[Illustration: STRIPPING COD AT SEA ON A WINTER MORNING. 

Fisheries Bureau Spawn-taker aboard a trawler. Note the snow on the rail, the frozen spray on the mast, and the ice on the rigging. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

U. S. SERVICE SERIES. 

THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FISHERIES

BY

FRANCIS ROLT-WHEELER

With Fifty-one Illustrations, principally fromBureaus of the United States Government

BOSTONLOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 

Published, November, 1912

COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY LOTHROP, LEE & SHEPARD CO. 

_All rights reserved_

THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FISHERIES

Norwood PressBERWICK AND SMITH CO. Norwood, Mass. U. S. A. 

To My Son Roger's Friend

COLIN McLACHLIN

PREFACE

Treasure-ships, bearing richer cargoes than any galleons that crossedthe Spanish Main, still sail over the ocean to-day, but we call themfishing smacks; heroism equal to that of any of the pioneer navigatorsof old still is found beneath oilskins and a sou'wester, but the heroesgive their lives to gain food for the world instead of knowledge; andthe thrilling quest of piercing the mysteries of life has no greaterfascination than when it seeks to probe the unfathomed depths of thatgreat mistress of mysteries--the Ocean. Just as to save life is greaterthan to destroy it, so is the true savior of the seas the Fisheriescraft, not the battleship; so is the hatchery mightier than thefortress, the net or the microscope a more powerful weapon for good thanthe torpedo or the Nordenfeldt. 

The Bureau of Fisheries for the United States Government, Mr. Chas. Frederick Holder and his associates for the anglers of America, and thesturdy and honorable class of commercial fishermen are raising to theutmost of dignity and value one of the oldest and greatest of allindustries. Not till the waste of waters is tamed as has been thewilderness of land will their work be done, and the Fisheries Bureaumust ever remain in the forefront of such endeavor. To reveal theincalculable riches of this vast domain of rivers, lakes, and seas; toshow the devotion of those whose lives are spent amid its elementalperils and to point out a way where courage, skill, and youth may find aroad to serve America and all the world beside, is the aim and purposeof

THE AUTHOR. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I PAGEMAROONED BY A WHALE 1

CHAPTER IITHE FIGHT OF THE OLD BULL SEALS 39

CHAPTER IIIATTACKED BY JAPANESE POACHERS 75

CHAPTER IVCATCHING THE SEA SERPENT 112

CHAPTER VCLUTCHED BY A HORROR OF THE DEEP 152

CHAPTER VIDEFEATED BY A SPOTTED MORAY 195

CHAPTER VIIHARPOONING A GIANT SEA VAMPIRE 234

CHAPTER VIIIFINDING A FORTUNE IN A PEARL 278

CHAPTER IXA TUSSLE WITH THE MONARCH OF THE SEA 314

CHAPTER XRUN DOWN DURING A SQUALL 359

ILLUSTRATIONS

Stripping Cod at Sea on a Winter Morning _Frontispiece_

Whale Harpoon Gun Loaded } FACING PAGEFinback Whale Being Struck } 14

Finback Whale Sounding }Lancing Finback } 28Pumping Carcass with Air }Dead Finback Set Adrift }

Spearing Seals at Sea 46

Holluschickie Hauling Up } 64Old Bull Seals Fighting }

Bull Fur Seal Charging } 78Snapshotting an Old Beachmaster }

Haul of Herring at Gastineau Channel, Alaska 90

Typical Seal Rookery Half Abandoned 102

Native Salmon Trap } 116Modern Salmon Trap }

Trout Fry. "Millions of These Hatched Yearly" 128

Hatcheries for Landlocked Salmon 138

Atlantic Salmon Leaping } 146Pacific Salmon Leaping }

Sea-Serpent Caught by Colin } 154Sea-Serpent Stranded }

Where the Big Tuna was Caught } 170The Largest Sunfish }

Octopus Caught at Santa Catalina } 190Squid Caught at Santa Catalina }

Headquarters of Fisheries Bureau } 202Largest Seine in World }

The Pool Where the Dog Was Devoured 224

Early Bird Passing the Aquarium 238

The Gorgeous Submarine World } 250The Gardens of the Sea }

Young Sponge on Cement Disk } 264Sheepswool Sponge }

Manta or Giant Sea-Devil 276

Winter on the Great Lakes } 284Winter Work on Inland Streams }

Clamming on the Mississippi } 296Barge-loads of Mussels }

Landing the Paddle-fish 306

Climbing up the Wheel } 318Biggest Fresh-water Fish in America }

The Blue Wing at the Fish Trap 328

Hatchery, Woods Hole } 336Residence, Woods Hole }

"What Shall We Get this Time?" } 346"Here's a New One, Boys!" }

Catching Swordfish with Rod and Reel 356

Clammer Raking for Quahaugs } 370Oysterman Tonging }

Testing the Ocean's Crop 378

THE BOY WITH THE U. S. FISHERIES

CHAPTER I

MAROONED BY A WHALE

"There she blows!"

Colin Dare, who was sitting beside the broken whale-gun and who had beenpromised that he might go in the boat that would be put out from theship if a whale were sighted, jumped to his feet at the cry from the'barrel' at the masthead. 

"Where?" he shouted eagerly, rushing to the rail and staring as hard ashe could at the heaving gray waters of the Behring Sea. 

"There she blo-o-ows!" again cried the lookout, in the long echoing callof the old-time whaler, and stretching out his hand, he pointed to aspot in the ocean about three points off the starboard bow. Colin'sglance followed the direction, and almost immediately he saw the faintcloud of vapor which showed that a whale had just spouted. 

"Do you suppose that's a whalebone whale, Hank?" asked the boy, turningto a lithe Yankee sea-dog with a scraggy gray beard who had been busilyworking over the mechanism of the whale-gun. 

"No sayin', " was the cautious reply, "we're too fur off to be able totell yet a while. How fur away do you reckon we be?"

"A mile or two, I suppose, " Colin said, "but we ought to catch up withthe whale pretty soon, oughtn't we?"

"That depends, " the gunner answered, "on whether the whale's willin' ornot. He ain't goin' to stay, right there. "

"But you usually do catch up?"

"If it's a 'right' whale we generally try to, an' havin' steam to helpus out makes a pile o' difference. Now, in the ol' days, I've seen adozen whales to wind'ard an' we couldn't get to 'em at all. By the timewe'd beaten 'round to where they'd been sighted, they were gone. "

"Well, I hope this is a 'right' whale, " Colin said with emphaticearnestness. 

"Why this one 'specially?" the old sailor asked. 

"I heard Captain Murchison say that if we came up with a whale while thegun was out of order, rather than lose a chance, he would send a boatout in the old-fashioned way. "

"An' you want to see how it's done, eh?"

"I got permission to go in the boat!" the boy answered triumphantly, "and I just can't wait. "

"It's the skipper's business, I suppose, but I don't hold with takin'any chances you don't have to, " was the gruff comment, "an' if you'lltake the advice of an old hand at the game you'll keep away. "

"But I want to go so much, Hank, " came the reply. 

"What for?"

"I'm trying to get Father's permission to join the Bureau of Fisheries, "explained the boy, "and when Captain Murchison started on this trip, Ibegged him to let me come. The captain is an old friend of his. "

"I'd rather you went in somebody else's boat than mine, then, " was theungracious response. 

"Why, Hank!" exclaimed Colin in surprise, "what a thing to say!"

The old sailor nodded sagely. 

"The skipper don't know much more about boat-whalin' than you do, " hesaid, "that was all done away before his time. He's willin' to tackleanythin' that comes along, all right, but a whalin' boat is just aboutthe riskiest thing that floats on water. "

"How's that, Hank?" asked the boy. "I always thought they were supposedto be so seaworthy. "

"They may be seaworthy, " was the grim reply, "but I never yet saw ashipwright who'd guarantee to make a boat that'd be whaleworthy. "

"But I'm sure I've read somewhere that whales never attacked boats, "persisted Colin. 

"Mebbe, " rejoined the gunner, "but I don't believe that any man whatwrites about whalin' bein' easy, has ever tried it in a small boat. "

"Well, " said the boy, "isn't it true that the only time a whale-boat issmashed up is when the monster threshes around in the death-flurry andhappens to hit the boat with his tail?"

"Not always. "

"You mean a whale does sometimes go for a boat, in spite of what thebooks say?"

"I never heard that whales cared much about literatoor, " the sailoranswered with an attempt at rough humor, "an' anyway, most o' them booksyou've been readin', lad, are written about whalin' off Greenland an' inthe Atlantic. "

"What difference does that make?" queried Colin. "Isn't a whale the samesort of animal all the world over?"

"There's all kinds of whales, " the gunner said, as though pitying theboy for his lack of knowledge, "some big an' some little, some good an'some bad. Now, a 'right' whale, f'r instance, couldn't harm a baby, butthe killers are just pure vicious. "

"You mean the orcas?" the boy queried. "Only just the other day CaptainMurchison was talking about them. He called them the wolves of the sea, and said they were the most daring hunters among all things that swim. "

"Sea-tigers, some calls 'em, " the other agreed, "an' they're fiercerthan any wolves I've ever heard about, but I never saw any of 'emattackin' a boat. I have seen as many as twenty tearin' savagely at awhale that was lyin' alongside a ship an' was bein' cut up by the crew. The California gray whale--the devil-whale is what he really is--looks alot worse to me than a killer. He's as ugly-tempered as a spearfish, asvicious as a man-eatin' shark, as tricky as a moray, an' about asrelentless as a closin' ice-floe. "

"There she blo-o-ows!" came the cry again from the crow's-nest. 

Hank, looking over the side, caught sight of the spout and, with a twistof the shoulder, walked aft to the first boat. 

"I'm going, too, " Colin reminded him. 

The old whaler looked at him thoughtfully and disapprovingly. 

"Orders is orders, " he said at last, "an' if the skipper said you couldgo, why, I reckon that ends it. An' if you're goin' anyway, you're saferin the big boat than in the 'prams. ' Tumble in. "

Colin clambered into the double-ended boat with its high prow and sternand settled himself down excitedly. 

"I never really believed I'd get the chance to see any whale-spearing, "he said. "Whaling with a cannon is only a make-believe. Now, this issomething like!"

"Foolishness I calls it, " put in one of the younger sailors. "Why don'tthe skipper put in somewhere an' get the gun put to rights? An' Hank isjust as likely to fix that gun so as he'll blow some of us up with itwhen he does get it goin'. "

"Always croakin', Gloomy, " said the old gunner. "Blowin' you up would beno great loss. You'd ought to be glad to see what whalin' was like whenyour betters was at it. "

"I'm glad, " said Colin, as he pulled steadily at his long oar, "that wedid wrench the gun-frame when that heavy sea came aboard. "

"I don't see it, " said the gunner; "mebbe you'll think presently thatyou'd ha' done better to be satisfied with readin' about whalin' inthose books of yours. "

"Well, it got me the chance to see the fun!" responded Colin. 

"That wouldn't have been enough to start this business a-goin' if ithadn't been that the _Gull_ was an old whalin'-ship before they putsteam into her. The little bits of whalin'-steamers they build now onlycarry a little pram or two, nothin' like this boat you're in now. The_Gull's_ one of the old-timers. "

"She hails from New Bedford, doesn't she?"

"She took the Indian Ocean whalin' in the sixties an' came round theHorn every season in the seventies, " Hank replied; "an' there's notmany of her build left. Easy with that oar, Gloomy, " he added, speakingto the melancholy sailor, who was splashing a good deal in his stroke, "an' avast talkin', all. "

Swiftly, but with oars dipping almost noiselessly, the boat slipped upto where the two whales were floating whose spouts had been seen fromthe ship. The sea was tinged with pink from the masses of shrimp-foodwhich had attracted the whales, and the great creatures were feedingquietly. The surface was not rough, but there was a long, slow rollwhich tossed the boat about like a cork. Presently Hank, who was in thestern, held up one hand. 

