When anything happened to Mun Bun or his sister Margy they always called for Daddy or Mother Bunker. The other children did the same thing, though of course Margy and Mun Bun, being the youngest, naturally called the most, just as they were the ones who were most often in trouble that needed a father or a mother to straighten out.
"Our island's getting terrible small," said Margy; "and the water's gettin' deeper all around us."
"Yes," agreed Mun Bun, as he got in the middle of what was left of the circle of sand and looked about. "The water is deep. I guess I'd better call!"
"I'll help you," said Margy.
The two children stood in the center of thesandy island that was all the while getting smaller because the tide was rising and covering it, and they called:
"Daddy! Mother! Daddy Bunker! Come and get us!"
They called this way several times, and then waited for some one to come and get them.
If you want to imagine how Margy and Mun Bun looked, marooned as they were on an island in the middle of Clam River, with the tide rising, just get a big, clean stone and put it down in the middle of your bathtub. If you try this you had better put a piece of paper under the stone, so it will not scratch the clean, white tub.
Then on the stone put two other little stones to stand for Margy and Mun Bun. Now put the stopper in the tub and turn on the water. You will see it begin to rise around the stone, and soon only a little of it will be left sticking out of the water.
"Daddy! Mother! Daddy Bunker! Come and get us!"
Now Margy and Mun Bun did not have very strong voices, and, besides, though theywere not far from one part of the shore, it was quite a distance to Cousin Tom's house, where their father and mother were at that moment. Also, the wind was blowing their voices away, and over toward the other shore of Clam River, where at this time no one lived.
But the two little Bunkers did not know this, and they kept on calling for their mother or father to come to get them. But neither Daddy nor Mother Bunker answered.
And the water kept on rising, for the tide was coming in fast, and it was going to be high.
Now it happened, just about this time, that Mr. Oscar Burnett, the lobster fisherman, was coming up the inlet in his motor-boat. He had been out to sea to lift his lobster-pots and he had been waiting at the entrance of Clam River for the tide to make the water deep enough for him to come up. On days when the tide was not so low he could come up all right, even at "slack water." But this time the channel was not deep enough for his motor-boat and he had to wait.
And as he puffed up, steering this way andthat so as not to run on sand bars, he heard, faintly, the cries of Margy and Mun Bun.
Having good ears, and knowing the cries must be near him, Mr. Burnett looked about.
He saw the place where the island was now almost hidden from sight because of the rising waters, and he saw the two children, Margy and Mun Bun, standing there, their arms around each other, crying for help, and also crying real tears. For they were very much frightened.
"Well, I swan to goodness!" exclaimed the lobster fisherman. "There's those two children again, and this time they're marooned 'stead of being adrift! Yes, sir! They're marooned!"
I used that word once before and I forgot to tell you what it means, so I'll do so now. It means, in sailor talk, being left alone on an island without any way of getting off. Sometimes pirates used to capture ships, take off the passengers and set them on an island without leaving a boat. And the poor passengers were marooned. They could no more get off than could Margy and Mun Bun.
"Marooned! That's what they are!" said Mr. Burnett. "I'll have to go over and get 'em, just as I got 'em when they drifted down the inlet in the boat. I never saw such children for getting into trouble!"
Not that Mr. Burnett thought it was too much trouble to go and get Margy and Mun Bun off the island where they were marooned. Instead, he was very glad to do it, for he loved children. So he steered his motor-boat over toward what was left of the island—which was very little now, as the tide was still rising. Then the lobster fisherman called:
"Don't be afraid, Mun Bun and Margy! I'll soon get you! Don't be afraid. Just stand still and don't wade off into the deep water."
"DON'T BE AFRAID! I'LL SOON GET YOU!" SAID MR. BURNETT."DON'T BE AFRAID! I'LL SOON GET YOU!" SAID MR. BURNETT.Six Little Bunkers at Cousin Tom's.—Page174
The island was shaped like a little hill, high in the middle, and Margy and Mun Bun had kept stepping back until they now stood on the highest part in the middle.
All about them was the water, deeper in some places than in others. And you may be sure that the little boy and his sister did not try to get off the high spot. There thewater was only over their feet, but if they stayed there much longer it might cover their heads.
