Seal_Island3.jpg
Seal_Island3.jpg
[Illustration: "'Look here, young gentleman, can you give me any information as to what occurred?'"—Page27.]
[Illustration: "'Look here, young gentleman, can you give me any information as to what occurred?'"—Page27.]
"You'llbe sure to get the Bronze Cross, Dick," exclaimed his chum, Phil Green, as he paused in his work of varnishing a tail-board to critically admire his handiwork.
"Don't talk rot," replied Atherton, for the congratulations of his fellow-scouts were beginning to be embarrassing. "Don't talk rot, and get on with your work. We've only four clear days, and this trek-cart is nothing like finished."
The lads were hard at work in the old gym. The place reeked of elm sawdust and varnish, for sixteen Scouts were all busily engaged in constructing a cart.
"What did it feel like when you jumped of the bridge?" asked Fred Simpson, the Leader of the "Wolves."
"I cannot explain; I simply dropped," replied Atherton. "Perhaps if I had hesitated, I might have funked it. But dry up, you fellows, I've had enough. Come on, Baker, are those linchpins finished yet?"
"The papers made a pretty fine story about you, Dick," said Green, returning to the charge. "'The Scout and the Baronet,' the report was headed. Funny that it was Sir Silas Gwinnear you rescued, wasn't it?"
"You'll be funnier still if you don't hurry up with that coat of varnish," exclaimed the Leader, with mock severity. "Stick to it, man; we want to be able to show Mr Trematon something by the time he returns."
Just then Jellyboy stalked in.
"Mr Atherton, you're wanted at once in the Head's study."
Atherton hurriedly washed his hands, smoothed his hair and donned his blazer over his Scout's uniform. It was the custom for the lads to wear their uniform during their work in the gym., after "prep." was over; but for the first time on record was a Scout in full war-paint summoned to see the Head. The Rev. Septimus took particular pains to avoid sending for any of his pupils except when in their ordinary clothes; but on this occasion the warning was evidently urgent.
"Come in," said the Head, briskly. "Atherton, this is Sir Silas Gwinnear."
The Scout could hardly recognise the stranger as the same person he had rescued. Sir Silas under ordinary everyday conditions was a tall, thin-featured man with grey hair and beard. He bore the stamp of a self-made merchant, for he was somewhat showily dressed, an obtrusive gold watch-chain of old-fashioned make with a heavy seal, a massive signet ring and a thick scarf-pin being the outward signs of his opulence. His manner was pompous; but in his deep-set grey eyes there lurked the suspicion of a kindly nature.
"Ah, good evening, Atherton," exclaimed the Baronet, rising and shaking the Scout's hand. "I am out and about, you see, thanks to your bravery, my dear young sir. I took the first opportunity of calling and thanking you personally for what you have done for me."
"I only did my duty, sir."
"And did it well, too, I declare. To get to the point, Atherton: I am a man of few words, but you will not find me ungrateful. If at any future time I can be of assistance to you don't hesitate to ask. I flatter myself that I have a fair share of influence. Meanwhile I don't suppose you will object to having a little pocket-money. School-boys, I believe, are always fond of tuck."
So saying, Sir Silas thrust his hand deep into his trousers' pocket and fished out a fistful of gold and silver coins. From these he selected five sovereigns and offered them to his youthful rescuer.
Atherton drew himself erect.
"No, thank you, sir," he said firmly but politely. "I cannot take the money."
"Cannot take the money!" repeated Sir Silas, hardly able to credit his sense of hearing. "Why not?"
"I am a Scout, sir, and a Scout is not allowed to receive any reward for doing a good turn."
"A Scout! Bless my soul, so you are!" exclaimed the Baronet, as his eyes noticed for the first time the lad's knotted handkerchief showing above his buttoned-up blazer, and his bare knees. "I am afraid I am not in sympathy with the Scout movement," he added bluntly.
"We have recently formed a troop as a kind of experiment," explained the Rev. Septimus, apologetically. "But I must admit, Sir Silas, that I have had no reason up to the present to regret my decision in granting Scouts to be enrolled from my pupils."
"Atherton's refusal to take a small present surprises me," said the Baronet. "Is that rule strictly adhered to?"
"I know very little about the rules and regulations of Scoutcraft," replied the Head. "Perhaps Atherton can answer your question."
"Well, is it?" asked Sir Silas abruptly. "Yes, sir," replied the Scout, rather relieved to find that the conversation had turned into a channel that was more to his liking than being the object of embarrassing congratulations.
"H'm. The upkeep of the movement costs money, I suppose. How do you manage? I always thought Scouts cadged to meet their expenses."
"No, sir, we are not allowed to cadge. That is also against regulations. We are self-supporting."
"How?"
"To take our own case, sir, all our pocket-money is paid into the troop funds at the beginning of the term. We have to be thrifty, that is also an obligation. We all do something to add to the funds."
"I gave the permission, Sir Silas," remarked the Head. "In a commercial training school like Collingwood College I think that judiciously supervised earnings tend to develop commercial instincts and teach lads the value of money at an age when they are apt to disregard it."
"That is so," agreed the baronet. "'Take care of the pence,' you know. But suppose, Atherton, a sum of money was presented to the troop funds, what would you do then?"
"Our Scoutmaster, Mr Trematon, could answer the question better than I, sir," replied the Scout.
"Trematon? Is he here? That's strange. He wrote to me the other day. I thought the name Collingwood College seemed familiar, but until this moment I failed to connect the two circumstances. He asked me to allow him to take a party of Scouts to my place in Cornwall—to Seal Island."
"Yes, sir."