"Hold your starboard oars, " he said quietly; "we'll back up to thislargest one. "

This near approach to the whales was too much for Gloomy's nerves. Instead of merely holding his long sweep steady in the water so that thestroke of the port oars would bring the boat around, he tried to make along backward drive. As he reached back, the boat mounted sidewise on aswell, leaving Gloomy clawing at the air with his oar; then, the boat assuddenly swooped down with a rush, burying the oar almost to therow-locks; it caught Gloomy under the chin and all but knocked himoverboard. The splash and the shout distracted Hank's attention for asecond, and when he looked round a swirl of water was all that remainedto show where the whales had been. 

"I told you what it would be!" said Gloomy, picking himself up andspeaking in an injured tone, as though he blamed everybody else for hisown carelessness. 

His protests, however, were silenced by a steady stream of descriptiveepithet from Hank. The old gunner, without even raising his voice, withered any possible reply on the part of the clumsy sailor, whoseinexpertness had caused their failure to get the whale. 

"They were only humpbacks, however, " added Hank, after Gloomy had beenreduced to silence. Indeed, so shamefaced was the luckless sailor, thatwhen he saw a spout a minute or two later he only pointed with hisfinger, without saying a word. 

Noticing the gesture, Colin turned and saw with amazement a tall jet ofvapor that had spouted from a whale close by. He looked at Hankexpectantly, hoping to hear him spur the crew to a new venture, but theold whaler looked grave. 

"Finback?" the boy queried. 

"Gray whale, I reckon, " answered the gunner. 

"Devil-whale? Oh, Hank!" the boy cried, his eyes shining withexcitement. "I hope it is!"

"That shows how little you know, " the other replied. 

"Are you going to harpoon him?"

Hank looked at the boy, smiling slightly at his utter fearlessness. 

"I wish you were aboard the ship, " he said, "an' I would. But I reckonit's wiser to keep out of trouble. "

"But I don't want to be on the _Gull_, " Colin protested; "at least notwhen there's anything going on out here. And, " he added craftily, "Ididn't think you were really afraid!"

"Wa'al, " the old whaler said, his jaw setting firmly, "I don't wantanybody to think I'm backin' down, just because I'm in a boat again. ButI tell you straight, I don't like it. Gloomy, " he continued, "an' therest of you, stand by your oars. That's a gray whale an' I'm goin' afterhim. "

"How do you know it's a California whale, Hank?" asked the boy, as theywaited for the creature to reappear. 

"By the spout, " was the prompt reply. "It's not as high an' thin as afinback's, it's not large enough for the low, bushy spout of a humpback, an' it goes straight up instead of at a forward angle so it can't be asperm. Must be a gray whale, can't be anythin' else. "

For a few minutes the men rested on their oars, and Colin grew restless. 

"Why doesn't he come up again?" he said impatiently. "First thing weknow he'll be out of sight!"

The old whaler smiled again at the lad's eagerness. 

"While the gray is the fastest swimmer of all the whales, " he said, "youneedn't be afraid that we'll lose sight of him. Most whales swim veryslow, not much faster than a man can walk. "

"There he is, " called another of the sailors, pointing to a spout threeor four hundred yards away. 

"All right, boys, " Hank said, "he's makin' towards the shore. "

The long oars bit into the water again and Colin was glad to feel theboat moving, for it rolled fearfully on the long heaving swell. But withsix good oars and plenty of muscle behind them, the little craft wasnot long in reaching the place where the 'slick' on the water showedthat the whale had come up to breathe and then dived again. Acting underthe gunner's orders the crew rested on their oars a short distancebeyond the place where the whale had sounded. Presently, a couple ofhundred yards from the boat, on the starboard side, the whale came up tospout, evidently having turned from the direction in which it had beenslowly traveling, and the rowers made for the new objective. This timethere was another long wait. 

"How long do they stay down, Hank?" asked the boy. 

"No reg'lar rule about it, " the whaler answered; "sometimes for quite awhile, but I reckon ten to fifteen minutes is about the usual. Some of'em can stay down a long while sulkin' when they've got a harpoon or twoin 'em, but I reckon three-quarters of an hour would be about thelimit. "

Again the boat sped onward, this time without any order from Hank, forall hands had seen the whale not more than fifty yards away, and Hankgrasped the shoulder harpoon-gun. But before the boat could reach thewhale and turn stern on so as to give the gunner a good chance for ashot, the whale had 'sounded' or dived. 

"Next time, " said Hank quietly, and told Scotty, one of the sailors, toclear away the first few coils of the rope in the barrel and make surethat it was free from tangles. 

Colin noticed that the three places where the whale had spouted formed aslight arc and that Hank was directing the boat along a projection ofthis curve, so he was quite ready when a command came to stop rowing. Then, at the whaler's orders, the boat was swung round and the men heldtheir oars ready to back-water. 

The place could not have been picked out with greater accuracy if thewhaler had known the exact spot where the big cetacean was going toappear. Within thirty feet of the boat the water began to swirl andboil. 

"He's right there!" said Colin with a thrill of expectation not whollydevoid of fear. 

In obedience to a wave of the old whaler's hand, the boat went asternslowly and fifteen seconds later the great back appeared near thesurface and the monster 'blew, ' his pent-up breath escaping suddenlywhen he was still a foot below the surface, and driving up a column ofmixed water and air, the roar sounding like steam from a pipe of largesize. 

"Stand by the line, Scotty!" shouted Hank, as he raised the clumsyharpoon-gun to his shoulder. 

The sailor who had been standing near the barrel nodded, as he drew hissheath-knife from its sheath, holding it between his teeth, ready to cutthe line should a tangle occur, but keeping his hands free to attend tothe coils of rope. To Colin the seconds were as years while the oldwhaler held the gun raised and did not fire. It seemed to the boy as ifhe were never going to pull the trigger, but the old gunner knew theexact moment, and just as the whale was about to 'sound' the back heavedup slightly, revealing the absence of a dorsal fin, and thus determiningthat it was a devil-whale in truth; at that instant Hank fired. 

With the sudden pang of the harpoon the whale gave an upward leap for adive and plunged, throwing the flukes of the tail and almost a third ofhis body out of water, and sounded to the bottom, taking down line at atremendous speed. The line ran clear, Scotty watching every coil, andthough the heavy rope was soaking wet, it began to smoke with thefriction as it ran over the bow. 

[Illustration: WHALE HARPOON GUN LOADED AND BEING TURNED SO AS TO POINTAT THE WHALE. 

_Photograph by permission of Mr. Roy C. Andrews. _]

[Illustration: FINBACK WHALE BEING STRUCK WITH THE HARPOON; THE INSTANTOF DISCHARGE. 

A remarkable photograph, scores of plates having been used in the effortto catch the exact moment. Note the wadding in the air, the smoke, thehead of the harpoon, and the slick on the water as the whale sounded. 

_Photograph by permission of Mr. Roy C. Andrews. _]

"Fifty fathom!" cried Scotty, as the line flew out. 

"Sixty!" he called a moment later, and then, immediately after, "Seventy--and holding!"

As the pressure of the brake on the line tightened, the boat began totear through the water, still requiring the paying out of the rope. Foran instant it slackened and the winch reeled in a little line. There wasa sudden jerk and then the line fell slack. Working like demons, the menmade the winch handles fairly fly as the line came in, and withinanother minute the whale spouted, blowing strongly and sounding again. He sulked at the bottom for over twenty minutes, coming up suddenlyquite near the boat. Scotty had lost no time, and not more thanthirty-five fathom of line was out when the monster rose. 

"He's a big un, Hank!" called Scotty. "Want the other line?"

"Got it!" was the brief reply, and Colin saw that the harpoon-gun hadbeen reloaded. 

"Sounding again!" called Scotty as the rope fell slack. 

"No!" yelled Hank. "Stand by, all!"

Then suddenly:

"Back oars! Back, you lubbers! Hard as you know how!"

The oars bent like yew-staves. 

"Back starboard! Hard!"

With the blood rushing to his brain, Colin, who was on the starboardside of the boat, threw his whole energy into the back stroke, and theboat spun round like a top into what seemed to be the seething center ofa submarine volcano, for, with a roar that made the timbers of the boatvibrate, the gray whale spouted not six feet from where the boy wassitting. Dimly he saw the harpoon hurtle through the spray and the sharpcrack of the explosion sounded in his ear. 

Catching his breath chokingly, Colin was only conscious of the fact thathe was expected to pull and he leapt into the stroke as the six oarsshot the boat ahead. 

Not soon enough, though! For, as the boat plunged from the crest of awave the whale swirled, making a suction like a whirlpool into which thecraft lurched drunkenly. Then the great creature, turning with a speedthat seemed incredible, brought down the flukes of his tail in thedirection of the boat, snapping off the stroke oar like a pipe-stem. Avidsen, the oarsman, a burly Norwegian, though his wrist was sharplyand painfully wrenched by the blow, made no complaint, but reached outfor one of the spare oars the boat always carried. 

Colin was not so calm. Despite his courage, the shock of that tremendoustail striking the water within arm's-length of the boat had shaken hisnerve, and the sudden drenching with the icy waters of Behring Sea hadtaken his breath away. But he was game and stuck to his oar. Looking atHank, he saw that the old fighter of the seas had dropped theharpoon-gun and was holding poised the long lance. 

This was hunting whales with a vengeance!

The monster had not sounded but was only gathering fury, and in a fewseconds he came to the surface with a rush, charging straight for theboat. 

"Stand by to pull, " said Hank quietly. 

The two forward oars, watching, dipped lightly and moved the boat a yardor two, then waited, their oars in the water and arms extended for thestroke. Colin would have given millions, if he had possessed them, topull his oar, to do something to get away from the leviathan charginglike an avenging fury for the little boat. But Hank stood motionless. Another second and Colin could almost feel the devil-whale plungingthrough the frail craft, when Scotty suddenly yelled, "Pull!"

As Scotty yelled, Colin vaguely--for everything seemed reeling abouthim--saw Hank lunge with the long steel lance. The suction half whirledthe boat round, but the whale sounded a little, coming up to the surfaceforty feet away and spouting hollowly. Even to the boy's untrained earthere was a difference, and when he noticed that blood was mixed withthe vapor thrown out from the blowhole, his hope revived. The secondrush of the whale was easily avoided, and Hank thrust in the lanceagain. Then, for the first time, the old whaler permitted himself tosmile, a long, slow smile. 

"That's the way it used to be done in the old days!" he said, with justa shade of triumph in his voice. "Pull away a little, boys, to be clearof the flurry. Have you a buoy ready, Scotty?"

The sailor nodded. 

"There won't be much of a flurry, Hank, " he said; "you got the lungswith the lance both times. "

The old whaler looked at Colin, who was a little white about the lips. 

"Scared you, I reckon?" he said. "You don't need to feel bad over that. Any one's got a right to be scared when a whale's chargin' the boat. I've been whalin' for nigh on forty-five years an' that's only thesecond devil-whale I've ever killed with a hand-lance. He pretty nearcaught us with his flukes that first time, too!"

"Guess that's the end of him, " said Scotty, as the big animal beat theair with his tail, the slap of the huge flukes throwing up a fountain ofspray. 

"That's the end, " agreed Hank. 

Almost with the word the great gray whale turned, one fin looming abovethe water as he did so, and sank heavily to the bottom, the buoy whichhad been attached to the harpoon-line by Scotty showing where he sank, so that the ship could pick up the carcass later. 

"How big do you suppose that whale was?" queried the boy as they startedto pull back to the ship. 

"'Bout forty-five foot, I reckon, " was the reply, "an' we ought to getabout twenty barrels of oil out of him. "

"That ought to help some, " said Colin, "and you see my coming didn'thurt anything. Just think if I had missed all that fun!"

"It turned out all right, " the old whaler said, "but I tell you it was anarrow squeak. They'll have been worryin' on board, though, if any onehas been able to see that we were hitched up to a gray whale. "

"Isn't there any danger with other whales?"

