CHAPTER VI

  A SPOILT BREAKFAST

  "ANYONE awake?" enquired Mr Trematon softly, thrusting his headthrough the partially unlaced opening of the tent, where the eight"Otters" were lying like the spokes of a wheel, each lad's feettowards 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 theearly morning sun. It was just after five o'clock--r?veill? was tobe at half-past six.

  The air was keen and the dew still thick upon the short grass. Thevillage of Polkerwyck was yet in shadow, for the sun had not risensufficiently high to throw its slanting beams upon the deep-sethamlet. But already there were signs of activity, for several of thefishing boats that had been out all night had just returned and werelanding their cargoes for conveyance to the nearest railway station.So still was the air that the reflections of the frowning cliffs andthe deep browns of the tanned sails were faithfully reproduced in theplacid water. The morning mist still lingered on the hill-tops, anddrifted in ill-defined patches across the headlands that defined thelimits of the bay.

  "Best part of the day, sir," said Atherton cheerfully, as he surveyedthe scene of tranquillity.

  "It is," assented Mr Trematon. "It makes one pity the sluggards whonever see the sun rise. But I want you two to come with me across thePolkerwyck. Old Varco promised he'd have an old boat's mast ready foruse as a flagstaff, and I want to commence our first day on SealIsland by saluting the flag."

  It was now nearly high tide, and thanks to the steepness of the shorethere was little difficulty in launching the smallest boat. TheScoutmaster steered, while Atherton and Green rowed.

  "Isn't the water clear," said Green, looking over the side. "I wishwe could have a bathe."

  "All in good time," replied Mr Trematon. "There's a splendid bathingcove just past that point of the island, where there is hardly anycurrent."

  "How do we get there, sir?" asked Atherton. "The cliffs rise straightfrom the sea."

  "There's a path leading to a cave, that in turn communicates with thesea. It used to be a favourite smugglers' haunt a century or moreago. Easy now, Green, we're nearly there."

  The boat's forefoot grounded on the sand; Green jumped out andsecured the painter, while the Scoutmaster and the Leader stowed theoars and sprang ashore.

  "Here's the mast," said Mr Trematon, indicating a thirty-foot polelying on the little stone quay. "I see Varco has rove some signalhalliards--thoughtful man."

  "It's a lump, sir," remarked Green. "How are we to get it into theboat? It will project ten feet at each end, and we will have no endof a job to row."

  "I don't mean to place it in the boat. We'll tow it. Atherton, makethis rope fast to that ring-bolt: we'll parbuckle the spar."

  The Leader knew what his Scoutmaster meant. To push the mast over theedge of the quay would scratch the paint and roughen the wood. Makingthe end of his rope fast to a ring about a foot from the edge of thewharf, Atherton waited till Mr Trematon had performed a similaroperation, the two ropes being twenty feet apart. Carefully the sparwas rolled till it rested on the ropes, the "free ends" of which theScoutmaster 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 noweasily and slowly lowered into the water, and attached by its taperedend to the stern of the boat.

  "That went smoothly enough, sir," said Green.

  "Yes, two men can parbuckle a suitably-shaped object of thrice theircombined weight. All the same it won't be such an easy task to haulthe mast up the slope of Seal Island."

  Upon landing on the Island, Atherton took the tapering end on hisshoulder, Mr Trematon and Green supporting the heavier end.

  "Don't keep step," urged the Scoutmaster, "or the mast will sway andpossibly 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 theflagstaff 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 tobring a supply of water from the spring that the Scoutmaster hadpointed out; Everest and Fraser took a boat and crossed to themainland to procure milk, eggs and bacon from the farm; while therest of the two patrols opened up tents and aired the bedding.

  At seven, coffee and bread and butter were served out: not a standingmeal, but merely a "stay" before breakfast. This was followed byprayers, then all hands fell in for bathing parade.

  All except Atherton and Green were somewhat surprised when MrTrematon led the way, not to the landing-place, but up hill in thedirection of the ruined hermitage.

  "What's that?" exclaimed young Armstrong, as a small brown animalwith a tuft of white on its tail darted into a hole on the site ofthe path. "Why, I believe it's a rabbit."

  "Look, there are dozens of them," added Everest, pointing to a hollowabout two hundred yards off. "There they go as hard as they can."

  "Yes, the Island is overrun with them, and so is most of SirGwinnear's estate. The farmers look upon them as a pest, and destroyas many as they can."

  "Why pests, sir?" asked Phillips.

  "Because they eat the grass that feed the sheep, nibble the youngcorn shoots, undermine hedges, and so on. Of course, they are not sonumerous as in Australia, where agriculture is threatened withdisaster by their depreciations. One day, Phillips, you can have achance of shooting a few for our dinner. It will be necessary for youto 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 toneof incredulity, for the place indicated by the Scoutmaster was acircular hole surrounded by a ruinous stone wall. "Yes: follow me.Mind where you tread. It's quite safe if you take reasonableprecautions."

  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--arelic of the good old smuggling days--serving as a none too reliableprotection.

  At eighty feet from the summit a steeply shelving floor was reached,whence a long, irregular tunnel led seawards. For part of thisdistance the place was in almost total darkness, while the air wasmoist and chilly.

  Presently the tunnel began to get lighter, and the rocky floor gaveplace to a carpet of smooth white sand, terminating at the water'sedge.

  "What a ripping bathing-place, sir," exclaimed Neale.

  "Come on, lads, let's see who will be the first in," shouted Coventrymajor, hastily slipping off his scanty garments: an example that theothers followed.

  "Steady, boys," said the Scoutmaster. "Not so fast. I know that youcan all swim more or less: but what precautions are you takingagainst accidents?"