However no such dreadful thing happened, for Mr. Burnett steered his boat up to them until it grounded in the sand of the island that was now under water.
"Now you're all right!" said the kind man. He shut off his motor and jumped over the side of the boat. Right into the water he stepped, but as he had on high rubber boots he did not get his feet wet.
Mr. Burnett picked up Margy and set her down in his boat.
"Oh, look at the big lobsters!" cried the little girl. "Will they pinch me?"
Well might she ask that question, for the bottom of the boat was filled with lobsters with big claws, some of which were moving about, the pinching parts opening and shutting.
"They won't hurt you," said Mr. Burnett with a laugh. "Just keep up on the seat, Margy, and you won't get pinched."
The seats in the lobster boat were broad and high, and on one of them Margy andMun Bun, who was soon lifted off the island to her side, were safe from the lobsters, which Mr. Burnett had taken from his pots, some miles out at sea.
"How did you come to go on the island when the tide was rising?" asked the fisherman, as he started his boat once more.
"The water was low, and we waded out barefoot," explained Margy.
"We were goin' to dig clams," added Mun Bun.
"But we couldn't find any," continued Margy. "And then when we went to wade back home the water got deep and we were afraid."
"I should think you would be!" replied the lobster fisherman. "Well, I'm glad I heard you call. It wouldn't be very nice on your island now."
The children looked back. Their island was out of sight. It was "submerged," as a sailor would say, meaning that it was under the water. For the tide had risen and covered it.
"Will you take us home?" asked Margy.
"That's what I will," said the lobster fisherman. "I'll take you right up to Mr. Bunker's pier. I guess your folks don't know where you are, nor what trouble you might have been in if I hadn't come along just when I did."
And this was true, for neither Daddy nor Mother Bunker, nor Cousin Tom nor his wife, nor any of the other little Bunkers had heard the cries of Mun Bun and Margy.
But as the motor-boat went puffing up to the little wharf the noise it made was heard by Mr. and Mrs. Bunker, who ran down from the cottage to see it, as they wanted to buy a fresh lobster and they had been told that Mr. Burnett might soon come back from having gone to lift his pots.
"Well, I had pretty good luck to-day," said the old fisherman, as he stopped his boat at the pier, and pointed to Margy and Mun Bun. "See what I caught!"
"Margy!" cried her mother, in great surprise.
"Mun Bun!" exclaimed the little boy's father.
"Did you go out in a boat again?" asked Mrs. Bunker.
"Oh, no'm, we didn't do that!" said Mun Bun quickly.
"We just waded over to the little island," said Margy. "But somebody poured water in the river, and it got high and we couldn't wade back again."
"They were marooned in the middle of Clam River for a fact! That's what they were!" said Mr. Burnett. "But I heard 'em yell, and I took 'em off. Here they are."
"You must never wade out like that again," said the father of Mun Bun and Margy. "This river isn't like ours at home. An island there is always an island, unless floods come, and you know about them. There is a tide here twice a day and what may seem a safe bit of sand on which to play at one time may be covered with water at another. So don't go wading unless you ask your mother or me first."
"We won't," promised Mun Bun and Margy.
Then Mr. Bunker thanked Mr. Burnett and after the lobster had been bought the fisherman puffed away in his boat, waving a good-bye to the children he had saved from being marooned on the island.
Mun Bun and Margy had to tell their story over again several times and they had to answer many questions from their brothers and sisters, about how they felt when they saw the water coming up.
Of course the two smallest of the six little Bunkers had been in some danger, though if Mr. Burnett had not seen them and rescued them, some one else might have done so. But it taught all the little Bunkers a lesson about the dangers of the rising tide, and if any of you ever go to the seashore I hope you will be careful. If you live at the shore, of course you know about the tides.
As the August days went on, the children played in the sand and had many good times. Often they would pretend to be digging for gold, as they had heard Sammie Brown tell of his father having done, but they had given up hoping to find any.
"But we might find my locket," said Rose.
"And we might find that queer box the tide washed away before we could see what was in it," said Russ. "I wish we could find that."
Often he would walk along the beach looking at the driftwood and other things cast up by the waves and hope for a sight of the mysterious box.