"Wa'al, you've got to know how to get at 'em, of course. But all you'vegot to do is to keep out o' the way. There's no whale except theCalifornia whale that'll charge a boat. I did know one chap that waskilled by a humpback, but that was because the whale come up suddenlyright under the boat and upset it--they often do that--an' when one ofthe chaps was in the water the whale happened to give a slap with histail an' the poor fellow was right under it. "

Colin was anxious to start the old whaler on some yarns of the earlydays, but as the boat was nearing the ship he decided to wait for anopportunity when there would be more time and the raconteur would havefull leeway for his stories. 

"Forty-five-footer, sir, " called Hank, as they came up to the ship. "Gray devil, sir. "

The captain lifted his eyebrows in surprise, for he had not thought of aCalifornia whale so far north, but he answered in an offhand way:

"More sport than profit in that. Did you have a run for your money, Colin?"

"I certainly did, Captain Murchison, " the boy answered. 

"All right, tell me about it some time. Hank, you're on board just inthe nick of time. I found out what the trouble was with the carriage ofthe gun and repaired it while you were amusing yourselves out there. Getin lively, now, there's work to do. "

The men scrambled on board rapidly, and the boat was up in the davits inless than a minute, while the yards were braced round, and under sailand steam the _Gull_ headed north. 

"There's four whales in sight, Hank, " said the captain; "humpbacks, Ithink, and two of them big ones. "

"If they'll bunch up like that, sir, " the gunner said, "we may make agood trip out of it yet. "

"I hope so, " the skipper answered, and turning on his heel, he went tothe poop. Thither Colin followed him and told him all the story of thewhale. The captain, who was an old friend of Colin's father when theyboth lived in a lumbering town in northern Michigan, was greatly takenaback when he found how dangerous the boat-trip had been, but he did notwant to spoil the boy's vivid memories of the excitement. 

"I suppose, " he said, "that you want to go out as gunner next time. "

Colin shook his head. 

"I'm generally willing to try anything, Captain Murchison, " he replied, "but I'm content to let Hank look after that end. "

"Hank's an unusual man, " the captain said quietly. "I rather doubt ifany other man on the Pacific Coast could have won out with a gray whale. I'd rather have him aboard than a lot of mates I know, and as a gunner, of course, he's a sort of petty officer. "

The canvas began to shake as the boat turned on its course after thewhales, catching the skipper's eye, and he roared out orders to shortensail. 

"Clew up fore and main to'gans'ls, " he shouted; "take in the tops'ls. Colin, you go and furl the fore to'gans'l, and if the men are still busyon the tops'l yards, pass the gaskets round the main to'gans'l as well. "

"Aye, aye, sir, " the boy answered readily, for he enjoyed being aloft, and he clambered up the shrouds to the fore-topgallant yard and furledthe sail, taking a pride in having it lie smooth and round on the top ofthe yard. 

"What's the difference between a 'finback' and a 'humpback, ' Hank?"asked the boy, after the canvas had been stowed, the vessel underauxiliary steam having speed enough to keep up with the cetaceans, "arethey 'right' whales?"

"Neither of 'em, " the gunner replied: "there's two kinds of right whale, the bowhead and the black, and both have fine whalebone, an' that, asyou know, is a sort of strainer in the mouth that takes the place ofteeth. Humpbacks an' finbacks are taken for oil, an' they look quitedifferent. A humpback is more in bulk an' has only a short fin on theback, it's a clumsy beast an' throws the flukes of the tail out of thewater in soundin'. Now, a finback is built more for speed an' has a bigfin on the back--that's where it gets its name. The big sulphurbottom isa kind of finback, an' is the largest animal livin'. I've seen oneeighty-five feet long!"

"Where does the sperm whale come in?" asked Colin. 

"It's got teeth, like the gray whale, " was the reply, "but you neverfind it in cold water. Sperm whalin' is comin' into favor again. Butthose two over there--the ones we're after, are finbacks. You can tellby the spout, by the fin, by not seein' the flukes of the tail, an' bythe way they play around, slappin' each other in fun. "

Three hours were spent in the fruitless chase after this little group ofwhales. Then Hank, who had been standing in the bow beside the gun, watching every move of the cetacean during the afternoon, suddenlysignaled with his hand for "full speed astern, " by this maneuverstopping the ship squarely, as a whale--a medium-sized finback--came upright under the vessel's bow. The reversed screws took the craft asternso as to show the broad back about twenty-five feet away, and Hankfired. 

The crashing roar of the harpoon-gun was followed by a swirl as thewhale sounded for a long dive, but a moment later there came a dull, muffled report from the water, the explosive head of the harpoon, knownas the 'bomb, ' having burst. For a minute or two there was no sound butthe swish of the line and the clank of the big winch as it ran out, while the animal sank to the bottom. There was a moment's wait, andthen Hank, seeing the line tauten and hang down straight, called back:

"We can haul in, sir; I got him just right. "

Compared to the excitement of the chase in the open boat this seemedvery tame to Colin, and he said so to the captain, when he went aft, while the steam-winch gradually drew up the finback whose end had comeso suddenly. 

"My boy, " was the reply, "I'm not whaling for my health. Other peoplehave a share in this, besides myself and the crew, and what they'reafter is whales--not sport. The business isn't what it was; in the olddays whale-oil was worth a great deal and whaling was a good business. Then came the discovery of petroleum and the Standard Oil Company soonfound out ways of refining the crude product so that it took the placeof whale-oil in every way and at a cheaper price. "

"But I thought whalebone was what you were after!" said Colin insurprise. 

"It was for a time, " the captain answered, "after the oil business gaveout. But within the last ten years there have been so many substitutesfor whalebone that its value has gone down. There's a lot of whalebonestored in New Bedford warehouses that can't be sold except at a loss. "

"Well, if the oil is replaced and whalebone has no value, what is to begot out of whaling now, then?" the boy queried. 

"Oil again, " was the reply; "for fine lubricating work there's nothingas good. It's queer, though, how things have changed around. Fifty yearsago, New Bedford was the greatest whaling port in the world, ten yearsago there wasn't a ship there, they had all gone to San Francisco. Now'Frisco is deserted by whalers, and the few in the business have goneback to the old port. "

In the meantime, while Colin had been telling the story of the adventurewith the gray whale, and the captain had been bemoaning the decay of thewhaling industry, the work of bringing the dead whale to the surface hadbeen under way. Letting out more slack on the rope attached to theharpoon a bight of it was passed through a sheave-block at the masthead, thus giving a greater purchase for the lifting of the heavy body. Thewinch was run by a small donkey-engine, and for about ten minutes theline was hauled in, fathom after fathom being coiled on the deck. Presently, as Colin looked over the rail, the dark body of the whalewas seen coming to the surface, and as he was hauled alongside a chainwas thrown around his flukes, and the body was made fast to the vessel, tail foremost. 

Just as soon as the whale was secured a sailor jumped on the body, carrying with him a long steel tube, pierced with a number of holes forseveral inches from the bottom. To this he attached a long rubber tube, while the other end was connected with a small air-pump. The ever-handydonkey-engine was used to work the pump, and the body of the whale wasslowly filled with air in the same way that a bicycle tire is inflated. 

"What's that for?" asked Colin, who had been watching the process withmuch curiosity. 

"So that he will float, " the captain answered. "You can't tow a whalethat's lying on the bottom!"

"But I thought you were going to cut him up!"

"And boil down the blubber on board?"

"Yes. "

"That's very seldom done now, " the captain explained. "In the old days, when whaling-ships went on three and four year voyages they 'fleshed'the blubber at sea and boiled it down or 'tried it out, ' as they calledit, into oil. They always carried a cooper along, too, and made theirown barrels, so that after a long voyage a ship would come back with herhold full of barrels of whale-oil. "

"What's the method now, Captain Murchison?" asked Colin. 

"Nearly all whaling is done by steamers and not very far from the coast, say within a day's steaming. We catch the whales, blow them out in theway you see the men doing now, and tow them to the nearest 'trying out'factory. These places have conveniences that would be impossible onshipboard, they get a better quality of oil, and they use up all theanimal, getting oil out of the meat as well as the blubber. Then theflesh is dried and sold for fertilizer just as the bones are. The finsand tail are shipped to Japan for table delicacies. Even the water inwhich the blubber has been tried out makes good glue. So, you see, itpays to tow a whale to the factory. And besides, the smell of trying outon one of the old whalers was horrible beyond description. "

During this explanation the huge carcass of the whale had been distendedto almost twice its natural size, and now it floated high out of thewater. The steel tube was pulled out and a buoy with a flag wasattached to the whale, which was then set adrift to be picked up andtowed to the factory later. 

[Illustration: FINBACK WHALE SOUNDING. ]

[Illustration: LANCING FINBACK: GIVING THE DEATH-BLOW. ]

[Illustration: PUMPING CARCASS WITH AIR SO THAT IT WILL FLOAT. ]

[Illustration: DEAD FINBACK SET ADRIFT WITH BUOY AND FLAG. 

_All Photos by permission of Mr. Roy C. Andrews. _]

Almost immediately the "tink-tink" of the bell of the signaler to theengine-room told that the ship was headed after another whale. The seawas rising and the wind was beginning to whistle through the rigging. Colin felt well satisfied that the canvas was stowed and that he wouldnot have to go aloft during the night. The evening light, however, wasstill good enough for a shot, and Hank, at the bow, was swinging theheavy gun from side to side on its stand to assure himself that it wasin good condition. 

Owing to the approaching darkness, there was no time to wait for anexact shot, and Hank fired at the big finback on the first opportunity. The ship was rolling and pitching, however, and the harpoon, instead ofstriking the big whale, went clear over her and into the water beyond, crashing into the side of a little calf whale not more than sixteen feetlong, the weapon going almost through him. 

Apparently unconscious of what had happened to her baby, the motherwhale sounded and sounded deep, not coming up for nearly twentyminutes. When she rose, she was at least a quarter of a mile away, andColin, who was standing by Hank in the bow, wondered why the ship didnot go in pursuit. 

"Why don't we chase her up?" he asked. 

"She'll come lookin' for her calf, " the old whaler answered, "an' aslong as we stay near that she'll come up to us. Lots of whalers shootthe calves a-purpose, makin' it easier to get the old whales, but Idon't hold with that. I've never done it. Shootin' this one was just anaccident, but as long as the little chap is dead anyhow, we might aswell make use of him. "

Just as the old whaler had predicted, in less than five minutes themother whale spouted, coming in the direction of the vessel. In lessthan five minutes more she spouted again, just a little distance fromthe calf. Not understanding what had happened, she swam around as thoughto persuade the little one to follow her, and as she circled round thecalf she came within range of the harpoon-gun. It was far too dark tosee clearly, but Hank chanced a shot. The sudden roar startled Colin. 

"Did you get her?" he asked anxiously. 

"I hit her, all right, " the gunner answered with a dissatisfied air, "but not just where I wanted. "

The boy thought it wonderful that he should have been able to hit themonster at all, so small a portion of the body was exposed and soheavily was the _Gull_ pitching. The whale, instead of soundingdirectly, dived at a sharp angle and the line ran out like lightning. 

"What's that, Hank?" asked Colin in a startled voice, pointing over tothe water just below the little calf, which had been hauled in by handalongside the ship. 

"Killers, by all that's holy!" ejaculated the whaler. "They'll get everyblessed whale we've landed to-day. Did you ever see such luck!"

"What are they after?" asked Colin, "the calf whale?"

"Yes, or any other of 'em. See, the mother has smelt 'em and knows theymean harm for the baby. "

It was growing dark and Colin leaned over the rail to see. Suddenly upfrom the deep, with a rush as of a pack of maddened hounds, ten or adozen ferocious creatures, from fifteen to twenty feet in length, snatched and bit and tore at the body of the baby whale. A big whitespot behind each eye looked like a fearful organ of vision, their whiteand yellowish undersides and black backs flashed and gleamed and the bigfins cut the water like swords. The huge curved teeth gleamed in thereddened water as the 'tigers of the sea' lashed round, infuriated withlust for blood. 