"And I refused. I gave my reasons. I suppose you fellows called me all sorts of uncomplimentary names, eh?"
"Oh, no, sir. We were disappointed, of course. Mr Trematon was too, for he loves Cornwall, so he tells us. Now we are going to Southend instead."
"I suppose you wouldn't mind if I altered my decision?"
"Indeed, sir, it would be ripping," replied Atherton, enthusiastically.
"Well, I will write to Mr Trematon on the matter to-morrow," declared Sir Silas. "If you won't accept a pecuniary reward perhaps I can pay off a portion of my debt of gratitude to you in another way. All the same," he added, with a touch of pomposity, "I wish it to be clearly understood that the objections I have expressed to Mr Trematon I still believe in: but since you refuse any pecuniary reward I think I am justified in making this offer. I suppose there is no reason why you should decline this slight concession?"
"Thank you very much, sir," replied Atherton warmly. "In the name of the troop I thank you."
"No need for that," said Sir Silas grimly. "The troop, whatever that is—I suppose it has something to do with Scouts—has to thank you, not me. I will write to Mr Trematon this evening on the matter."
As soon as Leader Atherton was dismissed he ran as hard as he could out of the schoolhouse, and crossed the playground and burst excitedly into the old gym.
"I say, you chaps," he exclaimed, "it's all right after all. Sir Silas Gwinnear has reconsidered his decision and we have permission to camp out on Seal Island."
The roof echoed and re-echoed to the hearty cheer the Scouts raised, while little Reggie Scott, the Tenderfoot of the "Otters," showed his enthusiasm by attempting to dance a hornpipe on the back of the vaulting horse. His efforts came to an abrupt conclusion, and he rose from the floor dolefully rubbing the back of his head, while his comrades were unable to restrain their mirth.
In the midst of the uproar the Scoutmaster entered.
"What's all this, boys?" he inquired. "More play than work it looks like; and only a few days more before we go to Southend, and our preparations are not half made."
"No need to trouble about Southend, sir," said Fred Simpson, in an excited tone. "Atherton has seen Sir Silas, and we can go to Seal Island."
"Atherton has seen Sir Silas?" repeated Mr Trematon. "Come, Atherton, let me hear all about it."
"It is rather a pity that Sir Silas gives his consent under these conditions," he continued when the Scout had related what had occurred in the Head's study. "A gift grudgingly bestowed is but half a gift. No matter, lads; Atherton has made a good impression as a Scout, and I feel certain that the rest of us will leave no stone unturned to convince the baronet that Scouts are not what he imagines them to be. So it is to be Seal Island after all. I am glad, and I think you will agree with me that the possibilities of a thoroughly enjoyable fortnight under canvas are far greater there than at Southend. It was lucky I called in to see how you were getting on, for I meant to buy the tickets to-night. But now, lads, stick to your work, for I see there is still much to be done. Work first and play afterwards—and talk if you can without hindering each other."
For the next two days preparations were hurriedly yet methodically pushed forward. On the Friday the school broke up, the day boys and most of the boarders bidding goodbye to their studies for seven long weeks. Of the boarders who remained all belonged to the Scouts, and formed two patrols.
The "Otters," with Dick Atherton as Leader, were composed of Jack Phillips, Second; Phil Green and Tom Mayne, 1st class Scouts; Will Everest and George Baker, 2nd class Scouts; and Jim Sayers and Reggie Scott, the Tenderfoots.
The "Wolves" were made up of Fred Simpson, Leader; Harry Neale, Second; Jock Fraser, Arnold Hayes and Vernon Coventry, 1st class Scouts; Pat Coventry, 2nd class Scout; and Basil Armstrong, Tenderfoot. Little Dick Frost, the other Tenderfoot of the "Wolves," and one of the keenest of the troop, was the only one who was unable to go camping. His mother had written to the Head saying that as she considered her son a delicate lad, she did not wish him to run unnecessary risks by sleeping in the open. Even the Rev. Septimus smiled when he read the epistle, for Dick was really one of the toughest of a hardy set of lads.
Sir Silas kept his promise by writing to Mr Trematon, confirming the permission he had given to Atherton. In the letter he enclosed a railway pass to Wadebridge for seventeen persons, available for fifteen days.
"No doubt the laws of your organisation will permit you to accept the enclosed," he wrote. "Don't thank me, thank young Atherton. As regards Seal Island, I have written to my bailiff informing him that you are to have uninterrupted possession of the place for a fortnight. There are springs of fresh water, but fuel you will have to obtain from the mainland. Dairy produce is to be had of Trebarwith, the farmer who lives just outside Polkerwyck. You can shoot as many rabbits as you like, on the estate, but remember that the sea-birds are not to be killed or molested. Not only is it an offence against the law to kill birds, being close season, but I am strongly adverse from seeing these creatures harmed, so I sincerely trust that you will take strong measures to carry out my wishes in this respect. Should my keepers report any violation of this condition I will immediately give orders for your lads to quit the island."
Sir Silas' gift had relieved the Scouts of any possible pecuniary difficulty. For months they had put aside their pocket-money, paying into the troop funds for the purpose of defraying the cost of the camp training. For example, Tom Mayne and Coventry major earned sixpence a week for weeding the Head's garden. This sum was promptly paid in. Simpson and Everest had each won prizes in competitions organised by a leading boys' journal. In each case the articles were sold and the sums received added to the general fund. Every lad had done his utmost, and enough had been raised to pay for the railway fares. But there would be very little left when the expenses were met, and now the baronet's generous gift had made it possible for the Scouts to have a splendid holiday and still keep a balance in hand.
