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Motor Boat Boys Down the Coast Part 8

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"But that sea will keep up more or less the rest of the day," observed Jack, as they sauntered over to a point where they could look out on the heaving surface of the broad Delaware Bay.

Having a stretch of miles in which to gather force under the piping wind, the waves were of considerable height, considering that the three boats were of diminutive size.

They watched the tumble of the billows until they were tired. Then each set about doing whatever appealed the most to his nature.

Thus Nick wandered along the bank of the creek, examining the sh.o.r.es closely, in the hope of being able to pick up a few sh.e.l.lfish, since his taste for oysters had grown to huge proportions after the feast already indulged in.

George set about drying things out on board the _Wireless_, so that he could tinker a little with that high spirited engine of his. Josh settled down to gather some wood, being bent on having an outdoor fire when the next meal came around, meaning supper; for they would only take a cold snack at noon. Herb was writing up his log; Jimmy getting some fishing tackle in readiness, he having an idea that finny prizes only awaited the taking in these parts; while Jack wandered forth, with a gun thrown over his shoulder, hungry for a little hunt.



They heard a double report half an hour later. Every fellow looked interested, for well did they know that when Jack pulled trigger there was a pretty fair chance of something dropping into the game bag.

Nick, who was pottering with a few rather poor looking oysters he had managed to discover in some little cove, grinned, and rubbed himself comfortingly in the region of the stomach.

"Which shall it be, brethren, wild duck, quail on toast, rabbit stew, or great governor! wild turkey roasted?" he demanded, with the utmost confidence that Jack would fulfill at least one of these conditions.

When the Nimrod of the crowd came in sight, there was more or less interest manifested as to what he had shot. After all, it proved to be wild ducks. And Nick's eyes glistened when he saw that they were mallards, three fat fellows at that.

"I happened on 'em in a little wide reach of the creek about half a mile away," Jack explained; "and as this was a pot hunt, fellows, believe me, I didn't hesitate to shoot the first barrel straight at the three as they sat on the water. Two dropped and the other fellow made to rise; but that was dead easy, and I got him with the second sh.e.l.l."

"Yum! yum! I can imagine how good they'll taste," remarked Nick. "But as we haven't any oven along, how can we roast 'em? Jack, why not try that hole in the ground trick that you showed us last year when we were down on the Mississippi?"

"That's right, Jack!" echoed George.

"Just as you say, fellows; and the sooner we get our oven in working order then, the better; because, you remember, it takes quite some hours for it to do the job. It's really the original fireless cooker, known to woodsmen for rafts of years before the idea was applied to bottles that will keep the stuff warm forty hours; and contrivances to gradually cook meats and other things. So here goes to get busy with the oven. Nick, you and Herb and Jimmy each pluck one of the ducks in the meantime, so they will be ready."

Now, this was a part of the business that Nick liked not at all; but he felt that it would be a shame to complain, when he delighted so much in being about to share in the treat; so he set to work, after his clumsy fashion, to make the feathers fly.

Jack, meanwhile, dug a proper hole in the ground, where he could find something like clay. With the help of Josh he started a fire in the same. This was kept up a certain length of time, until the walls of the oven were baked hard, and felt exceedingly hot. Then the ashes were cleaned out, the three ducks placed therein, after being carefully wrapped in big green leaves; and when this had been done the oven was hermetically sealed.

"We may have to wait a little later than usual for our supper," Jack said; "but when they're done, it'll sure make your mouths water just to get the scent, after that oven is opened."

The afternoon pa.s.sed slowly. All clouds had sailed away, and the sun shone in a cherry manner, giving promise for a glorious day on the morrow. Still, they could not think of changing their anchorage, because the waves continued to run high; and that boat of George's was always to be remembered as the one weak link in the chain.

Josh did himself proud in preparing supper that night. And when the oven was finally opened, the delicious odor that immediately a.s.sailed the nostrils of the hungry lads sent them into the seventh heaven of delightful antic.i.p.ation.

Nor was the eating of the ducks at all a disappointment. Never had they tasted anything finer in all their lives.

"Say, if mallards can touch the spot like this, what must redheads or canvasbacks be like?" demanded Nick, as he polished a leg bone handsomely, grunting his pleasure meanwhile, and perhaps inwardly sighing because there was not one whole duck apiece.

"We'll see, later on," replied Jack; "because, as we have to pa.s.s through those North Carolina sounds where such ducks can be found, there's a chance we'll take toll on the way."

"But I thought the hunting clubs had monopolized every foot of that water; and that only the wealthy New Yorkers, and ex-presidents, could shoot on Albemarle and Currituck Sounds?" remarked Josh.

"Well, pretty much all the best points are private territory now," Jack answered, frowning; "but it's possible to sneak a few shots when you're pa.s.sing through on the way south. Wait and see what we can do, fellows."