Then with a violent gesture of reminder, as though he had forgotten thatwhich was of prime importance, Hank took a few quick steps to the ropethat held fast the baby whale to the ship and cut it with hissheath-knife. 

"What's that for?" said Colin. 

"Let's get away from here, " Hank replied, and signaled to go ahead. 

As he did so, the mother whale caught sight of the remains of the bodyof the little one sinking through the water and dashed for it. Colincould have shouted with triumph in the hope that vengeance would beserved out upon the orcas, but he was not prepared for the next turn inthe tragedy. Like a pack of ravening wolves the killers hurledthemselves at the mother whale, three of them at one time fasteningthemselves with a rending grip upon the soft lower lip, others strikingviciously with their rows of sharp teeth at her eyes. The issue was notin doubt for a minute. No creature could endure such savage ferocity andsuch united attack. The immense whale threshed from side to side, alwaysround the vessel, which seemed still to carry to her the scent of thebaby whale. 

"Has she any chance?" the boy asked, full of pity for the victim of suchrapacity. 

"Not the ghost of a chance, " the whaler answered. 

For a minute or two the whale seemed to have thrown off her demon foesand turned away, but scarcely a moment was she left alone, for up infront of her again charged five or six killers, rending and tearing ather head, and the whale, blinded, gashed in a thousand places andmaddened by fear and pain, fled in the opposite direction. 

Colin heard the captain give a wild cry from the poop and felt theengines stop and reverse beneath him. He cast one glance over the railand like every man on board was struck motionless and silent. In thephosphorescent gleams of the waves churned up by the incredible muscularpower of the killers, the old whale--sixty feet in length at least, andweighing hundreds of tons--was rushing at a maddened spurt of fifteenor even twenty miles an hour straight for the vessel's side, where ablind instinct made her believe her calf still was to be found. Therewas a death-like pause and then--a shock. 

Almost every man aboard was thrown to the deck, and the vessel heeledover to starboard until it seemed she must turn turtle. But she rightedherself, heavily and with a sick lurch that spoke of disaster. Theship's carpenter ran to the pumps and sounded the well. 

"Four inches, sir!" he called. 

A moment later he dropped the rod again. 

"Five and a half inches, sir, " he cried, "an' comin' in fast. "

It hardly needed the carpenter to tell the story, for the ship had aheavy list to starboard. In a minute or two the stokers came up frombelow and close upon their heels, the engineer. 

"The water is close to the fire-boxes, Captain Murchison, " he said. 

"I know, Mr. Macdonald, " the captain answered. "Boat stations!" hecried. 

"I'm thinkin', " the engineer said quietly, looking at the windy sky andstormy sea, the last streaks of twilight disappearing in the west, "I'mthinkin' it may be a wee bit cold. Are we far from land, Captain?"

"We're none too close, " the skipper said shortly. "Cook, " he called, "are the boats provisioned?"

"Yes, sir, " was the reply. 

"Water-casks in and filled?"

Every boat reported casks in good condition. 

"Sound the well, carpenter. "

The sounding-rod was dropped and the wet portion measured. 

"Nine inches, sir. "

"You've got time to get what you want from below, boys, " said thecaptain, as soon as the boats were all swung out on the davits; "shewon't go down all of a hurry. Slide into warm clothes, all of you, andget a move on. Stand by to clear. "

He waited a minute or two, then noticed one of the sailors busy on deck. 

"What are you doing there, Scotty?" he called out. 

"Putting a buoy on the line, sir; she's our whale. "

"Looks to me more as though the whale had us, than we had the whale, "the captain said grimly. "Are you all ready?" he added as the men cameup from the fo'c'sle in oilskins and mittens. "No, there's only fifteenof you!"

"I'm here, Captain Murchison, " spoke up Colin, emerging from thecompanion hatch with a heavy pilot coat. "I thought you'd need somethingfor the boats, too. "

The captain nodded his thanks. 

"Lower away the whale-boat first, " the captain said. "Never mind me, I'll come along presently. Look alive there! That's the idea, Hank! Allright? Cast off. Lower away the big pram! All right. Get busy on thatsmall pram, there. Here you, Gloomy, if I have to come down there----!All ready? Lower away. If you don't manage any better than that you'llnever see land, I can tell you. Cast off. "

The _Gull_ was rolling heavily with an uneven drunken stagger that toldhow fast she was filling, and the starboard rail was close to thewater's edge. The captain ran his eye over the boats and counted the mento see that all had embarked safely. 

"Don't bring her too close, Hank!" he cried warningly, as he saw the oldwhaler edge the boat toward him, and stepping on the poop-rail, hejumped into the sea. But the gunner, judging accurately the swell of thewaves, brought the boat to the very spot where the captain had struckthe water and hoisted him on board. Without a word he made his way tothe stern and took the tiller. 

The boat pulled away a score of strokes or so and then the men rested ontheir oars. The sunset colors had faded utterly but a dim after-glowremained, and overhead a young moon shone wanly through black wisps ofscudding cloud. The _Gull_ sank slowly by the bow. 

"She's one of the last of the old-timers, " said the captain sadly. "Thiswas her seventieth whaling season and that's old age for ship as well asman. I wish, though----"

"What is it, Captain Murchison?" asked Colin. 

"Ah, it's nothing, boy, " was the reply. "Only we're foolish over thingswe love, and the _Gull_ was all that I had left. It's a dark and lonelydeath she's having there. I wish----"

"Yes, sir?" the boy whispered. 

"I wish she'd had her lights, " the captain said, and his hands weretrembling on the tiller, "it's hard to die in the dark. "

For a moment Colin had a wild idea of leaping into the sea and swimmingto the sinking craft, and blamed himself bitterly for not having lookedafter the port and starboard lights at sundown, as he often did when thewatch on deck was too busy to see to them. He would have given anythingto have done it, rather than to have to sit beside the captain with hiseyes fixed on the desolate unlighted ship! Boy though he was, he nearlybroke down. 

"Good-by, _Gull_, good-by, " he heard the captain whisper under hisbreath. 

Then, as if the ache in the boy's heart had been a flame to cross thesea, it seemed that a tiny spark kindled upon the sinking ship, and thecaptain, speechless for the moment, pointed at it. 

"Is that a light, boy?" he said hoarsely, "or am I going mad?"

Like a flash, Colin remembered. 

"It's the binnacle, sir, " he cried; "I lighted it for the man at thewheel myself. "

Solemnly the captain took off his hat. 

"It's where the light should be, " he said at last, "to shine upon hercourse to the very end. "

CHAPTER II

THE FIGHT OF THE OLD BULL SEALS

The quick, uneasy pitching of the boat and a sudden dash of ice-coldspray roused the captain from the fit of abstraction into which thesinking of his ship had plunged him. 

"Step the mast, men, " he said; "we've got to make for the nearest land. It's going to be a dirty night, too. "

"Did you want us to put a reef in, sir?" asked the old whaler. 

"When I want a sail reefed, " the captain answered shortly, "I'll tellyou. "

As the mast fell into place and the sail was hoisted, the whale-boatheeled sharply over and began to cut her way through the water at a goodspeed, leaving the two prams far in the rear. The captain, who wassteering mechanically, paid no heed to them, staring moodily ahead intothe darkness. Hank looked around uneasily from time to time, then in afew moments he spoke. 

"The mate's signaling, I think, sir, " he said. 

Colin looked round but could only just see the outline of the larger ofthe two boats, and knew it was too dark to distinguish any motions onboard her. He looked inquiringly at Hank, but the old gunner waswatching the captain. 

"What does he want?" questioned the captain angrily. 

"Orders, sir, I suppose, " the whaler answered. 

The captain felt the implied rebuke and looked at him sharply, butalthough he was a strict disciplinarian, he knew Hank's worth as aseaman of experience and kept back the sharp reply which was upon hislips. Then turning in his seat he realized how rapidly they had spedaway from the boats they were escorting, and said:

"I'll bring her up. "

He put the tiller over and brought the whale-boat up into the wind, andin a few minutes the mate's boat and the smaller pram came alongside. 

"Don't you want us to keep together, sir?" cried the mate as soon as hewas within hearing. 

"Of course, " the captain answered. "You can't keep up, eh?"

"Not in a breeze like this, sir, " the mate declared. 

"All right, then, " was the response; "we'll reef. " He nodded to thegunner and the reef points were quickly tied, thus enabling the threeboats to keep together. 

As the night wore on the wind increased until quite a gale was blowing, and the whale-boat began to plunge into the seas, throwing spray everytime her nose went into it. The oilskins shone yellow and dripping inthe feeble light of a lantern and although it was nearly the end of Junea cold wind whipped the icy spume-drift from the breaking whitecaps. 

"Doesn't feel much like summer, Hank!" said Colin, shivering from coldand fatigue, also partly from reaction following his exciting adventurewith the gray whale. 

"Behring Sea hasn't got much summer to boast of, " the old whalerreplied; "leastwise not often. You may get one or two hot days, but whenthe sun goes down the Polar current gets in its work an' it's cold. "

"Where do you suppose we're going, Hank?" the boy asked, with a firmbelief that the old whaler knew everything. "I don't like to botherCaptain Murchison. "

"Nor I, " the gunner answered, looking toward the stern of the boat;"let him fight his troubles out alone. As for where we're goin', I don'tknow. I can't even see the stars, so I don't know which way we'reheadin'. "

"Do you suppose we'll strike Alaska?" Colin queried. "Or perhaps thenorth of Japan? Say, it would be great if we fetched up at Kamchatka orsomewhere that nobody had ever been before!"

The lad's delight in the thought of landing at some inhospitablenorthern island off the coast of Asia was so boyish that in spite of thediscomfort of their present position, the old whaler almost laughedoutright. 

"Japan's a long ways south of here, " he said. "We'd strike the Aleutianor the Kuril Islands before we got near there. I reckon we ought to tryfor some place on the Alaska coast, but as I remember, the wind was deadeast when we left the _Gull_ an' I don't think it's changed much. "

Colin gave a long yawn and then shivered. 

"I wouldn't mind being in my berth on the _Gull_!" he said longingly;"I'm nearly dead with sleep. "

"Why don't you drop off?" Hank advised. "There's nothin' you can do tohelp. Here, change places with me an' you won't get so much spray. "

"But you'll get it then!" the boy protested. 

"If I had a dollar for every time I've got wet in a boat, " the oldwhaler answered, "I wouldn't have to go to sea any more. "

He got up and made Colin change places. 

"Are you warmer now?" he asked a minute or two later. 

"Lots, " the boy murmured drowsily, and in a few seconds he was fastasleep. The old whaler gently drew the boy towards him, so that he wouldbe sheltered from the wind and spray, and held him safe against therolling and pitching of the little boat. The long hours passed slowly, and Colin stirred and muttered in his dreams, but still he slept onthrough all the wild tumult of the night, his head pillowed against Hankand the old whaler's arm around him. 

He wakened suddenly, with a whistling, roaring sound ringing in hisears. Dawn had broken, though the sun was not yet up, and Colin shiveredwith the wakening and the cold, his teeth chattering like castanets. Adamp, penetrating fog enwrapped them. Four of the sailors were rowingslowly, and the sail had been lowered and furled while he was asleep. Every few minutes a shout could be heard in the distance, which wasanswered by one of the sailors in the whale-boat. 

"Where's the mate's boat, Hank?" asked the boy, realizing he had heardonly one shout. 

"She got out of hailin' distance, a little while before breakfast, " theother answered, "but that doesn't matter so much, because she can't verywell get lost now. "

"But why is the sail down?"

The old whaler held up his hand. 

"Do you hear that noise?" he asked. 

"Of course I hear it, " the boy answered; "that's what woke me up. Butwhat is it?" he continued, as the roar swelled upon the wind. 

"What does it sound like?" the gunner asked him. 

The boy listened carefully for a minute or two and then shook his head. 

"Hard to say, " he answered. "It sounds like a cross between Niagara anda circus. "

Scotty, who had overheard this, looked round. 

"That's not bad, " he said; "that's just about what it does sound like. "

"But what is the cause of it, Hank?" the boy queried again. "I neverheard such a row!"

"Fur seals!" was the brief reply. 

"Seals?" said Colin, jumping up eagerly. "Oh, where?"

"Sit down, boy, " interrupted the captain sternly; "you'll see enough ofseals before you get home. "

"All right, Captain Murchison, " Colin answered; "I'm in no hurry to behome. "

In spite of his recent loss the captain could not help a grim smilestealing over his face at the boy's readiness for adventure, no matterwhere it might lead. But he had been a rover in his boyhood himself, andso he said no more. 

"Why, there must be millions of seals to make as much noise as that!"Colin objected. 

"There aren't; at least, not now, " was Hank's reply. "There were tens ofmillions of fur seals in these waters when I made my first trip out herein 1860, but they've been killed off right an' left, same as thebuffalo. The government has to protect 'em now, an' there's no pelagicsealin' allowed at all. "

"What's pelagic sealing?" asked Colin. 

"Killing seals at sea, " the whaler answered. "That's wrong, because youcan't always tell a young male from a female seal in the water, an' thefemales ought never to be killed. But you'll learn all about it. Begpardon, sir, " Hank continued, speaking to the captain, "but by the noiseof the seals those must be either the Pribilof or the CommanderIslands?"

"Pribilof, by my reckoning, " the captain answered. "Do you hear anythingof the third boat?"

"No, sir, " answered the old whaler, after shouting a loud "Ahoy!" towhich but one answer was returned, "but we'll see her, likely, when thefog lifts. "

"Doesn't lift much here, " the captain said. "But with this offshorewind, they ought to hear the seals three or four miles away. "

In the meantime the whale-boat was forging through the water slowly andthe noise of the seals grew louder every minute. The sun was rising, butthe fog was so dense that it was barely possible to tell which was theeast. 

"Funny kind of fog, " said Colin; "seems to me it's about as wet as thewater!"

"Reg'lar seal fog, " Hank replied. "If it wasn't always foggy the sealswouldn't haul out here, an' anyway, there's always a lot of fog arounda rookery. Must be the breath of so many thousands o' seals, I reckon. "

[Illustration: SPEARING SEALS AT SEA. 

Pelagic sealing by Aleut natives now forbidden by the governments of theUnited States, Great Britain, Russia, and Japan. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Pretty things, seals, " said the boy. 

"Where did you ever see any?" his friend queried. 

"Oh, lots of places, " Colin answered, "circuses and aquariums and placeslike that. I even saw a troupe of them on the stage once, playing ball. They put up a good game, too. "

"Those weren't the real fur seals, " Hank replied; "what you saw were thecommon hair seals, an' they're not the same at all. You can't keep furseals alive in a tank!"

"There are two fur seals in the aquarium of the Fisheries Building atWashington, " interposed the captain, "but those are the only two. "

"There!" cried the boy, pointing at the water; "there's one now!"

"You'll see them by hundreds in a few minutes, boy, " the captain said. "I think I make out land. "

As he spoke, an eddy of wind blew aside part of the fog, revealingthrough the rift a low-lying island. Within a minute the fog had closeddown again, but the glimpse had been enough to give the captain hisbearings. The noise from the seal-rookery had grown deafening, so thatthe men had to shout to one another in the boat and presently--and quiteunexpectedly--the boat was in the midst of dozens upon dozens of seals, throwing themselves out of the water, standing on their hind flippers, turning somersaults, and performing all manner of antics. 

"Why don't we land?" asked Colin, as he noticed that the boat wasrunning parallel with the shore instead of heading directly for it. 

"Land on a seal-rookery?" said Hank. "Haven't you had trouble enoughwith whales so far?"

"Would seals attack a boat?" asked Colin in surprise. 

"No, you couldn't make 'em, " was the instant reply, "but I never heardof a boat landin' at a rookery. The row would begin when you gotashore. "

Gradually the boat drew closer to the land, as close, indeed, as waspossible along the rocky shore, and then the land receded, forming ashallow bay flanked by two low hills on one side and one sharper hill onthe other. The captain rolled up his chart and headed straight for theshore. 

"St. Paul, I reckon, " said Hank, as the outlines of the land showedclearly, "but I don't jus' seem to remember it. "

"Yes, that's St. Paul, " the captain agreed. "It has changed since yourtime, Hank. There has been a lot of building since the government tookhold. "

"Why, it looks quite civilized!" exclaimed Colin in surprise, as he sawthe well-built, comfortable frame houses and a stone church-spire whichstood out boldly from the hill above the wharf. 

"When I first saw St. Paul, " said the old whaler, "it looked just aboutthe way it was when the Russians left it--huts and shacks o' the worstkind an' the natives were kep' just about half starved. "

"It's different nowadays, " said the captain as they drew near the wharf, putting under his arm the tin box that held the ship's papers. "TheAleuts are regular government employees now and they have schools andgood homes and fair wages. Everything is done to make them comfortable. I was here last year and could hardly believe it was the same settlementI saw fifteen years ago. "

It was still early morning when the boat was made fast to the wharf, andColin was glad to stretch his legs after having slept in a crampedposition all night. The damp fog lay heavily over everything, but thevillagers had been aroused and the group of sailors was soon surroundedby a crowd, curious to know what had happened. Hank, who could speak a'pigeon' language of mixed Russian and Aleut, was the center of a groupcomposed of some of the older men, while Colin graphically described toall those who knew English (the larger proportion) the fight with thegray whale, and told of the sinking of the _Gull_ by the big finback, maddened by the attack of the killers. He had just finished a stirringrecital of the adventures when the other two boats from the _Gull_loomed up out of the fog and made fast to the wharf. 

Hearing that the only breakfast the shipwrecked men had been able to getwas some cold and water-soaked provender from the boat, two or three ofthe residents hurried to their homes on hospitable errands bent, and ina few minutes most of the men were thawing out and allaying the pangs ofhunger with steaming mugs of hot coffee and a solid meal. So, when thecaptain came looking for Colin that he might take him to the Fisheriesagent's house, he found the lad--who was thoroughly democratic in hisways--breakfasting happily with the sailors and recounting for thesecond time the thrills and perils of the preceding day. 

Rejoining the captain an hour or so later at the house to which he hadbeen directed, Colin was effusively greeted by the assistant to theagent, a young fellow full of enthusiasm over the work the Bureau ofFisheries was doing with regard to fur seals. A natural delicacy hadkept him from troubling Captain Murchison, but as soon as he discoveredthat Colin was interested in the question and anxious to find out all hecould about seals, he hailed the opportunity with delight. 

"I've just been aching for a chance to blow off steam, " he said. "It'san old story to the people here. Obviously! I don't think they halfrealize how worth while it all is. I'm glad to have you here, " hecontinued, "not only so that we can help you after all your dangers, butso that I can show you what we do. "

"I'm still more glad to be here, " Colin replied, after thanking him. "I've been trying to persuade Father to let me join the Bureau, but thisis such an out-of-the-way place that I never expected to be able to seeit for myself. "

"It is a little out of the way, " the official replied. "But in someways, I think it's the most important place in the entire world so faras fisheries are concerned. It's the one strategic point for a greatindustry. Of course!"

"Why is it so important, Mr. Nagge?" Colin queried. "Just because of theseals, or are there other fisheries here?"

"Just seals, " was the reply, in the jerky speech characteristic of theman. "Greatest breeding-place in the world. You'll see. Nothing like itanywhere else. And, what's more, it's almost the last. This is the onlyfort left to prevent the destruction not of a tribe--but of an entirespecies in the world of life. Certainly!"

"Calling it a fort seems strange, " Colin remarked. 

"Well, isn't it? It's the heroic post, the forlorn hope, the last standof the battle-line, " the Fisheries enthusiast replied. "All the nationsof the world were deliberately allowing all the fur seals to be killedoff. Uncle Sam stopped it. It's not too late yet. The Japaneseseal-pirates must be exterminated absolutely! Could you run a ranch ifevery time a steer or cow got more than three miles away from the corralanybody could come along and shoot it? Of course not. Obviously!"

"But this isn't a ranch!"

"Why not? Same principle, " the assistant agent answered. "Ranchers breedcattle in hundreds or thousands. We breed seals in hundreds ofthousands; yes, in millions. And a fur seal is worth more than a steer. Oh, yes!"

"Do seals breed as largely still?" Colin asked in surprise. 

"Would if they had the chance, " was the indignant answer. "Undoubtedlymillions and millions have been killed in the last fifty years. Takestime to build up, too! Only one baby seal is born at a time. A run-downherd can't increase so very fast. But we're getting there. Certainly!"

"Our gunner was telling me, " Colin said, "that killing seals at sea wasthe cause of all the trouble. "

"Yes. Lately. Before that, rookery after rookery had been visited andevery seal butchered. Old and young alike. No mercy. Worst kind ofcruelty. "

"But hasn't the sea trouble been stopped?" queried the boy. "I thoughtit had, but you said something just now about seal-pirates. "

"Stopped officially, " his informant said. "Can't kill a seal in theocean, not under any consideration. That is, by law. Not in Americanwaters. Nor in Russian waters. Nor in Japanese waters. Nor in the opensea. International agreement determines that. Of course. But lots ofpeople break laws. Obviously! Big profit in it. There's a lot of killinggoing on still. Stop it? When we can!"

"But how about killing them on land?" Colin asked. "You do that, I know, because I've read that the Bureau of Fisheries even looks after theselling of the skins. While it may be all right, it looks to me asthough you were killing them off, anyhow. What's the good of saving themin the water if you wipe them out when they get ashore. "

"You don't understand!" his friend said. "Got anything to do right now?"

"Not so far as I know, " Colin answered. 

"You've had breakfast?"

"Yes, thanks, " the boy answered, "and I tell you it tasted good after anight in the boat. "

"Come over to the rookery, " the assistant agent said. "I'm going. Icount the seals every day. That is, as nearly as I can. Tell you allabout it. If you like, we'll go on to the killing grounds afterwards. Yes? Put on your hat. "

Colin realized that his host seldom had a listener, and as he was reallyanxious to learn all that he could about the fur seals, these creaturesthat kept up the deafening roar that sounded like Niagara, he followedinterestedly. 

"Looks a little as if it might clear, " he suggested, as they left thehouse. "We could stand some sunshine after this fog. "

The other shook his head. 

"Don't want sunshine, " he said. "Fog's much better. "

"What for?" asked Colin in surprise. "Why should any one want fog ratherthan sunshine?"

"Fur seals do, " was the emphatic response. "No seals on any other groupsof islands in the North Pacific. Just here and Commander Islands. Why?"

"Because they are foggier than others?" hazarded Colin at a guess. 

"Exactly. Fur seals live in the water nearly all year. Water is colderthan air. Seals are warm-blooded animals, too--not like fish. They'vegot to keep out the cold. "

"Is that why they have such fine fur?"

"Obviously. And, " the Fisheries official continued, "under that closewarm fur they have blubber. Lots of it. "

"Blubber like whales?"

"Just the same. Fur and blubber keeps 'em warm in the cold water. Toomuch covering for the air. Like wearing North Pole clothing at theEquator. If the sun comes out they just about faint. On bright days theyoung seals make for the water. Those that have to stay on the rookerylie flat on their back and fan themselves. Certainly! Use their flippersjust the way a woman uses a regular fan. See 'em any time. "

Colin looked incredulously at his companion. 

"I'm not making it up, " the other said. "They fan themselves with theirhind flippers, too. Just as easy. "

"I think they must be the noisiest things alive, " said Colin, puttinghis fingers in his ears as they rounded the point and the full force ofthe rookery tumult reached them. 