On the eve of the momentous journey to the west country, Leaders Atherton and Simpson, on behalf of the two patrols, sprang a little surprise upon their Scoutmaster. Unknown to Mr Trematon the Scouts had purchased a quantity of second-hand, yet serviceable, canvas, and from this they constructed a really smart and well-made ridge-tent suitable for one person. This they presented to the Scoutmaster as a token of appreciation from the "Otters" and the "Wolves."
For their camp equipment the Scouts had to exercise their wits. Their trek-cart was completed; their kit bags packed and stowed; their cooking utensils, truly Spartan in simplicity, were ready; but so far as sleeping accommodation was concerned the lads fully expected to have to construct rough shelters of brushwood and heather. Almost at the last moment the Scoutmaster of another North London Troop came to the rescue. The Collingwood College lads had more than once done his Scouts a good turn, and the opportunity arrived for their services to be reciprocated. The troop in question had just returned from a fortnight under canvas at Shoreham, and acting on their Scoutmaster's suggestion the Scouts lent three large bell-tents to the "Otters" and the "Wolves."
At length the eventful day arrived. The Scouts, all in full marching kit, fell in to be finally inspected by the Head. The trek-cart, filled to its utmost capacity, was placed in charge of Sayers and Armstrong—to be duly noticed and admired by the Rev. Septimus, who, a skilful amateur carpenter himself, always encouraged his pupils to take up carpentering for a hobby.
"Now, boys, I wish you all a very pleasant holiday," exclaimed the Head. "I have every reason to believe that you will do your best to enjoy yourselves and at the same time to keep up the credit of Collingwood College—and of the Scouts. I trust that you will have good weather, and that you will return safe and sound and ready to resume your studies with renewed keenness when the time comes. I will say no more, except perhaps that I wish I were coming with you."
The Scouts cheered at the last remark. They appreciated the Head's envy, but at the same time they were secretly glad that he wasnotaccompanying them. There was a certain austerity about the Rev. Septimus that acted as a barrier betwixt master and scholar, a barrier that, out of school hours, did not exist between Mr Trematon and the lads.
The Head stepped up to Mr Trematon and shook hands.
"Scouts!" exclaimed the Scoutmaster. "Patrols right—quick march!"
The first stage of the long journey to Seal Island had begun.
Itwas four o'clock in the afternoon when the Scouts detrained at Wadebridge, the termination of their railway journey. Seven miles of hilly country separated them from the village of Polkerwyck. The afternoon was hot and sultry, there was no wind to cool the heated atmosphere; but braced up by the attractiveness of their novel surroundings the lads thought lightly of their march.
By some unexplained means the news of their impending arrival forestalled them, and at the station two Cornish troops, with drum and fife bands, awaited them. With typical kind-heartedness their west country brother-Scouts regaled their London visitors with tea, Cornish cream, pasties and other delicacies for which the Duchy is noted, while to still further perform their good turns they insisted upon dragging the camping party's trek-cart for nearly five miles.
It was a delicious march. Everything seemed strange to the visiting Scouts, and novelty was one of the chief delights of the holiday. The wild, moorland country, the quaint stone cottages, stone walls in place of hedges, the broad yet attractive dialect of the villagers, and last but not least their wholehearted hospitality, filled the lads with unbounded delight, while Mr Trematon, being in his native county, was as enthusiastic and light-hearted as his youthful companions.
The shadows were lengthening as the "Otters" and the "Wolves" breasted the last hill. The lads had relapsed into comparative silence. The strangeness of their surroundings so filled them with keen joy that they could only march in subdued quietness and feast their eyes on the natural beauties of the country.
Suddenly Fred Simpson, who headed the march, stopped, and, raising his stetson on the end of his staff, gave a mighty shout. His example was followed by the others as they gained the summit of the hilly road. Almost beneath his feet, and extending as far as the eye could see, was the sea, bathed in all the reflected glory of the setting sun. Not one of the Scouts had previously seen the sun set in the sea: their knowledge of the seaside was confined to the Kentish and Essex coast towns where the orb of day appears to sink to rest behind the inland hills.
On either hand dark red cliffs cut the skyline, forming the extremities of Polkerwyck Bay. The headlands, fantastic in shape, reared themselves boldly to a height of nearly three hundred feet. On the easternmost point, appropriately named Beware Head, stood a tall granite lighthouse, the stonework painted in red and black bands. On the western headland—Refuge Point—stood the white-washed houses of the coastguard station. Between the headlands was Polkerwyck Bay, the village giving it its name nestling on either side of a small tidal estuary, and enclosed by a gorge so narrow and so deep that the Scouts imagined that they could throw a pebble from the road upon the stone roofs of the picturesque cottages.
Of the estuary, and separated from the land by a stretch of deep blue water, lay what appeared to be a small rock.
"Where's Seal Island, sir?" asked Atherton, who was the first to find his tongue.
"There," replied the Scoutmaster, pointing to the rock.
"Why, it's ever so small," cried several of the Scouts in a chorus.
"Large enough for us, lads," replied Mr Trematon with a hearty laugh. "Objects look deceptive when viewed from a height. Now, then, fall in! Sayers, Scott, Pat Coventry and Armstrong, follow the trek-cart with the drag ropes. You will want to keep it well in check going down the hill. Patrols—quick march!"
Down the zig-zag hill the Scouts made their way; at every step Seal Island seemed to get larger and larger, till at length the lads halted in the main and only street of Polkerwyck, where they were surrounded by all the available population: men, women and children to the number of about eighty.
"Welcome back to Polkerwyck, Mr Trematon, zur," exclaimed a hale, grey-headed fisherman, picturesquely attired in sou'wester (although the day was hot), blue jersey, tanned canvas trousers, and heavy sea-boots.