"If we'd only seen what was in it we wouldn't feel so bad," said Rose. "But it's like a puzzle you never can guess."
One evening Daddy Bunker came home from the village with some round tin boxes.
"What's in 'em?" cried Violet, always the first to ask a question.
"Let's guess!" proposed Laddie. "Maybe I can make up a riddle about 'em."
"I know what's in them," said Russ. "I can read it on the box. It's marshmallow candies."
"Oh, are we going to have a marshmallow roast on the beach?" cried Rose.
"Yes, that's what we are going to have," her father said.
"Oh, hurray! Hurray! Hurray!" cried the six little Bunkers.
Have you ever toasted marshmallow candies at the seashore beach? If you have you need not stop to read this part of the story. But if you have not, from this and the next page you may learn how to do it.
In the first place you need three things to have a marshmallow roast, and you can easily guess what the first thing is. It's a box of the white candies. Then you need a fire, and, if you are a little boy or girl, it will be best to have your father or mother or some big person make the fire for you, as you might get burned.
Then you need some long, pointed sticks on which to hold the marshmallow candies as you toast them. If the sticks are too short you will toast your fingers or your face instead of the candies.
"Have you got lots of marshmallows, Daddy?" asked Rose, as she and the other children gathered about their father.
"Plenty, I think," he answered. "We don't want so many that you will be made ill, you know."
"I can eat a lot of 'em without getting sick," declared Laddie.
"I like 'em, too," said Vi. "Where do the marshmallow candies come from, Daddy?" she asked.
"From the store, of course!" exclaimed Laddie.
"No, I mean before they get to the store," went on the little girl. "Does a hen lay the marshmallows, same as chickens lay eggs?"
"Oh, no!" laughed Daddy Bunker. "Marshmallow candy is made from sugar and other things, just as most candies are."
As the six little Bunkers, with their father and mother and Cousin Tom and his wife, walked down to the shore of the sea, which was light from the beams of a silvery moon, Laddie said:
"I have a new riddle!"
"Is it about marshmallows?" asked Vi.
"No. But the candies made me think of it," replied her brother. "It's about a fire."
"What is your riddle about a fire?" asked Cousin Ruth, who always liked to hear Laddie ask his funny questions.
"Where does the fire go when it goes out?" Laddie asked. "That's my riddle. Where does the fire go when it goes out?"
"It doesn't go anywhere," declared Russ. "It just stays where it is."
"Part of it goes away," declared Laddie. "Where does it go? Where does the hot part go when the fire goes out?"
"Up in the air," said Rose.
"Off in the ocean!" exclaimed Mun Bun, who really did not know what they were talking about.
"Does it, Daddy?" asked Laddie.
"Why, I don't know," said Mr. Bunker. "It's your riddle; you ought to know what the answer is."
"But I don't," admitted Laddie. "I made up the riddle, but I don't know what the answer is. If some of you could think of a good answer it would be a good riddle."
"Yes, I guess it would," agreed Mrs.Bunker. "This is the time you didn't think of a good one, Laddie. A riddle isn't much good unless some one knows the answer."
Perhaps some of you who are reading this story can tell the answer.
Down on the beach went the six little Bunkers. There was a bright moon shining and here and there were other parties of children and young people, some going to have marshmallow roasts also, and some who only came down to look at the ocean shining under the silver moon.
Mun Bun and Margy, with Violet and Laddie, raced about in the sand, while Russ and Rose helped their father and Cousin Tom gather driftwood for the fire. There was plenty of it, and it was dry, for it had been in the hot sun all day.
"What makes the sand so sandy?" asked Vi, as she sat down beside her mother and Cousin Ruth and let some of the "beach dust," as Daddy Bunker sometimes called it, run through her fingers.
"That's a hard question to answer," laughed Mother Bunker. "You might as well ask what makes the moon so shiny."
"Or what makes the water so wet," added Cousin Ruth. "Oh, you are such a funny little girl, Violet!"
"What makes me?" asked Vi.
"I suppose one reason is that you ask so many funny questions," said Cousin Ruth. "But there, Daddy has lighted the fire, and we can soon begin to roast the marshmallows."