  "We're all together, sir," replied Coventry senior. "If needs bethere is plenty of assistance ready."

  "Quite so," assented Mr Trematon. "But that is hardly sufficient. Iremember the case of a party of fifty soldiers bathing together. Oneof them suddenly sank without a shout, and he was not missed untilthe men paraded to march back to barracks. So I think we will have aboat out. The two Leaders and I will man the craft, and we can haveour swim afterwards."

  "A boat, sir? We will have to go back to the landing-place to fetchone."

  "No need to do that. Come this way."

  A few feet above high-water mark a side passage branched from themain tunnel, and within it was a small rowing boat about twelve feetin length, with oars and thole pins ready for use. A life-buoy and alength of rope lay under the sternsheets.

  "This is one of Peter Varco's boats," said Mr Trematon. "He alwayskeeps it here for the use of visitor
s who come to the place--DollarCove 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 ofSeal Island, and that her precious cargo was strewn over the bottomof the sea. Curiously enough the only coins ever washed ashore havebeen 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 coldwe launch this boat?"

  Soon the placid waters of the bathing-cove were disturbed by thesplashing of the lads of the two patrols, and all were somewhatreluctant to hear Mr Trematon's voice calling for them to come anddress.

  When the Scoutmaster and the Headers had had their swim the Scoutsmade 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 wasserved. The camp oven fires had been banked up, and a plentifulsupply of hot water was instantly available. Eggs, boiled in saltwater,--which, according to Mr Trematon's idea, were far moreappetising than if done in fresh water--small flat loaves baked onhot ashes, and cocoa formed the repast.

  "Whatever is the matter with you, Hayes?" asked Mr Trematon as theScout gave a partly suppressed gurgle, rolled his eyes, and clutchedhis throat with both hands.

  Without replying Hayes suddenly bolted, while the Scoutmaster andseveral of the Scouts followed to see what was amiss.

  "The bread, sir," gasped Hayes, after several attempts to make himexplain.

  "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 tothose of the first sufferer. He in turn was followed by little ReggieScott, who, though undoubtedly equally as upset as his biggercomrades, kept himself more under control.

  "It's the bread, sir," he announced, holding up half of one of theflat 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 Bakerand Pat Coventry been doing? Cheer up, you sufferers; you're notpoisoned. Smile and look pleasant, and we'll hold a court-martial onthe cooks."

  Further examination revealed the fact that all the bread was taintedwith the unpleasant odour of paraffin. On being questioned PatCoventry replied that he took no part in making the dough, whileBaker admitted that he had noticed an oily substance on the waterwhen mixed with the flour.

  "I skimmed it off, sir," he explained. "I didn't know that it wasparaffin."

  "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 thebiscuits, Atherton. The bread is useless. After breakfast we mustfind out how the paraffin got into the flour. But it's close oneight. Fall in."

  The two patrols, staves in hand, lined up under their respectiveLeaders on either side of the flagstaff. The Union Jack was toggledto the halliards, and at the hour the ensign was slowly hoisted,while the Scouts stood alert and loyally saluted the Emblem ofEmpire.

  "Sit easy!" ordered the Scoutmaster, and the Scouts sat down tolisten to Mr Trematon's instructions.

  "This is our first complete day in camp," he said, "and we can hardlyhope to get into proper working order so soon. During the rest of themorning we must make more arrangements for our welfare. Coming inlate last night we contented ourselves by merely pitching the tents.Had it rained, there would have been considerable discomfort on SealIsland, I fear. By this evening I hope to have the whole routineoutlined, so that we may carry out our daily programme without ahitch. 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 otherholes where required. Four of the "Wolves" will attend on the cooks.and build a watertight hut for the kitchen. The rest of you canconstruct mattresses of bracken. You remember instruction was givenon that subject only a few weeks ago. Now set to work and see howmuch you can do before one o'clock."

  Calling the two cooks to accompany him, Mr Trematon walked over tothe spot where the temporary ovens had been erected. A briefinspection showed the cause of the failure of the breakfastarrangements. In loading the boats for the journey across to SealIsland 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 theoil soaked into the flour.

  During the rest of the morning the lads worked hard putting the campin order. Trenches to drain the surface water in a possible heavydownpour of rain were dug round the tents; a mud and wattle hut,large enough to afford complete shelter for the cooks and theirutensils, was erected; while a large tub was sunk in the littlestream fed by the spring, so that a supply of fresh water was easilyobtainable without having to make a lengthy journey to the fountainhead.

  The mattresses, too, were in a forward state. The frames of thesewere constructed of straight branches, the side pieces being fivefeet six inches in length, the head two feet, and the foot fifteeninches. By tapering the shape of the cots it was possible to arrangethem systematically round the tent, so that each Scout slept with hisfeet towards the tent-pole. A coarse netting of thick twine filledthe space between the cot frames, and through the meshes bracken waswoven, forming a springy and comfortable couch, the frames beingraised sufficiently to prevent the "sag," caused by the sleepers'bodies, from touching the ground.

  For dinner, boiled bacon, cabbage and potatoes and suet pudding wereprovided, and the cooks of the day did themselves credit, as if toatone for the spoiling of the breakfast. True, Tom Mayne found aboiled caterpillar in his share of the cabbage, and Coventry minorall but swallowed a piece of string that had been mixed up with thesuet, but as the Scoutmaster remarked such incidents are reallyblessings in disguise, since the lads afterwards carefully examinedevery portion of the dinner and thus prevented any undue haste ineating.

  "It is certainly advisable that we should make ourselves thoroughlyacquainted with our temporary domain," said Mr Trematon, after dinnerwas over. "It is now half past one. We will rest for half an hour andthen set out for an exploration of Seal Island."

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels