringing to her owners new stores of information with each cruise.
Although it is not given to every boy to be one of such a merry crew as that of the Swan, or to have opportunity for adventures such as those so graphically pictured in this volume, still there are many who, possessing certain opportunities, pass through the world with their eyes metaphorically shut. Irrespective, therefore, of the practical hints for the employment of leisure time, here presented to those who are qualified to profit by them, the moral lesson taught is, that even in spots looked upon by the great generality of people as 'uninteresting,' Nature is lavish of her charms for those who will take the trouble to woo them.
FOOTNOTES:
[B] By Christopher Davies. London: Warne & Co.