On the beach, near Russ and Rose, where they were standing with their father and Cousin Tom, a cheerful blaze sprang up. It looked very pretty in the moonlight night, with the sparkling sea out beyond.
"Can we roast 'em now?" asked Laddie, as he got ready one of the long, pointed sticks.
"Not quite yet," said his father. "Better to wait until the fire makes a lot of red-hot coals, or embers of wood. Then we can hold our candies over them and they will not get burned or blackened by the blaze. Wait a bit."
So they sat about the fire, while Daddy Bunker and Cousin Tom piled on more wood. The boxes of the candies had been opened, so they would be all ready, and each of theten Bunkers had a long, sharp-pointed stick to use as a toasting-fork.
"I guess we are ready now," said Daddy Bunker, after they had listened to a jolly song sung by another party of marshmallow roasters farther down the beach. "There are plenty of hot embers now."
Cousin Tom poked aside the blazing pieces of driftwood and underneath were the hot, glowing embers.
"Now each one put a candy on a stick and hold the marshmallow over the embers," said Daddy Bunker. "Don't hold it still, but turn it around. This is just the same as shaking corn when you pop it, or turning bread over when you toast it. By turning the marshmallow it will not burn so quickly."
So, kneeling in a circle about the fire, the six little Bunkers, and the others, began to roast the candies. But Margy and Mun Bun did not have very good luck. They forgot to turn their marshmallows and they held them so close to the fire that they had accidents.
"Oh, Mun Bun's candy is burning!" cried Rose.
"And Margy's is on fire, too!" added Russ.
"Oh, that's too bad!" cried Mother Bunker. "Never mind," she said, as she saw that the two little tots felt sorry. "I'll toast your candies for you. It's rather hard for you to do it."
Mrs. Bunker's own candy was toasted a nice brown and all puffed up, for this is what happens when you toast marshmallows. So she gave Mun Bun and Margy some of hers, and then began to brown more.
The other children did very well, and soon they were all eating the toasted candies. Now and then one would catch fire, for sugar, you know, burns faster than wood or coal. But it was easy to blow out the flaming candies, and, if they were not too badly burned, they were good to eat.
"Oh, look at the little dog!" cried Rose, as she put a fresh marshmallow on her stick. "He smells our candy! May I give him one, Daddy?"
"Yes, but give him one that isn't toasted. He might burn himself on a hot one. Whose dog is he?"
"He just ran over to me from down there," and Rose pointed to some boys and girlsabout another fire farther down the beach, who were also roasting marshmallows. The dog seemed glad to be with Rose and his new friends, and let each of the six little Bunkers pat him. He ate several candies and then ran back where he belonged.
"Oh, he was awful cute!" exclaimed Vi. "I wish we could keep him. Couldn't we have a dog some time?"
"Maybe, when we get back home again," promised Mother Bunker.
The marshmallow roast was fun, and even after the candies had all been eaten the party sat on the beach a little longer, looking at the waves in the moonlight.
"Now it's time to go to bed!" called Mother Bunker. "Margy and Mun Bun are so sleepy they can't keep their eyes open. Come on! We'll have more fun to-morrow!"
"I'm going crabbing off the pier," declared Russ. "There's lots of crabs now, Mr. Burnett says."
"Yes, August is a good month to catch crabs," returned Cousin Tom.
"I'm going fishing," said Laddie. "Can you catch fish off your pier, Cousin Tom?"
"Oh, yes, sometimes. But don't catch any Sallie Growlers."
"What's a Sallie Growler?" asked Vi, before any one else could speak.
"Oh, you'll know as soon as you catch one," laughed her cousin. Then he picked up Mun Bun, who was really asleep by this time, and carried him up to the house, while Daddy Bunker took Margy, whose eyes were also closed.
True to their promises Russ and Laddie went down to the little boat wharf the next morning after breakfast. Russ had the crab net and a chunk of meat tied to a string. Laddie had a short pole and line and a hook baited with a piece of clam, for that was what fishermen often used, Cousin Tom said.
"Now we'll see who catches the first fish!" exclaimed Laddie, as he sat down on the pier.