"Well, one thing sure," declared Nick, admiringly; "if ever Jack Stormways pulls trigger on a canvasback, he goes along with this bully crowd, all right."

"Hear! hear!" cried the others, which caused the flattered Jack to smile and wave his hand in token of sincere appreciation.

"I reckon now," remarked George, as they sat around the blaze later on, conversing along various topics; "you've hung on to that bally old mystery all tight enough, Jack?"

"Meaning the little sealed packet the skipper of the hydro-aeroplane gave into my keeping?" the one addressed made reply. "Why, of course I have it safe; and if I manage to get through to Beaufort, I hope to hunt up the same Van Arsdale Spence, and put it in his possession."

"But it may turn out to be a tougher proposition than you imagine,"

Herb remarked. "Perhaps the gentleman has buried himself in the wild country around that coast town; we can't spend much time hunting all over creation for him, can we?"

"Of course, we don't expect to do that," Jack quickly responded. "I only promised to look him up; and if he had gone away, to send the packet to him by mail, if we could get his present address. But what's the use crossing a bridge till you get to it? We worry a heap over things that never happen. Who said he was sleepy?"

"Me," spoke up Nick, who had been yawning at a prodigious rate for the last half hour. "You see, we didn't get much of a snooze aboard the old _Wireless_ these two nights. Even at the best, the quarters are cramped; and if one fellow turns over, it nearly throws his mate out of his blanket bed."

"Rats!" scoffed George, always ready to stand up for his beloved craft, even though deep down in his heart he knew that the criticism might be well founded. "The trouble is, you're such a hefty fellow that you never just roll over, you _wallow_! Now, when I had Josh for a while with me, things went much smoother."

"But I didn't go the same way, I'm telling you, George," declared the tall boy, quickly; "and you needn't try to coax me to change places with Nick any more. I've tried your boat, and I just don't like it.

I've got to have room to stretch; and after a night aboard the _Wireless_ I used to feel that I was tied up in a double knot all right. Nixy, I pa.s.s. Once is out for me."

But all of them were sleepy, and it was not long before they went aboard. There had been some talk of staying ash.o.r.e; but it frittered out. Whether it was because of the frolicsome mosquitoes, that had put in their appearance with the dying out of the breeze; or recollections of the fearful name by which the stream, was known on the chart and among men, no one confessed. They dribbled aboard the three boats, and went about making up their beds for the night in the most matter-of-fact way possible.

And, truth to tell, they did manage to secure a lot of refreshing sleep before another dawn came to call them to duty.

After breakfast they left their harbor, in which they had been storm-bound; and were soon pushing along toward the southeast, where Lewes, back of Cape Henlopen, lay.

The bay was far from smooth, but by degrees it became more so as the day pa.s.sed. Finally, after pa.s.sing several lighthouses, they had glimpses of the great Government breakwater, and the barrier that has been erected to keep the ice from injuring the shipping.

That night they lay in a snug harbor in Broadhill Creek, a few miles above the town. Herb and Josh had gone with the _Comfort_ to see if there was any mail for them; and to pick up a few little things which it was believed they needed to complete their happiness.

"I hope tomorrow will be as fine as today has been," Jack remarked that evening, as they sat around to partake of supper; "because we've got a nasty outside run to make, reaching for an inlet below; and we've just got to wait until the sea is smooth, if it takes a week. We promised our folks at home not to take any unnecessary chances, you remember, fellows."

"And that's one I'd refuse to tackle," observed George, without a blush. "The old ocean is a pretty big proposition for a teenty little motor boat to buck up against."

"Especially one that's built on the order of a wedge!" grunted Nick, unconsciously rubbing one of his fat sides sympathetically, as though he might be getting a chronic muscular pain there, from being kept in a state of perpetual balance.

When the morning did come they found that the signs seemed most propitious indeed; and Jack declared that they could not afford to let such a chance pa.s.s by.

"Well, just as you say, Jack," sighed George. "The thing has to be done; and in that case the sooner we get it over with, the better. But I hope there won't be much more of this outside business before we reach Florida."

"Very little," replied the other, rea.s.suringly. "And we're going to take no chances at any time, remember. This outside work is easy enough, always providing you bide your time, and no big wind from the east or south comes up while you're making the trip from one inlet to another. Sometimes, I'm told, the sea is like gla.s.s, with hardly a ripple."

"I hope it turns out that way today, then," remarked George, as he began to do a little final tinkering with his machinery before the start.

Jack watched the tide, knowing something about how the wind would be apt to come up at a certain change, as it usually does. Then, at eight o'clock, or "eight bells," as Nick delighted to call it, the signal was given, the gallant little flotilla started off; and an hour later the three motor boats were moving through the heaving sea, with nothing but water toward the east and south, as far as the eye could reach.

They were now fully launched on the broad Atlantic, and must take chances of making a safe harbor before the coming of the wind.

CHAPTER VIII.

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Motor Boat Boys Down the Coast Part 8 summary

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