"The row never stops, " the assistant agent admitted. "Just as much atnight as daytime. Seals are used to swimming under water where light isdimmer. Darkness makes little difference. Seemingly! Don't notice itafter a while. "

"The queer part of it is, " the boy said, listening intently, "that thereseem to be all sorts of different noises. It's just as I said cominginto the bay, it sounds like a menagerie. I'm sure I can hear sheep!"

"Can't tell the cry of a cow fur seal from the bleating of an oldsheep, " was the reply. "The pup seal 'baa-s' just like a lamb, too. Funny, sometimes. On one of the smaller islands one year we had a flockof sheep. Caused us all sorts of trouble. The sheep would come runninginto the seal nurseries looking for their lambs when they heard a pupseal crying. The lambs would mistake the cry of the cow seal for thebleating of their mothers. "

"Why do you call the mother seal a cow seal?" asked the boy. 

"Usual name, " was the reply. 

"Then why is a baby seal a pup?" asked Colin bewildered. "I should thinkit ought to be called a calf!"

The Fisheries official laughed. 

"Seal language is the most mixed-up lingo I know, " he said. "Motherseal is called a 'cow, ' yet the baby is called a 'pup. ' The cow sealsare kept in a 'harem, ' which usually means a group of wives. The wholegathering is called a 'rookery, ' though there are no rooks or otherbirds around. The big 'bull' seals are sometimes called 'Sea-Catches' or'Beachmasters. ' The two-year-olds and three-year-olds are called'Bachelors. ' The 'pups, ' too, have their 'nurseries' to play in. "

But Colin still looked puzzled. 

"Our gunner was talking about 'holluschickie'?" he said. "Are those adifferent kind of seal?"

"No, " was the reply, "that's the old Russian-native name for bachelors. There are a lot of native words for seals, but we only use that one and'kotickie' for the pups. "

"If the cow seals bleat, " said Colin, "and the pups 'baa' like a lamb, what is the cry of the beachmaster?"

"He makes the most noise, " the agent said. "Never stops. Can you hear along hoarse roar? Sounds like a lion!"

"Of course I can hear it, " the boy answered; "I thought that must be asea-lion. "

"A sea-lion's cry is deeper and not so loud, " his friend replied. "No. That roar is the bull seal's challenge. You're near enough to hear asort of gurgling growl?"

"Yes, " said Colin, "I can catch it quite clearly. "

"That's a bull talking to himself. Then there's a whistle when a fightis going on. When they're fighting, too, they have a spitting cough. Sounds like a locomotive starting on a heavy grade. Precisely!"

"Do they fight much?" the boy asked. 

"Ever so often!" his informant replied. "Can't you hear the puffing?That shows there's a fight going on. I've seldom seen a rookery withouta mix-up in progress. That is, during the early part of the season afterthe cows have started to haul up. There's not nearly as much of it now, though, as there used to be. "

"Could I see a fight?" the boy asked eagerly. 

"Hardly help seeing one, " was the reply. "Watch now. We're just at therookery. Immediately!"

Turning sharply to the left, the older man led the way between two pilesof stones heaped up so as to form a sort of wall, and shut off at thesea end. 

"What's this for?" asked Colin. 

"Path through the rookery. Want to count the seals every once in awhile, " the agent said. "Must have some sort of gangway. Obviously!Couldn't get near enough, otherwise. "

"Why not?" queried Colin. "Would the beachmasters attack you?"

"They won't start it, " was the reply. "Sea-catch keeps quiet unless hethinks you're going to attack his harem. About two weeks ago, I onlyjust escaped. Narrow squeeze. Wanted to get a photograph of one of thebiggest sea-catches I had ever seen. Took a heavy camera. The sea-catchdidn't seem excited. Not particularly. So, I came up quite close tohim. "

"How close, Mr. Nagge?"

"Ten or twelve feet. Just about. I got under the cloth. Focused him allright. Then slipped in my plate. Just going to press the bulb when hecharged. Straight for me. No warning. I squeezed the bulb, anyhow;grabbed the camera and ran. Promptly!"

"Did he chase you far?"

"A few yards. I knew there was no real danger. Best of it was that theplate caught the bull right in the act of charging! I've got a print upat the house. Show you when we get home!"

"I'd like to see it, ever so much, " the boy answered. 

As they came to a gap in the wall, the agent halted. 

"There!" he said. "That's a rookery. "

In spite of all that he had heard before of the numbers of seals, andalthough the deafening noise was in a sense a preparation, Colin wasdazed at his first sight of a big seal rookery. For a moment he couldnot take it in. He seemed to be overlooking a wonderful beach of roundedboulders, smooth and glistening like polished steel; here and therepieces of gaunt gray rock projected above and at intervals of aboutevery fifteen to forty feet towered a huge figure like a walrus with amane of grizzled over-hair on the shoulders and long bristlyyellowish-white whiskers. For a moment the boy stood bewildered, thensuddenly it flashed upon him that this wonderful carpet of seemingboulders, this gleaming, moving pageantry of gray, was composed ofliving seals. 

"Why, there are millions of them!" he cried. 

Right from the water's edge back halfway to the cliffs, and as far asthe eye could see into the white sea-mist, every inch of the ground wascovered. Looking at those closest to him, Colin noticed that they lay inany and every possible attitude, head up or down, on their backs orsides, or curled up in a ball; wedged in between sharp rocks or on alevel stretch--position seemed to make no difference. Nor were any ofthem still for a minute, for even those which were asleep twitchedviolently and wakened every few minutes. And over the thousands ofsilver-gray cow seals, the sea-catches, the lords of the harem, three orfour times the size of their mates, stood watch and ward unceasingly. 

"Why do you herd them so close together?" asked Colin. "I should havethought there was lots of room on the beaches of the island. "

"They herd themselves, " the agent said. "Don't go anywhere unless it iscrowded. The more a place is jammed, the more anxious they are to getthere. Newcomers won't go to empty harems. Unhappy with only one or twoother cows. Try and find room in a crowded bunch where one sea-catch islooking after thirty females. "

"But, " said Colin, looking at the group which was nearest to him, "thereare a lot of little baby seals in there! They'll get trodden on!"

"They are trodden on. Often, " said the agent. "Can't be helped. Only afew pups right in the harems and they are all small. Obviously! Go awaywhen they are a week old. Wander from the harem to find playfellows. Make up 'pods' or nurseries. Sometimes four or five hundred in onenursery. Stay until the end of the season. There's a pod of pups, " hecontinued, pointing up the beach; "about sixty of them, I should judge. Happy-looking? Clearly!"

"They look like big black kittens, " said Colin, as he watched themtumbling about on the pebbly beach, "and just as full of fun. Can theyswim as soon as they are born, Mr. Nagge?"

"Seals have to learn to swim. Same as boys, " he answered. "They teachthemselves, apparently! Young seal, thrown into deep water, will drown. Queer. Become wonderful swimmers, too. "

"About how long does it take them to learn?" Colin asked. 

"Don't begin until they are three weeks old, " was the reply. "Practiseseveral hours a day. Swim well in about a month. "

"Why don't the father or the mother seals teach them?" queried the boy. 

"A sea-catch doesn't see anything outside the harem. As long as a pup iswithin twelve feet of him, he will fight on the instant if the baby isin danger. Once it is in the nursery the bull seal forgets the littleone's existence. He couldn't leave, anyway. Some other sea-catch wouldseize the harem. "

"You mean that the old seal can't get away at all?"

"Not at all, " was the reply. 

"Then what does he get to eat?" asked Colin in surprise, "do the cowseals bring him food?"

"Not a bite. No. He doesn't eat at all. Not all summer. "

"Never gets a bite of anything? I should think he'd starve to death, "cried the lad. 

"Fasts for nearly four months. From the time a sea-catch hauls up in Mayand preempts the spot he has chosen for his harem he doesn't leave thatspot eight to sixteen feet square until late in August. Stays rightthere. He's active enough in some ways. No matter how much he floundersaround, he keeps right on his own harem ground. He could hardly getaway from it if he tried. "

[Illustration: HOLLUSCHICKIE HAULING UP FROM THE SEA. 

Rare sketch, taken before ever a camera was seen on the PribilofIslands. This beach, with many others, is now deserted by the depletionof the seal herd. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

[Illustration: OLD BULL-SEALS FIGHTING. 

Rare sketch, taken on the Gorbatch Rookery, St. Paul's Island, fortyyears ago. These combats are growing rarer as the seal herd growssmaller and the rivalry between the beach-masters is less intense. Thedate on the sketch shows it to have been made before the cow-sealshauled up. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Why not?"

"He couldn't leave his own harem without getting into the next one. Obviously!" the agent promptly replied. "And he'd have to fight thatbeachmaster. Evidently! And so on every few feet he went. Besides, thevery moment his back was turned a neighboring bull would steal some ofhis cows. Certainly! Or, an idle bull would try and beat him out. "

"Which are the idle bulls?" asked Colin. 

"Those fellows at the back who came late or were beaten in the fight forplaces. They would charge down and take the harem, if he left it. "

"Well, then, how does he sleep?"

"Doesn't sleep much, " was the reply; "just little catnaps. Five or tenminutes at a time, perhaps. Light sleepers, too. If a cow tries to leaveor an intruder comes near he wakes right up. Immediately! He's on thealert, night and day. " The agent laughed. "Eternal vigilance is the bullseal's motto, all right!"

"But how can they stand it without food and without sleep?" Colin asked. "That's over three months of fasting. And it isn't like an animalthat's asleep all winter. It seems to be their busiest time, fightingand watching and all that sort of thing!"

"They live on their blubber, " the agent explained. "In the spring theyhaul up heavy and fat. Can hardly move around they're so fleshy. It'sthe end of June now. You see! Many bulls are loaded with fat still. Bythe end of next month, though, they'll be getting thin. Some of 'em arelike skeletons when they leave the rookeries in August. They'll fight tothe end, though. "

"But if they leave each other's harems alone, " Colin objected, "I don'tsee any cause for a fight. "

"The cows don't all come at the same time. Perhaps for six weeks thereare cows coming all the time. Those beachmasters who have harems nearestthe water want their family first and there's fighting all along thewater's edge, then. Other cows have to make their way inshore; any ofthe sea-catches may grab them. Wait a minute and watch. You'll see thescramble going on somewhere. There are two bulls fighting there, " headded, pointing to a combat in progress some distance off, "and there'sanother--and another. "

"Is that one of the new cows just coming in from the water?" askedColin, pointing to the shore, where a female seal, quietly and withoutattracting attention, had landed near one of the large harems. 

"Yes, " the agent said. "Just watch her a while. You'll see how thefighting begins. "

Moving quietly and slowly and making just as little disturbance aspossible, the incoming seal made her way through and over the recumbentseals, keeping as far as she could from the beachmasters. Those hugemonarchs of the waterside eyed her closely, but the harems were full tothe last inch of ground and they let her pass, the cow seal remainingquiet as long as the beachmaster was watching, then creeping on a yardor two. 

"She'll get caught by the next one, " said Colin. "See, there's justabout room enough in his harem for one more. "

But the cow managed to make her way past, the old bull being engrossedin watching a neighboring sea-catch whom he suspected of designs uponhis home. She had only succeeded in reaching a point about six haremsinland, however, when a bull with a small group of only about twelvecows, suddenly reached out with his strong neck, grabbed her by theback with his sharp teeth and threw her on the rocks with the rest ofhis company. As the sea-catch weighed over four hundred pounds and thecow not more than eighty--the poor creature was flung down most cruelly. 

"The brute!" cried Colin. 

But for some reason the cow was dissatisfied with her new master andtried to escape. The old sea-catch made a lunge forward and caught herby the back of the neck, biting viciously as he did so, in such wisethat the teeth tore away the skin and flesh, making two raw and uglywounds. 

Colin's indignation was without bounds. 

"I'd like to smash that old beast!" he said, and if the agent had notbeen there to stop him the boy would have jumped over the low wall andgone to the assistance of the cow seal. 