"I'm not fishing for fish, I'm fishing for crabs," said Russ.
"Well, in this race we'll count a crab and a fish as the same thing," returned Laddie. "We'll see who gets the first one."
The boys waited some time. Now and then Russ would feel a little tug at his line,as if the crabs were tasting his bait, but had not quite made up their minds to take a good hold so he could pull them up and catch them in the net. And the cork float on Laddie's line would bob up and down a little as though he, too, had nibbles. But neither of them had caught anything yet.
Suddenly Laddie felt a hard tug, and he yelled:
"Oh, I got one! I got one! I got the first bite!"
He yanked on his pole. Something brown and wiggling came up out of the water and flopped down on the wharf. At the same time a little dog that had run up behind the two boys and was sniffing around, gave a sudden yelp.
"What's the matter?" cried Russ.
"He's bit by a Sallie Growler! The Sallie Growler you caught bit my dog on the nose!" exclaimed another boy and he began striking at the brown thing Laddie had caught, which was now fast to the nose of the dog that had been eating marshmallows the night before.
Laddie dropped his fishing-pole. Russ let go of his crab-line, and they both stood looking at the dog and at the strange boy. The dog was howling, and trying to paw off from his nose a queer and ugly-looking fish that had hold of it. It was the fish Laddie had caught and which the boy had called a "Sallie Growler."
"Cousin Tom told us about them last night," thought Russ. "I wonder why they have such a funny name, and what makes 'em bite so."
But he did not ask the questions aloud just then. There was too much going on to let him do this.
The dog was howling, and the new boy was yelling, at the same time striking at the fish on the end of his dog's nose.
"Take him off! Take off that Sallie Growler!" yelled the boy.
But the brown fish Laddie had caught looked too ugly and savage. Neither of the little Bunkers was going to touch it and the new boy did not seem to want to any more than did Russ or Laddie.
As for the dog, he could not help himself. The fish had hold of him; he didn't have hold of the fish.
Finally, after much howling and pawing, the dog either knocked the fish off his nose, or the Sallie Growler let go of its own accord and lay on the pier.
"Poor Teddy!" said the boy as he bent over his pet to pat him. "Did he hurt you a lot?" The dog whimpered and wagged his tail. He did not seem to be badly hurt, though there were some spots of blood on his nose.
"I guess he'll be all right if the Sallie Growler doesn't poison him," said the boy. "How'd you come to catch it?" he asked, looking from Laddie to Russ.
"I didn't want to catch it," said Laddie. "I was fishing for good fish and I got a bite and pulledthatup!" and he pointed to theugly brown fish that lay gasping on the boards.
"Is it a Sallie Growler?" asked Russ.
"It is," said the new boy. "And they can bite like anything. Look how that one held on to my dog's nose."
"I hope he isn't hurt much," put in Laddie. "I didn't mean to do it."
"No, I guess you didn't," said the other boy. "Nobody ever tries to catch a Sallie Growler. They're too nasty and hard to get off the hook. 'Most always they swallow it, but this one didn't. He dropped off just as you landed him and then my dog came along and smelled him—Teddy's always smelling something—and the fish bit him."
"Do you live around here?" asked Russ.
"Yes, we're here for the summer. I guess I saw you down on the beach last night roasting marshmallows, didn't I?"
"Yes, and we gave your dog some," returned Laddie. "What's your name?"
"George Carr. What's yours?"
"Laddie Bunker."
"Mine's Russ," said Laddie's brother. "Oh, look! I guess I've got a crab!"
He ran to where he had tied the end of his string to a post of the pier, and began to pull in. Surely enough, on the end was a big blue-clawed crab, and, with the help of Laddie, who used the net, the creature was soon landed on the pier.
"Here! You keep away from that crab!" called George Carr to his dog Teddy. "Do you want your nose bit again?"
And from the way the crab raised its claws in the air, snapping them shut, it would seem that the shellfish would have been very glad indeed to pinch the dog's nose. But Teddy had learned a lesson. He kept well away from the gasping Sallie Growler, too.
"What makes 'em be called Sallie Growler?" asked Laddie, as he and Russ looked at the fish. It was very ugly, with a head shaped like a toad, and a very big mouth.
"I don't know why they call 'em Sallie," said George; "but they call 'em Growler 'cause they do growl. Sometimes you can hear 'em grunting under the water. There goes this one now!"
Just as he spoke the fish did give a sort ofgroan or growl. It opened its mouth, gasping for breath.
"They're no good—worse than a toad fish!" exclaimed George, as he kicked the one Laddie had caught into the water.
"Are there many around here?" asked Russ.
"Yes, quite a lot in the inlet," answered George. "They don't bite on crab-meat bait, but if you're fishing for fish they often swallow your hook, bait and all. I don't like 'em, and I guess Teddy won't either after to-day."
"Was he ever bit before?" Laddie wanted to know as the dog lay down on the pier and began to lick his bitten nose with his tongue.
"Not that I know of," answered George, who was a little older than Russ. "Once is enough. I wouldn't want one to bite me."
"Me, neither," added Russ. "Want to help catch crabs?" he asked George. "I have two lines and you can have one."
"Thanks, I will. I was out walking with my dog and I saw you two down on this pier. I came to see if you were the same boys that gave my dog marshmallows last night."
"Yes, we're the same," answered Russ. "Did he like the candy we fed him?"
"Oh, sure! He always eats candy, but he doesn't get too much at our house. Teddy's always smelling things. That's how he came to go up to the Sallie Growler. I guess he'll let the next one alone."
"I hope I don't catch any more," said Laddie. "I don't like 'em."
"Nobody else does," said George. "We come to the seashore every year, and I never saw anybody yet that liked a Sallie Growler."
Laddie, Russ and their new chum stayed on the pier for some time. Russ and George caught quite a number of crabs, and Laddie had fine luck with his fish-pole and line, landing three good-sized fish on the pier. He caught no more Sallie Growlers, for which he was thankful. I guess Teddy was, too, for his nose was quite sore.
For several days after that George came over each morning to play with the two older Bunker boys. He brought his dog with him and Teddy made friends over again with Rose and Violet and Margy and Mun Bun, as well as with Russ and Laddie.
"I guess he 'members we gave him candy," said Margy, as she patted the dog's shaggy head.
There were many happy days at Seaview. The six little Bunkers played in the sand, they went wading and bathing and had picnics, more marshmallow roasts and even popcorn parties on the beach.
"I don't ever want to go home," said Laddie one night after a day of fun on the beach. "This is such a nice place. It's so good to think up riddles."
"Have you a new one?" asked his father. "Have you thought up an answer yet to where the fire goes when it goes out?"
"Not yet," Laddie answered. "But I have one about what is the sleepiest letter of the alphabet."
"What is the sleepiest letter of the alphabet?" repeated Russ. "Do you mean the letter I? That ought to be sleepy 'cause it's got an eye to shut."
"No, I don't mean I," said Laddie. "But that's a good riddle, too, isn't it? What's the sleepiest letter of the alphabet?"
"Do you know the answer?" Rose wantedto know. "This isn't like the fire riddle, is it?"
"No, I know an answer to this," Laddie said. "Can anybody else answer it?"
They all made different guesses, and Vi, as usual, asked all sort of questions, but finally no one could guess, or, if Mother and Daddy Bunker could, they didn't say so, and Laddie exclaimed:
"The sleepiest letter of the alphabet is E 'cause it's always in bed; B-E-D, bed!" and he laughed at his riddle.
"That is a pretty good one," said his mother.
"You ought to say what are the three sleepiest letters in the alphabet," declared Russ, "'cause there are three letters in bed."
"Oh, well, one is enough for a riddle," said Laddie, and I think so myself.
One day the children saw Daddy Bunker and Cousin Tom putting on long rubber boots, and taking down heavy fishing-poles and some baskets.
"Where are you going?" asked Russ.
"Down to fish in the surf," answered his father. "Want to come?"
Russ and Laddie did. Rose and Violet were already trying to catch crabs further up the inlet. Margy and Mun Bun had gone to take their afternoon nap.
Laddie and Russ played about on the beach while their father and Cousin Tom began to fish, throwing the heavy sinkers and big hooks far out in the surf, trying to catch a bass. The men had to stand where the waves broke, and that is why they wore rubber boots.