"Thanks, Peter Varco," replied the Scoutmaster, heartily shaking the old man's hand. "I am glad to see you again. You look just the same."
"Sure us old 'uns keep powerful hearty in these parts, Mr Trematon. Thanks be, I be middlin'. These be the Scouts, eh? Likely lads they be, although I reckon as they bain't up to our Cornish lads, eh, Mr Trematon? Squire's man, Roger Penwith, he comed down to see I yesterday. Says 'e, 'Squire has written to say Mr Trematon's Scouts are a' comin' to Seal Island, and Squire wants 'em looked after prop'ly-like.' 'Trust I to do my part,' says I, and sure enow I have a-done. ThePride of Polkerwyck—you'll remember 'er, Mr Trematon—is at your sarvice, an' the three small craft as well; so when you'm ready to go over along, them boats is ready."
"Thank you, Varco," said the Scoutmaster. "The sooner we get to the Island the better, for it is past sunset."
"And Roger Penwith 'e 'as placed a load or two o' firewood close alongside the landin' place, Mr Trematon. Thought as 'ow you'd be wantin' it."
"Good man, Mr Penwith!" ejaculated Mr Trematon. "We can find a place to store this cart, I suppose?"
"Sure there'll be a sight of room in yon hut," replied the fisherman.
"Unload the trek-cart, lads," ordered the Scoutmaster. "Keep each patrol's belongings apart. Atherton, will you take charge of one boat; Simpson, another; load the heavy gear into the third boat, and Phillips and Green will assist me in taking her across."
Hither and thither the Scouts ran, each with a set purpose, while the on-lookers watched with admiration as the baggage was unloaded and the trek-cart bundled at the double into the hut.
"Have you a key to the door, Mr Varco?" asked Everest, with characteristic caution, after the cart had been housed.
"Key, young man? What do 'e want wi' a key for, might I make so bold as to ax? Sure, us be all honest men in these parts," said Varco, in a tone of mingled reproof and pride.
At length the three boats were manned, and the Scoutmaster gave the word to push off and give way. Thanks to his early training Mr Trematon was thoroughly at home both on and in the water, and he had developed particular pains to instruct his lads in the art of managing a boat, till the style of the Collingwood College Scouts on the Highgate Pond became a subject of envy to most of the other troops in the district.
It was a ripping row. The only fault that the Scouts had to find was that it was far too short. The water was as calm as a mill-pond, although a faint roar betokened the presence of the customary ground-swell on the shore beyond the bay.
The Scouts landed in a sandy cove in the south-eastern side of the Island, where a winding footpath, that showed little signs of frequent image, wound its way up in a zig-zag fashion to the higher ground. The baggage was carried ashore, and the lads, having secured the boats' painters, prepared to convey their goods to the camping-place.
"You are not going to leave the boats like that, are you?" asked Mr Trematon.
"Aren't they all right, sir?" said Leader Simpson, inquiringly. "I made sure each painter was properly made fast with a clove-hitch, sir."
"Yes, that's all very well, but it is not good enough. You forget the rise of tide, which here exceeds fifteen feet at springs. Besides, it might come on to blow in the night, and even though the Island is sheltered from on-shore winds there would be sufficient swell to smash the boats to splinters. We must haul them well above high-water mark."
Back trooped the Scouts, and, taking up positions all round the first boat, tried to drag her up the steep incline; but as soon as the craft was clear of the water it was evident that the task was beyond them. The boat was heavily built, and all hands could not lift her forward another inch.
"Now what is to be done?" demanded Mr Trematon, with a view of testing the Scouts' practical knowledge.
"Put her on rollers, sir," suggested Jock Fraser.
"A good idea, but where are the rollers?"
"We can use our staves, sir."
"And spoil them by the rubbing of the boat's iron-bound keel. That would only be advisable in a case of necessity. To make use of the oars is open to a similar objection. Open that stern locker, Fraser. You'll find a powerful tackle there, if I'm not mistaken. Ah! There it is, and I can see a post driven in on purpose for hauling boats up."
The upper block was soon placed in position, and Fraser was about to bend the painter to the lower block when the Scoutmaster again called him to order.
"Won't do," he exclaimed. "You'll more than likely pull the stem out of her. Look at her forefoot, Fraser: do you see a hole bored through it?"
"Yes, sir," replied the Scout.
"Very well, then. There's a short iron bar in the locker. Thrust that through the hole and bend the block to it by this rope. That's it: now we can haul away, and the keel will take the strain. Four of you keep the boat upright and the rest tail on to the tackle."
By this means the heavy craft moved slowly arid surely, and was at length hauled above the line of dead seaweed that denoted the level of high-water spring tides. The remaining boats were treated in the same way, and the Scouts were free to proceed to the camping-ground.
Before ten o'clock the tents were pitched, a roaring camp fire threw its comforting glow upon the scene, and the two patrols were discussing their hard-earned and frugal supper with commendable avidity that betokened a healthy mind in a healthy body.
"Now, lads," exclaimed the Scoutmaster, as soon as the meal was concluded, "we must turn in. It has been a long day for us, and I don't suppose the majority of you will sleep very soundly the first night under canvas. But no talking, mind. There is a time for everything, and if talking is kept up those who might otherwise be able to sleep will be disturbed. Good-night!"
"Anyoneawake?" enquired Mr Trematon softly, thrusting his head through the partially unlaced opening of the tent, where the eight "Otters" were lying like the spokes of a wheel, each lad's feet towards the tent-pole.
"I am, sir," replied Atherton and Green.
"Slip on your things and come out. I've a little job for you."