"That's going on all the time, " the agent said. "You can't settle theaffairs of ten thousand families. Not offhand that way. You'd be keptbusy if you tried to fight the battles of every female that hauls up onSt. Paul rookery. "

"But see, " cried Colin, "he's going after her again!"

This time the sea-catch was evidently angry, for he shook the cow as adog does a rat and tossed her back into the very center of the harem, standing over her and growling angrily. The agent looked on tranquilly. 

"There's going to be trouble, " he said. "See that idle bull coming?"

He pointed to the back of the rookery, and Colin saw a sea-catch of goodsize, though not as large as the bull whose savage attack on the cow hadexcited Colin's resentment, come plunging down through the rookery withthe clumsy lope of the excited seal. The cow squirmed from under thethreatening fangs of her captor, but just as he was about to punish herstill more severely, he caught sight of the intruder, and, with avicious snap, he whirled round to the defense. The newcomer, thoughpowerful, showed the dark-brown rather than the grizzled over-hair ofthe older bull, but while he had youth on his side, he was not theveteran of hundreds of battles. 

Both stood upright for a moment, watching each other keenly, but withtheir heads averted, then the younger bull, with a forward movement sorapid that it could hardly be followed, struck downward with his longteeth to the point where the front flipper joins the body. It was aclever stroke, but the old bull knew all the tricks of warfare andturned the flipper in so that the teeth of his opponent only gashed theskin, and at the same time the old bull jerked his head up and sidewise, and sank his teeth deep into the side of the neck of the younger bull. 

"He's got him, what a shame!" cried Colin, whose sympathies were allwith the younger fighter. 

The old sea-catch, paying no attention to the roaring and whistling ofhis wounded rival, kept his teeth fast-clenched in a bulldog-like gripand braced himself against the repeated lunges the other made to getfree. There could be but one result to this and, with an agonizedwrench, the younger bull pulled himself free--tearing out several inchesof skin and leaving a gaping wound from which the blood streamed down. 

But he was not defeated yet!

Facing his more powerful enemy, roaring unceasingly and with the shrillpiping whistle of battle, the younger bull fairly swelled with exertionand rage until he seemed almost the size of his big foe, his head dartedfrom side to side quick as a flash, and the revengeful, passionateeyes--so different from the limpid, gentle glance of the cowseals--flashed furiously as the blood poured down and reddened therocks around him. 

Again it was the younger bull who took the aggressive and, after acouple of feints, he reared and struck high for the face, just grazingthe cheek of the older bull and pulling out several of the stiffbristles on which his teeth happened to close, springing back in time toescape the double sickle-stroke of the sea-catch. The old bull roaredloudly and sprang forward, getting a firm hold of the younger by theskin behind the muscles of the shoulders. But he was a second too late, for as he closed his grip, the smaller fighter shifted and struck down, a hard clean blow, reaching the coveted point and half-tearing theflipper from the body. 

Undeterred by the injury, though the pain must have been intense, theold bull threw his weight upon the younger, bending him far over asthough to break the spine. Seals cannot move backward, and the smallerfighter was almost overbalanced. Then, seizing his chance, the oldbeachmaster let go his hold upon the other's back and got in a crashingblow at the same point where he had torn open the neck before, this timesinking his teeth so far in that the muscle of the shoulder showedplainly, and an instant later, although there seemed scarcely time tostrike a second blow, he swept down the body with his long, sharp teeth, catching the younger at the flipper-joint, and inflicting a wound almostexactly similar to that which he had received. 

Quick as a flash, the younger combatant gave up the fight. But as heturned, instead of merely crawling away defeated, he made a suddenconvulsive sprawl which the older bull was not expecting, and dug histeeth into the cow who had given rise to all the trouble, and lifted herbodily. The old beachmaster, his mane bristling with rage, made afterhim, but the younger bull, although he was forced to move on the stumpof his wounded flipper, held fast to his prize, even when the victorinflicted a fourth fearful wound. 

But before the old sea-catch could turn the plucky youngster, he saw twoother bulls sidling towards his harem, intending to steal his cows whilehe was off guard, and he lumbered back to repel the new intruders. Inthe meantime, the young bull was attacked on his way to his own stationby three other bulls near whose harems he had to pass, but he made noresistance and, though bleeding from a dozen wounds, he struggled on, leaving a gory trail in his wake, but gripping with grim determinationthe cow he had almost given his life to secure. When at last he reachedhis own station, he was a mass of blood from head to foot, his flesh washanging from him in strips and one of his fore-flippers was danglinguselessly. 

"He put up a plucky fight, anyway, " said Colin, "even if he did getlicked. "

But it was for the poor cow seal that Colin felt the most sympathy. Shelay upon the rocks where her second captor had thrown her, absolutelyunconscious and seemingly almost dead, wounded in several places andcovered with blood and sand, a wretched contrast to the pretty, gentleanimal which the boy had seen emerge from the water not fifteen minutesbefore. 

"It's a shame, " Colin said, speaking a little chokingly. "I didn't knowany animals could be so brutal. "

The agent glanced at him quickly. 

"The beachmasters are brutes, " he said, "but mostly among themselves. Notice. The bull isn't even licking his wounds. He's pretty well usedup, too. They're always too proud to show that they feel their hurts. Evidently! Even when they have been almost torn to pieces. "

"Then you think he won't die?"

"Not a bit of it, " the agent said cheerfully. "He'll be ready foranother fight to-morrow. "

"But how about the poor cow? She looks about dead now, " said Colin. 

"Not as bad as it looks! She's all right, " his friend replied. "Thosewounds don't go down into vital parts. They usually just reach theblubber. There isn't a sea-catch on the rookery that hasn't had from tento twenty fights already this year. Most of 'em have been at it forseveral seasons. Yet you can hardly notice a scar on them. As for themother seal, she will probably have a baby seal to-morrow. In a week thewounds will all have healed over. Cat may have nine lives, but a sealhas ninety!"

CHAPTER III

ATTACKED BY JAPANESE POACHERS

"That's life on a rookery, " the agent said. "Fight! Capture! More fight!But the holluschickie are different. Let's go to the hauling-grounds. "

"Is that where the killing goes on?" the boy asked. 

"Not quite, " was the reply. "The road to the killing-grounds beginsthere, though. Naturally! We don't take any seals from a rookery. "

"Why not?"

"No use! They are all either old bulls, females, or pups, " was theanswer. "The fur of the old sea-catches is coarse. Couldn't sell it. Never kill a cow seal under any circumstances. That's what all thetrouble in killing seals at sea is about. You can't tell a holluschickiefrom a cow seal in the water. Cruel, too. When a cow seal is on her wayto the rookery, she will have a baby seal in a few days. "

"The holluschickie, then, " said Colin, "don't come on the rookery atall?"

"Never! Absolutely! The bachelors, which are young male seals five yearsold and under, leave the rookery alone. The old sea-catches look afterthat. Certainly! It is mutilation or death for a holluschickie to put somuch as a flipper on a rookery. They seldom try. Therefore, thehauling-grounds are at a distance. Obviously! Sometimes, though, it isimpossible for the holluschickie to get to the sea without having tocross the rough, rocky ground which is suitable for a rookery. "

"How can they work it, then?"

"The sea-catches leave a road eight feet wide, no more, no less. Thispath through the rookery gives just room for two holluschickie to pass. The beachmasters whose harems are on either side of this road watchthem. They keep their lookout from a station right beside the road. Ifone of the holluschickie touches a cow on either side of this clearroad-space, he will be attacked savagely. "

"But I should think he could get away easily enough, " Colin objected, "because the sea-catch can't leave his harem. "

"Can't! Old bulls are all the way along, " the agent answered. "Every onewill attack a holluschickie who has once been attacked. No chance toescape. But the bachelors know that. They pass up and down such acauseway by thousands, night and day. They 'don't turn to de right, don't turn to de lef', but keep in de middle ob de road, '" quoted theagent, laughing. 

"And you say that all the furs, then, are taken from among theholluschickie?" queried the boy. 

"Every one of them. "

"But how do you hunt the bachelor seals?"

The agent stared at him in surprise, and then burst into a short peal oflaughter. 

"Hunt? How do you hunt pet puppies?" he queried, in reply. "Theholluschickie are the tamest, gentlest creatures in the world. Here arethe hauling-grounds now. Let's go down. You'll see how tame they are. "

"But it's like a dancing-floor or a parade-ground for soldiers!" criedColin as, reaching the top of the hill, he looked across a stretch ofupland plain at least half a mile across. There was not a blade ofgrass, not a twig of shrubbery of any kind, all had been beaten down andthe bare ground was as smooth as though it had been leveled off androlled. Upon this bare plain, thousands of the holluschickie wereplaying, the most characteristic game seeming to be a voluntary march ordance, when the bachelors would roughly gather into lines or groups andlope along at exactly the same speed together for about fifty feet, stopping simultaneously for a few moments, and then going on again, asthough obeying the commands of a drill-sergeant. 

"They don't seem to play with each other much, " commented Colin as thetwo walked among the holluschickie, who showed neither fear norexcitement, merely shuffling aside a foot or two to let them pass. 

"They do in the water, " the agent said. "Play 'King of the Castle' on aflat-topped rock for hours together. One seal pushes the other off thecoveted post, only to be dislodged himself a minute after. And I havenever once seen any sign of ill-humor. They never bite. They neverinjure one another. They never even growl angrily. It's hard to believethat their tempers can change so quickly when they reach the rookery. "

"They seem to be of all ages and sizes, " said Colin. 

[Illustration: BULL FUR-SEAL CHARGING THE CAMERA. 

_Courtesy of the National Geographic Magazine. _]

[Illustration: SNAPSHOTTING AN OLD BEACH-MASTER. 

This plate was recovered, although the photographer was drowned on thetreacherous shores of the Pribilof Islands the very day the picture wastaken. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Yearlings of both sexes and males from two years old to five, " theagent answered. 

"Do they fast all summer, too, like the sea-catches?"

"No, " was the reply. "No need for it. They go to sea every few days. Ifthe sun is out they stay in the sea. They make long journeys, too, justas the mother seals have to do, because a seal needs at least thirtypounds of fish a day to keep in good condition. All the nearbyfishing-grounds have been exhausted. "

"I suppose the different colors show the different ages?" the boysuggested. 

"Exactly, " the agent answered. "That's important, too. By law we areonly allowed to sell skins weighing between five and eight and a halfpounds. That means only those of males two and three years old. The skinof a yearling weighs just about four pounds and that of a four-year-oldmale eleven or twelve. "

"How about the two-year-old cow seals? You said that only the yearlingsamong the females were here. "

"The cow seals never come twice to the hauling grounds, " was the reply. "They go for the first time to the rookeries in their second year. "

"I should think it would be easy enough then to 'cut out' a herd, " theboy said. "I could pretty nearly do it myself. "

"Obviously! Without any trouble!" was the reply. "But you've got to goslow. "

"Why?" the boy queried. 

"If a seal is hurried he gets heated. You remember I told you how littlethey can stand. If a seal is killed after being heated, fur comes off inpatches and the skin is of no value. Let's go on. I have to tally thosethat are knocked down. "

"I thought you were going to drive some!" said Colin in a disappointedtone, as they turned away from the hauling-grounds along a well-beatenroad. 

"The drive started three hours ago and more, " was the reply. "Quarter ofa mile an hour is fast enough to make seals travel. You can drive asfast as a mile an hour, but lots will be left on the road to die fromthe exertion. Yet the same seals will swim hundreds of miles in a day. "

"But what can you do, then, on a warm day? Do you drive during thenight?"

"No seals here on a warm day, " was the immediate answer. "You saw allthose thousands of holluschickie on the hauling-grounds? If the sunwere to come out now, in half an hour there wouldn't be a seal on theentire flat. All disappear into the sea. Absolutely!"

"What is that group over there?" asked Colin, pointing to a smallcluster a short distance ahead of them, near some rough frame buildings. 