Suddenly Laddie, who had run down the beach to watch a big piece of driftwood come floating in, called:
"Oh, Russ! Come here, quick! Here is a fish that's got legs! It's a fish that can walk! It's worse than a Sallie Growler! Come and look at it!"
Russ at first thought his smaller brother was playing a joke.
"You can't fool me," cried Russ. "I don't want to guess any of your riddles!"
"This isn't a riddle!" declared Laddie. "It's a real fish, and it's got real legs. Come and look at it!"
He was pointing to something on the beach, which seemed to have been washed in by the tide.
"Come on!" cried Laddie again. "It isn't a riddle—honest! It's a fish with legs. I didn't see him walk, but it sort of—sort of stands up!"
Still Russ was afraid of being fooled. So he called over to his father and Cousin Tom, who were fishing in the surf not far away.
"Daddy, is there a fish with legs? Laddie says he's found one on the beach."
"Well, you might call 'em legs," answered Cousin Tom, as he flung his hook and sinker as far as he could out into the ocean. "I guess what Laddie has found is a skate."
"But he says it's a fish!" exclaimed Russ. "Now you call it a skate! I guess you're both trying to make up riddles."
"No, Russ," said his father, as he reeled in his line. "The fish Laddie sees, and I can see it from where I stand, really has some long, thin fins, which are like legs. And the name of the fish is 'skate,' so you see they are both right. Come, we'll go and look at it."
And when Russ got to where Laddie was standing over the queer creature on the beach he had to laugh, for surely the fish was a very queer one.
"Isn't it funny?" asked Laddie.
"I should say so!" cried Russ. "It's as funny as some of your riddles."
And if any of you have ever seen a skate at the seashore I think you will agree with Russ. Imagine, if you have never seen one,a fish as flat as a flounder, with a flat, pointed nose sticking out in front. Away back, under this nose, and out of sight from the top, or the back of the fish, is its mouth. And the mouth is rather large and has sharp teeth.
Fastened to the back of the skate is a long, slender tail, like that of a rat, only larger, and between the tail and the round, flat body on the under side, are two things that really look like legs. Perhaps the skate may use them to walk around on the bottom of the ocean, as a horseshoe crab uses his legs for walking. But a skate can also swim, and in that way it comes up off the bottom, and often bites on the hooks of fishermen who do not at all want to catch such an unpleasant fish.
The skate swims, using the things like legs as a fish uses its fins, and sometimes, when landed on the shore, the fish really seems to be standing up on these legs, so Laddie was not so far wrong. On each side of the skate were thin, flat fins, which were something like wings. The skate had a humpy head and big, bulging eyes.
"What's a skate for?" asked Russ, as he looked at the queer creature.
"And who gave it that name?" Laddie wanted to know.
"My! You two are getting as bad at asking questions as Violet!" laughed Mr. Bunker. "Well, I'll answer as well as I can. I don't know how the fish came to be called a skate unless it sort of skates around on the bottom of the ocean. Though when a skate is dead its tail curls up and around like the old-fashioned skates once used in Holland. It may get its name from that."
"Are they good to eat?" asked Russ.
"Some kinds are said to be," answered Cousin Tom, "though I never tasted one myself. I have heard of fishermen eating certain parts of the skates caught along here. But I never saw any one do it. Whenever I catch a skate I throw it back into the water. I can't see that they are good for anything."
The skate which Laddie and Russ were watching, and which seemed to have been cast up on the beach by the waves, was flopping about, now and then raising itself on itsqueer legs, until, finally, the tide came up higher and washed it out into the sea again.
"I guess it's glad to get back in the ocean," said Russ.
"Yes," agreed his brother. "I'd have put it back in only I was afraid it might bite me."
"No, I don't believe it would," said Cousin Tom.
"There's heaps of funny things down at the seashore," said Laddie, as he watched to see if the skate would swim back, but it did not.
"Lots of funny things," agreed Russ.
"The shore is a good place to make riddles," went on Laddie.
"And it's a bad place to lose things," said his brother. "Look how Rose lost her locket."