Without hesitation the two lads obeyed, and were soon blinking in the early morning sun. It was just after five o'clock—réveillé was to be at half-past six.
The air was keen and the dew still thick upon the short grass. The village of Polkerwyck was yet in shadow, for the sun had not risen sufficiently high to throw its slanting beams upon the deep-set hamlet. But already there were signs of activity, for several of the fishing boats that had been out all night had just returned and were landing their cargoes for conveyance to the nearest railway station. So still was the air that the reflections of the frowning cliffs and the deep browns of the tanned sails were faithfully reproduced in the placid water. The morning mist still lingered on the hill-tops, and drifted in ill-defined patches across the headlands that defined the limits of the bay.
"Best part of the day, sir," said Atherton cheerfully, as he surveyed the scene of tranquillity.
"It is," assented Mr Trematon. "It makes one pity the sluggards who never see the sun rise. But I want you two to come with me across the Polkerwyck. Old Varco promised he'd have an old boat's mast ready for use as a flagstaff, and I want to commence our first day on Seal Island by saluting the flag."
It was now nearly high tide, and thanks to the steepness of the shore there was little difficulty in launching the smallest boat. The Scoutmaster steered, while Atherton and Green rowed.
"Isn't the water clear," said Green, looking over the side. "I wish we could have a bathe."
"All in good time," replied Mr Trematon. "There's a splendid bathing cove just past that point of the island, where there is hardly any current."
"How do we get there, sir?" asked Atherton. "The cliffs rise straight from the sea."
"There's a path leading to a cave, that in turn communicates with the sea. It used to be a favourite smugglers' haunt a century or more ago. Easy now, Green, we're nearly there."
The boat's forefoot grounded on the sand; Green jumped out and secured the painter, while the Scoutmaster and the Leader stowed the oars and sprang ashore.
"Here's the mast," said Mr Trematon, indicating a thirty-foot pole lying on the little stone quay. "I see Varco has rove some signal halliards—thoughtful man."
"It's a lump, sir," remarked Green. "How are we to get it into the boat? It will project ten feet at each end, and we will have no end of a job to row."
"I don't mean to place it in the boat. We'll tow it. Atherton, make this rope fast to that ring-bolt: we'll parbuckle the spar."
The Leader knew what his Scoutmaster meant. To push the mast over the edge of the quay would scratch the paint and roughen the wood. Making the end of his rope fast to a ring about a foot from the edge of the wharf, Atherton waited till Mr Trematon had performed a similar operation, the two ropes being twenty feet apart. Carefully the spar was rolled till it rested on the ropes, the "free ends" of which the Scoutmaster and Atherton held.
"Push the mast over the quay, Green," said Mr Trematon.
The pole, prevented from falling by the bights of the ropes, was now easily and slowly lowered into the water, and attached by its tapered end to the stern of the boat.
"That went smoothly enough, sir," said Green.
"Yes, two men can parbuckle a suitably-shaped object of thrice their combined weight. All the same it won't be such an easy task to haul the mast up the slope of Seal Island."
Upon landing on the Island, Atherton took the tapering end on his shoulder, Mr Trematon and Green supporting the heavier end.
"Don't keep step," urged the Scoutmaster, "or the mast will sway and possibly capsize us. Now, proceed."
It was no light work carrying the thirty-foot spar up the steep path, but dogged energy prevailed, and before it was half-past six the flagstaff was in position, ready for the hoisting of the Union Jack.
The first call on Hayes' bugle brought the Scouts from their tents. Baker and Pat Coventry, who overnight had been detailed for cooks, raced off' to construct earth ovens and light fires. Sayers, Scott, and Armstrong, the three Tenderfoots, marched off with buckets to bring a supply of water from the spring that the Scoutmaster had pointed out; Everest and Fraser took a boat and crossed to the mainland to procure milk, eggs and bacon from the farm; while the rest of the two patrols opened up tents and aired the bedding.
At seven, coffee and bread and butter were served out: not a standing meal, but merely a "stay" before breakfast. This was followed by prayers, then all hands fell in for bathing parade.
All except Atherton and Green were somewhat surprised when Mr Trematon led the way, not to the landing-place, but up hill in the direction of the ruined hermitage.
"What's that?" exclaimed young Armstrong, as a small brown animal with a tuft of white on its tail darted into a hole on the site of the path. "Why, I believe it's a rabbit."
"Look, there are dozens of them," added Everest, pointing to a hollow about two hundred yards off. "There they go as hard as they can."
"Yes, the Island is overrun with them, and so is most of Sir Gwinnear's estate. The farmers look upon them as a pest, and destroy as many as they can."
"Why pests, sir?" asked Phillips.
"Because they eat the grass that feed the sheep, nibble the young corn shoots, undermine hedges, and so on. Of course, they are not so numerous as in Australia, where agriculture is threatened with disaster by their depreciations. One day, Phillips, you can have a chance of shooting a few for our dinner. It will be necessary for you to get a gun licence before you can carry a gun. I'll see to that, however. But steady now: here's the entrance to our bathing cove."
"What, here, sir?" asked several of the lads in chorus, and in a tone of incredulity, for the place indicated by the Scoutmaster was a circular hole surrounded by a ruinous stone wall. "Yes: follow me. Mind where you tread. It's quite safe if you take reasonable precautions."
The shaft, a natural tunnel, was descended by means of a spiral path, in places less than three feet in width, a rusty iron handrail—a relic of the good old smuggling days—serving as a none too reliable protection.
At eighty feet from the summit a steeply shelving floor was reached, whence a long, irregular tunnel led seawards. For part of this distance the place was in almost total darkness, while the air was moist and chilly.