"Yes, that was too bad," said Daddy Bunker. "I'm afraid we shall never find that now. There is so much sand here."
"We've dug holes and looked all over," said Russ, "but we can't find it."
"I wish we could find that box we had up on shore and that the waves came up andwashed away," remarked Laddie. "Don't you 'member the box you were going to open, Daddy?"
"Yes, I remember," answered Mr. Bunker. "I would like to know what was in that. But I don't suppose we ever shall."
"And I guess we'll never get back Vi's doll that I lost," said Russ. "But when I get back home I'm going to save up and buy her another."
"That will be a nice thing to do," replied Mr. Bunker. "Of course Violet has, in a way, forgotten about her doll, but I'm sure she would like to have you get her another."
"And I will!" exclaimed Russ. He did not even dream how soon he was to do this.
"Well," said Cousin Tom, after the skate had been washed out to sea, "I don't believe, Daddy Bunker, that we are going to have any luck fishing to-day. I think we might as well go back to the bungalow and see what they have to eat."
"I hope they didn't count on us bringing some fish," said the father of the six little Bunkers with a laugh. "If they did we'll all go hungry."
"I don't want to be hungry," murmured Laddie, with a queer look at his father.
"Oh, he's only joking," whispered Russ. "I can tell by the way he laughs around his eyes."
"Yes, I'm only joking," said Laddie's father. "I guess Cousin Ruth will have plenty to eat. We'll walk along the beach a little way and then go home."
The two men reeled in their fish lines and, with the two little boys, strolled along the sand. Laddie and Russ were wondering what they could do to have some fun, and they were thinking of different things when Cousin Tom, who was a little way ahead, cried:
"Look! Isn't that a box being washed up on the beach?"
They all looked and saw something white and square being rolled over and over in the waves nearest the shore. It was quite a distance ahead of them, but Cousin Tom, handing his pole and basket to Daddy Bunker, ran and, wading into the surf with his high rubber boots, caught hold of the box.
"It shan't get away from us this time!" hecalled to Daddy Bunker, Russ and Laddie as they hastened toward him. "I'll keep it safe this time, all right!" and he carried the box well up among the sand dunes, or little hills, well out of reach of the highest tide.
"Why do you say 'this time'?" asked Daddy Bunker. "Did you ever pull in this box before?"
"Indeed I did, or, rather, one of us did. This is the same box the children found once before; don't you remember? This time we'll find out what is in this box for sure. And we won't wait for a hammer, either. I'll use a piece of driftwood."
As Daddy Bunker and the two boys gathered around the box they saw that indeed it was the same one that had been cast up before by the waves.
What could be in it?
Cousin Tom had said he was not going to wait for a hammer to open the box, and he was as good as his word. When he had carried the box well up on the beach, out of reach of even the highest waves, he looked about for a piece of driftwood that he could use in knocking the cover off the case. And while he was thus searching, Daddy Bunker, Russ and Laddie examined the box.
"It looks just like the same one," said Russ.
"I'm positive it is," added his father. "I remember the size and shape of the other box and this is just the same. And there were two funny marks in the wood on top, and this has the same marks."
"There was a piece of paper tacked on the other box," said Russ. "That isn't here now."
"That was soaked off in the water and washed away," said his father. "But you can still see the four tacks, one for each corner of the card. I suppose that had some address on but it was washed off by the salt water."
"What made the box come back to us?" asked Laddie, as Cousin Tom came walking along with a heavy stick he was going to use as a hammer to open the case.
"Well, no one knows what the sea is going to do," replied Daddy Bunker. "It washes up queer things and takes them away again. I suppose this has been floating around for some time—ever since it was washed away from us the time we thought we so surely had it."
"It may have been washed up on the beach in some lonely spot a little while after we last saw it," said Cousin Tom. "And it may have been there ever since until the last high tide, when it was washed away again and then I happened to spy it just now. But it will not get away again until we open it."
Using the piece of heavy driftwood he had picked up as a hammer, Cousin Tom soonbroke the top of the box that had drifted ashore. He pulled back the splintered pieces and eagerly they all looked inside. The box was about two feet long and the same in height and width, and all Laddie and Russ could see at first was what seemed to be some heavy paper.