Presently the tunnel began to get lighter, and the rocky floor gave place to a carpet of smooth white sand, terminating at the water's edge.
"What a ripping bathing-place, sir," exclaimed Neale.
"Come on, lads, let's see who will be the first in," shouted Coventry major, hastily slipping off his scanty garments: an example that the others followed.
"Steady, boys," said the Scoutmaster. "Not so fast. I know that you can all swim more or less: but what precautions are you taking against accidents?"
"We're all together, sir," replied Coventry senior. "If needs be there is plenty of assistance ready."
"Quite so," assented Mr Trematon. "But that is hardly sufficient. I remember the case of a party of fifty soldiers bathing together. One of them suddenly sank without a shout, and he was not missed until the men paraded to march back to barracks. So I think we will have a boat out. The two Leaders and I will man the craft, and we can have our swim afterwards."
"A boat, sir? We will have to go back to the landing-place to fetch one."
"No need to do that. Come this way."
A few feet above high-water mark a side passage branched from the main tunnel, and within it was a small rowing boat about twelve feet in length, with oars and thole pins ready for use. A life-buoy and a length of rope lay under the sternsheets.
"This is one of Peter Varco's boats," said Mr Trematon. "He always keeps it here for the use of visitors who come to the place—Dollar Cove it is called—for bathing. He told me we could make use of it."
"Why is this called Dollar Cove, sir?" asked Basil Armstrong.
"They say a Spanish treasure ship was wrecked on the west side of Seal Island, and that her precious cargo was strewn over the bottom of the sea. Curiously enough the only coins ever washed ashore have been found at the mouth of this cove."
"Should we find any if we looked, sir?" asked Fraser.
"That I cannot say; but suppose instead of standing here in the cold we launch this boat?"
Soon the placid waters of the bathing-cove were disturbed by the splashing of the lads of the two patrols, and all were somewhat reluctant to hear Mr Trematon's voice calling for them to come and dress.
When the Scoutmaster and the Headers had had their swim the Scouts made their way to the top of the natural staircase, and, doubling, returned to the camp glowing with health and excitement.
Directly the bedding was replaced and the tents tidied, breakfast was served. The camp oven fires had been banked up, and a plentiful supply of hot water was instantly available. Eggs, boiled in salt water,—which, according to Mr Trematon's idea, were far more appetising than if done in fresh water—small flat loaves baked on hot ashes, and cocoa formed the repast.
"Whatever is the matter with you, Hayes?" asked Mr Trematon as the Scout gave a partly suppressed gurgle, rolled his eyes, and clutched his throat with both hands.
Without replying Hayes suddenly bolted, while the Scoutmaster and several of the Scouts followed to see what was amiss.
"The bread, sir," gasped Hayes, after several attempts to make him explain.
"The bread? What's wrong with it."
"It tastes horrible," replied the victim. "I feel awfully queer."
Just then young Coventry came running up, making similar grimaces to those of the first sufferer. He in turn was followed by little Reggie Scott, who, though undoubtedly equally as upset as his bigger comrades, kept himself more under control.
"It's the bread, sir," he announced, holding up half of one of the flat cakes. "I believe there's oil in it."
The Scoutmaster took the proffered bread and smelt it.
"You're right," he replied. "It is paraffin. What on earth have Baker and Pat Coventry been doing? Cheer up, you sufferers; you're not poisoned. Smile and look pleasant, and we'll hold a court-martial on the cooks."
Further examination revealed the fact that all the bread was tainted with the unpleasant odour of paraffin. On being questioned Pat Coventry replied that he took no part in making the dough, while Baker admitted that he had noticed an oily substance on the water when mixed with the flour.
"I skimmed it off, sir," he explained. "I didn't know that it was paraffin."
"Haven't you a nose? Why didn't you use your sense of smell?"
"I didn't think of it, sir."
"Well it cannot be helped now; another time, if you have any doubts, ask me. That's what I am here for," said Mr Trematon. "Serve out the biscuits, Atherton. The bread is useless. After breakfast we must find out how the paraffin got into the flour. But it's close on eight. Fall in."
The two patrols, staves in hand, lined up under their respective Leaders on either side of the flagstaff. The Union Jack was toggled to the halliards, and at the hour the ensign was slowly hoisted, while the Scouts stood alert and loyally saluted the Emblem of Empire.
"Sit easy!" ordered the Scoutmaster, and the Scouts sat down to listen to Mr Trematon's instructions.
"This is our first complete day in camp," he said, "and we can hardly hope to get into proper working order so soon. During the rest of the morning we must make more arrangements for our welfare. Coming in late last night we contented ourselves by merely pitching the tents. Had it rained, there would have been considerable discomfort on Seal Island, I fear. By this evening I hope to have the whole routine outlined, so that we may carry out our daily programme without a hitch. Simpson, I want you to take Armstrong and Hayes with you, cross to the mainland and purchase a sack of flour. Four of the 'Otters' will take spades and dig trenches round the tents and other holes where required. Four of the "Wolves" will attend on the cooks. and build a watertight hut for the kitchen. The rest of you can construct mattresses of bracken. You remember instruction was given on that subject only a few weeks ago. Now set to work and see how much you can do before one o'clock."
Calling the two cooks to accompany him, Mr Trematon walked over to the spot where the temporary ovens had been erected. A brief inspection showed the cause of the failure of the breakfast arrangements. In loading the boats for the journey across to Seal Island a can of paraffin had been dumped alongside the sack of flour, and the screw top of the former having worked loose a portion of the oil soaked into the flour.
During the rest of the morning the lads worked hard putting the camp in order. Trenches to drain the surface water in a possible heavy downpour of rain were dug round the tents; a mud and wattle hut, large enough to afford complete shelter for the cooks and their utensils, was erected; while a large tub was sunk in the little stream fed by the spring, so that a supply of fresh water was easily obtainable without having to make a lengthy journey to the fountain head.
The mattresses, too, were in a forward state. The frames of these were constructed of straight branches, the side pieces being five feet six inches in length, the head two feet, and the foot fifteen inches. By tapering the shape of the cots it was possible to arrange them systematically round the tent, so that each Scout slept with his feet towards the tent-pole. A coarse netting of thick twine filled the space between the cot frames, and through the meshes bracken was woven, forming a springy and comfortable couch, the frames being raised sufficiently to prevent the "sag," caused by the sleepers' bodies, from touching the ground.
For dinner, boiled bacon, cabbage and potatoes and suet pudding were provided, and the cooks of the day did themselves credit, as if to atone for the spoiling of the breakfast. True, Tom Mayne found a boiled caterpillar in his share of the cabbage, and Coventry minor all but swallowed a piece of string that had been mixed up with the suet, but as the Scoutmaster remarked such incidents are really blessings in disguise, since the lads afterwards carefully examined every portion of the dinner and thus prevented any undue haste in eating.
"It is certainly advisable that we should make ourselves thoroughly acquainted with our temporary domain," said Mr Trematon, after dinner was over. "It is now half past one. We will rest for half an hour and then set out for an exploration of Seal Island."
Atthe expiration of the stipulated time, preparations were made for the circuit of the Island. The "Otters" were ordered to take their staves, while to the "Wolves" was allotted the task of carrying several lengths of two-inch rope, iron crowbars, a pair of double "blocks" and a pair of single ones. Mr Trematon did not give the reason why these articles need be taken, and speculation as to their use ran high.
"Two lads must remain as camp orderlies," he remarked. "Who will volunteer? Remember a volunteer is worth two pressed."
There were several moments' hesitation. All were exceptionally keen on the trip, and the suggestion that two of them should remain did not appeal to them in a favourable light.
"I will, sir," said Atherton.
"No," rejoined the Scoutmaster. "The Leaders are exempt, since they are responsible to me for their patrols."
"I'll remain, sir," exclaimed Tom Mayne.
"That's good. Now, then, a volunteer from the 'Wolves.' That will be fair, won't it?"
Coventry major signified his willingness to stay, for although in different patrols the two lads were close chums.
"That's settled," continued Mr Trematon. "Now, orderlies, you must not go beyond the limits of the camp, except down to the landing-place. You are to receive any visitors that may come to the Island, and show them round, giving them any information as courteously as you can."
In high spirits the two patrols set out, their first halt being at the ruined oratory. Here Mr Trematon explained the use and nature of these buildings in mediaeval days, how that recluses devoted their lives to prayer and watching. No doubt many vessels in pre-Reformation days owed their safety to the friendly light that burned every night from hundreds of oratories scattered round the coast.
The ruins being situated on the highest part of the Island, the Scouts had an extensive view of the Cornish shore and of the expansive Bristol Channel. The day was clear, and the water was dotted with ships of all sizes, all looking like miniature boats in the distance. There were colliers, distinguishable by having their funnels well aft; tramps, rusty-sided, and with stumpy masts serving mainly to support the derricks for handling cargo; topsail schooners, in which most of the coast-wise trade between the smaller ports is now carried on; Bristol Channel pilot boats engaged in keen competition to pick up a job; and a host of small fishing boats from the neighbouring ports of St Ives and Padstow.
"How far can we see out to sea, sir?" asked Tenderfoot Scott.
"That depends mainly upon the clearness of the atmosphere. From the height on which we are now standing—250 feet—we might be able to see nearly twenty-one miles."
"It's very clear to-day, sir," observed Fraser.
"Yes, too clear for my liking," asserted the scoutmaster. "Tregantle Head—over twenty-five miles away—stands up quite plainly. That's a sure sign of wet weather and probably a storm in addition."
"A storm! Will there be any wrecks?" asked little Reggie Scott, eagerly. "Will we be able to see them if there are?"
"I trust not," replied the Scoutmaster, solemnly. "I have seen several wrecks, and it is not an experience to be desired. Now, lads, forward. Bear away to the right. I want you to see that part of the Island nearest to Beware Head."
Through a dense belt of gorse and bracken, out of which the startled rabbits scooted with amazing rapidity, the Scouts trooped till Mr Trematon called to them to halt. They were then within ten feet of the edge of the cliffs that here descend abruptly for a distance of one hundred and eighty feet.
"Don't ever go closer to the brink of the cliffs than this, unless you have a line round you," cautioned Mr Trematon. "The ground might crumble under you, although there is far less probability of doing so here—where the rocks are composed of granite—than on the south-eastern coast of England, where the cliffs are of chalk and soft sandstone."
From where they stood the Scouts could see almost the whole extent of water between the Island and Beware Head, a sheet of deep blue sea interspersed with patches of pale green denoting sandy bottom between the weed-covered rocks. Long oily rollers came tumbling inshore with unfailing regularity, breaking with a smother of foam against the base of the headland.
"What makes those rollers, sir?" asked Baker. "There's very little wind, and farther out the sea is quite calm."
"It's called a ground-swell, and is said to be caused by a storm many miles out to sea. Their presence is also an indication of the approach of bad weather. I don't want to dishearten you, lads, but we must 'Be prepared' for all emergencies, and if we are I don't think our holiday will be any less enjoyable."
"There's a signal from the lighthouse, sir," announced Atherton.
"Now, then, signallers: what do you make of that?" asked the Scoutmaster, as a burst of flags fluttered from a staff rising from the gallery of the lighthouse.
"We can't make out, sir," replied Phillips and Neale. "They are not spelling anything."
"No, it is in code. The combination of those three flags means a message which we could only interpret if we had a signal-code book. One of those vessels 'made her number '—that is, has reported herself on first sighting a British signal-station—and the information will be telegraphed to Lloyd's. See, there's a keeper on the gallery. Watch him through your pocket telescope, Phillips, and when he looks this way tell Neale to call him up."
"What shall I semaphore, sir?" asked the Second of the "Wolves."
"Ask him for permission to visit the lighthouse," replied Mr Trematon. "Then, if he says yes, ask what day and what time will be convenient."
"He's looking this way, sir," reported Phillips.
Standing well apart from his comrades, Neale "called up" the lighthouse. In a few moments Phillips announced that the man was looking towards them through a glass.
"He's acknowledged, sir," continued the Second of the "Otters." "Another man has taken the glass from him."
"Carry on," ordered the Scoutmaster, and Neale began semaphoring with considerable rapidity and accuracy.
Back came the reply: "The keepers of Beware Head lighthouse will be pleased to show the Scouts over the building any day between 9 A.M. and one hour before sunset."
"Acknowledge and thank them, Neale. Say we hope to inspect the lighthouse tomorrow at 2 P.M."
"Has this point any name, sir," asked Phillips, indicating the northernmost limit of Seal Island.
"No, I think not," replied the Scoutmaster. "Suppose for our own convenience we give it a name. What shall it be?"
"Why not North Cape?" suggested Green.
"I am afraid it doesn't jut out sufficiently into the sea. It is bold and lofty; suppose we say North Head?"
"And the other extremities, East, South and West Heads, sir?" asked Sayers, the lad who shared with Reggie Scott the distinction of being the Tenderfoot of the "Otters."
"Very good," assented Mr Trematon. "The names are simple enough, which is a consideration, since there is little chance of getting confused over the various designations. Now, forward once more."
The route now lay in a south-westerly direction along an ill-defined track that followed the edge of the cliffs, which hereabouts attained a height of about eighty feet.
"We are now over what is known as the Tea Caves," announced the Scoutmaster. "These caves are well worth exploring, but at present I intend to show them to the 'Otters' only. The 'Wolves' must remain here and attend to the ropes, for we can only reach the caves by being lowered over the cliffs. The descent is, with proper precautions, perfectly safe, but a certain amount of nerve is required. Should any lad not feel equal to the task he is at liberty to fall out."
"So long as I don't fall in, I don't mind," remarked Tenderfoot Sayers, in an undertone to his chum Scott.
"If Mr Trematon says it is perfectly safe, 'nuff said," replied Reggie Scott. "I'm game." Lashing a pair of staves together to form sheerlegs, the Scouts planted the ends into the ground so that the crossed portion overhung the cliffs. To the projecting end one of the blocks or pulleys was secured, while "guys" prevented the sheerlegs from toppling over. A rope with a bowline at one end was rove through the pulley for the purpose of lowering the explorers. The Scouts employed on this work were all provided with life-lines to guard against serious accidents should the cliffs crumble.
"That seems perfectly secure," said Mr Trematon, after he had put the gear to a severe test. "Now we are ready for the descent. At twenty-five feet from the summit of the cliff is a fairly broad path. Each Scout in turn will be lowered on to this ledge, and there he will stand easy till I rejoin you. Atherton, since you are the Leader, it is your place to go first."
Passing the bowline under his arms. Atherton walked to the edge of the cliff, sat down, and waited till the "Wolves" took the strain on the rope. Then, unhesitatingly, he slipped over the cliff, and was slowly lowered through the intervening twenty-five feet. It seemed a long distance, especially as the lad had to ward himself off the face of the granite cliff with his hands. He knew, as did his companions, that it was foolish to look down, even if secured by a bowline, and although the temptation to glance downwards to see how much farther he had to go was great he had sufficient strength of mind to carry out instructions.
Presently his feet touched fairly level ground; the bowline slackened. He found himself upon a rocky "bench" or path nearly eight feet in breadth, which sloped with irregular gradations towards the base of the cliffs.
Casting off the rope, Atherton called to his comrades to haul away, and he found himself cut off on the face of a wall of granite, that, save for a ledge on which he stood, looked as smooth as a board.
One by one the "Otters" were lowered. Finally the Scoutmaster descended, and the little party, eight all told, proceeded along the path leading to the caves.
"Funny name, sir," said Phillips. "Why do they call them Tea Caves—because the place is shaped like the letter T?"
"No, merely another reminder of smuggling days."
"Did they used to smuggle tea?" asked Everest.
"Yes; in the eighteenth century there used to be a very heavy tax on tea in this country; hence smuggling tea was almost as paying a game as smuggling spirits and lace if the run came off successfully. Here is the main entrance; do you notice anything peculiar about the roof?"
"Yes, sir," replied several of the lads. "There looks as if there's a deep notch cut across it."
"That is where the smugglers used to hang a painted canvas curtain from to deceive the revenue people. Viewed from seaward it was almost impossible to detect the mouth of the cave."
"But how was the tea carried there? There is no place for a boat to land at the foot of the cliffs."
"That was another smugglers' ruse. The contraband goods were brought ashore at the same place as where we first landed on Seal Island. Wines and spirits were usually taken to Dollar Cove, and hidden in the cave we explored this morning. The chests of tea were carried across the Island, lowered over the cliff, taken along the path we have just traversed, and stored in these caves.