"That's the drive, " the agent answered. "The killing-grounds are alwaysnear the salt-houses. What's that? The smell? Worst smell in the world, I thought, when I first came here. You can't kill seals in the sameplace year after year and just leave the flesh to rot without having afrightful odor. One gets used to it after a while. "

"It seems to me that you're running the risk of starting up a plague orsomething!"

"No, " was the reply, "it has never caused any sickness here. Then thedrive is small now to what it used to be. Time was when three or fourthousand seals would be driven, where we only take a couple of hundrednow. Fallen off terribly! Fifty years ago, every available inch of allthe beach was rookery, settled as thick as in the rookery you saw justnow. The holluschickie were here in uncounted millions. These hills, nowovergrown with grass, show the soil matted with fine hair and fur wherethe seals shed their coats for hundreds of years. Now a few scatteredrookeries are all that remain. "

"Do you suppose the seal herd will ever be as big again?" the boy asked. 

The agent shook his head. 

"I'm afraid not. The governments interested won't keep up theinternational agreement long enough, " he said regretfully. "It wouldtake thirty or forty years. Yet it would be worth it. You see, " hecontinued, "this is absolutely the only place in the world where thetrue Alaskan fur seal--the sea bear, as it used to be called, because itisn't a seal at all--can be found. The fur seals on the Russian islandsare a different species. Those on the Japanese islands are differentfrom both. "

"You say a fur seal isn't a seal at all?" asked Colin. "What's thedifference?"

"Not the same at all. Different, entirely. Don't even belong to the samegroup of animal. They look differently. Their habits are unlike. Oh, they're dissimilar in every way. "

"Just how?" asked Colin curiously. 

"In the first place, the sexes of the hair or common seal are the samesize, not like the fur seal, where the sea-catch is four or five timesbigger than the female. Then they don't breed in harems and the malehair seal does not stay on shore. A fur seal swims with his foreflippers, a true seal with his hind flippers. A fur seal stands uprighton his fore flippers, a hair seal lies supine. A fur seal has a neck, ahair seal has practically none. A fur seal naturally has fur, the hairseal has no undercoat whatever. A pup fur seal is black, a pup hair sealis white. Different? Obviously! Pity the old name 'sea bear' died out. It would have prevented confusion between fur seal and true seal. "

With this beginning, the agent passed into a detailed description of theanatomy of the two different kinds of seal, and wound up with an earnestpanegyric of his fur seal family. By the time the agent had completedhis earnest defense of the sea bear, lest it should be confused with themore common seal, the two had reached the killing-grounds, where thenatives were awaiting the agent's word to begin their work. He steppedup to the foreman of the gang and with him looked over the first 'pod'of about fifty that had been selected for killing, noting one or twothat looked either too young or too old or with fur in bad condition, and these points settled, he gave the word to begin. 

The 'pod' of seals was surrounded by eight men, each armed with a clubabout five and a half feet long, the thickness of a baseball bat at oneend and three inches in diameter at the other. Behind him, each of thenatives had laid his stabbing-knife, skinning-knife, and whetstone. Atthe word the killing began. Each native brought down his clubsimultaneously, the first blow invariably crushing the slight, thinbones of the fur seal's skull and stretching it out unconscious. The sixor seven seals that fell to each man's share were clubbed in less than aminute for the lot. 

The Aleuts then dropped their clubs and dragged out the stunned seals sothat no one of them touched another, and taking their stabbing-knives, drove them into the hearts of the seals between the fore flippers. In nocase did Colin see any evidence that the seal had felt a moment'ssuffering. 

"Now, " said the agent, "watch this, if you like seeing skilful work. Skinning has got to be done rapidly. Precisely! Else the seal will'heat' and spoil the fur. "

Watching the native nearest to him, Colin noticed that he rolled theseal over, balancing it squarely on its back. Then he made half a dozensweeping strokes--all so expert and accurate that not a slip was madewith the knife, nor was any blubber left on the skin. In less than twominutes, by the watch, he had skinned the seal, leaving on the carcassnothing but a small patch of the upper lip where the stiff mustachegrows, the insignificant tail, and the coarse hide of the flippers. 

The whole sight was a good deal like butchery, and Colin felt a littleuncomfortable. Moreover, he was not hardened to the odor arising fromthe blubber of the seal. He beat a retreat. 

"I beg your pardon, Mr. Nagge, " he called, holding his handkerchief tohis nose, "but that's too much for me. "

The agent turned and noticed his departure. He called back to the boy:

"Do you see that low hill? To the right of that ruined hut?"

"Yes, " Colin responded. 

"Just below that are some sea-lions! Go and take a look at them. I'lljoin you as soon as we are through here. Won't be long. But you'll haveto stalk them to the leeward if you want to get close, " he added, "they're shy. I'll meet you there and we'll go back to dinner. Youought to be hungry by then. "

"I will be, then, " Colin responded cheerfully, adding under his breath, as he glanced back over his shoulder at the killing-grounds, "but I'mnot now!"

A short walk through the long moss a-glitter with wild flowers, poppies, harebells, monkshood, and a host of sub-Arctic species, brought the ladto the top of the hill. There he paused a moment, to look over theisland, treeless save for dwarf willows six inches high and aground-dwelling form of crowberry. Below him, and some distance away, were the sea-lions, but even from that coign of vantage they looked sobig and menacing that Colin wondered whether they might not stalk him, instead of his stalking them. 

After a little scrambling, however, he found himself at the bottom ofthe cliff, and made his way as carefully as he could to the sea-lionrookery. But when he did come near and rounded a large boulder in orderto get a fair view, he was inclined to think that shyness was the lastidea he would have gained from the looks of sea-lions. Near him, almosterect on his fore flippers, was an old bull, a tremendous creature, wellover six feet in height and weighing not less than fifteen hundredpounds. 

Apart from size, he was a much more vicious-looking creature than thesea-catch; the tawny chest and grizzled mane gave him a true lion-likelook, and an upturned muzzle showed the sharp teeth glistening whiteagainst the almost black tongue, while a small wicked, bulldog eyeglittered at the intruder. The female sea-lion, near by, was almost aslarge as a six-year-old bull seal. 

Wanting to see something happen, and realizing from the build of thesea-lion that he could not make much progress on land, Colin threw astone at a pup sea-lion who was asleep on a rock close by. 

But the boy was utterly unprepared for the result, for no sooner did thehuge sea-lion realize his advance as he strode forward to throw thestone, than it was smitten with panic. When, moreover, it heard the'crack' of the pebble as it hit a rock behind him, the cowardly creaturewent wild with fear, and made convulsive and clumsy efforts to reach thewater ten feet away, tumbling down twice in doing so, and finallyplunging into the ocean trembling as though with ague. At the alarm, the entire rookery took flight, leaving the pups behind, sprawling onthe rocks. The parents ranged up in a line about fifty feet from shoreand remained at that safe distance as long as Colin was in sight. Hewatched the pups for a little while, but they were not nearly asinteresting as seals, and he was quite ready to go when his friendhailed him from the top of the hill. 

"Sea-lions look sort of human in the water, don't they?" remarked Colinas he rejoined his friend, and turned for a farewell glance at thecreatures with their upright heads and shoulders and inquisitive look. 

"The Aleuts say they are, " his friend replied. "They declare theirancestors were sea-lions or seals. That's a general belief on the northcoast of Scotland and in the Hebrides, too. "

"That men came from seals?"

"Certainly. What do you suppose started all the mermaid stories? Roundhead, soft tender eyes, and a fish's tail? Seals! Obviously! And, if younotice old pictures of mermaids the tail is drawn as if it were split intwo, just like the two long flippers of the seal. "

"I never thought of that before, " said the boy. 

"You've heard of the Orforde merman, of course, haven't you?"

Colin admitted his ignorance. 

"Queer yarn. Quite true, though, " the agent said. "Documents show it. Ithappened off the coast of Suffolk, England. About the end of the twelfthcentury, I think. Some fishermen caught a creature which they describedas being like an old man with long gray hair, but which had a fish'stail. It could live out of the water just as well as in it. They broughtit to the Earl of Orforde. In spite of all their efforts they could notteach the merman to speak. Naturally! So the priest of the parishsuggested that perhaps the creature had something to do with the devil. Characteristic of the time! So they took the 'merman' to church. But itshowed no sign of adoration and didn't seem to understand theceremonies. So they were convinced that it was an evil thing, and put itto the torture, hoping to extract a confession from--a seal!"

"But there are mermaids!" said Colin. "I've seen 'em. Not alive, ofcourse, but stuffed. "

"So have I, " the agent said, laughing; "that was a trick the Japaneseused and fooled a lot of people. Why, there was one in a museum inBoston for years! It was a fake, of course. Obviously!"

"How did they do it?"

"Head and shoulders of a newly-born monkey fastened to a fish's body. Iforget now what fish. Then with incredible pains, they laid rows uponrows of fish scales all over the monkey's shoulders and chest. Wonderfulwork. Each scale was glued on separately, beginning from scales almostmicroscopic and shading both in size and color exactly into those of thefish hinder portion. The work was so exquisitely done that itsartificiality could not be detected. But live mermaids haven't been putin any aquarium. Not yet!"

"I don't suppose there's even a water-baby left!" the boy said, laughing. 

"No, " was the reply. "We couldn't give it any milk now, the sea-cowshave been all killed off. "

"Sea-cows?"

"Big creatures, bigger even than walruses. Lots of them here some time. We find their bones everywhere. Nearly all our sled-runners are made ofsea-cow bones. They grazed like cattle below water on the seaweeds ofthe shore and the natives used to spear them at low tide. "

[Illustration: CATCH OF HERRING ON BEACH AT GASTINEAU CHANNEL, ALASKA. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Are there walruses here, too?"

"I saw three a few years ago, but none since. About two hundred milesnorth of here, however, on St. Matthew's Island, there used to be scoresof them. But I reckon hunters and polar bears, between them, havedestroyed most of them. "

"Do polar bears come here in winter?"

The agent shook his head. 

"The Pribilof Islands are not cold enough for a polar bear. Besides helikes walrus meat better than seal. Bear eats a lot of fish, too. "

"I thought they lived almost entirely on seals. "

"They couldn't very well, " was the reply. "Seal is a better swimmer thana bear, although the polar bear is a marvel in the water for a landanimal and can overhaul a walrus. The big white fellows only catch sealwhen basking on the ice. They get a good many that way. The hunters haveleft nothing to the Pribilofs except the fur seal and the sea-lion, andnot many of those. And unless we can find a way to stop theseal-pirates, those will soon be gone, too. "

"Do you have much trouble with that sort of thing?" the boy asked. 

"A lot nearly every year. We won't have so much of it now. GreatBritain, Japan, Russia, and the United States are united in the desireto prevent pelagic sealing. Good thing, too. A treaty has been signed, forbidding it for fifteen years. So you see, a seal poacher on therookeries finds everybody against him. "

"Wasn't there a lot of trouble some years ago?" Colin asked. "I heardthat there was real fighting here. "

"Indeed there was, and lots of it! No one, not even the United StatesGovernment, ever knew how much. While the islands were leased to aprivate company the beaches were patrolled by riflemen. Russian andJapanese schooners frequently sent off boatloads of armed men during afog, to kill as many seals as possible, protecting their men by gunfire. But that was before the Bureau of Fisheries took hold!"

"Has there been any of that lately?"

"Not recently. The last was in 1906, when seven men were killed. The twoschooners, the _Tokaw Maru_ and the _Bosco Maru_, were seized andconfiscated. Promptly! The men were taken to Valdez. They were convictedand sent to prison. "

"Well, that's desperate enough, " the boy said, "but, after all, there'ssomething daring about it. It's the pelagic sealing that seems so meanto me. "

"It may be daring enough, " the agent admitted. "The way I feel about it, though, is that it seems worse to kill a cow fur seal than a humanbeing. There are lots of people in the world. The human race isn't goingto die out, but the small remnant of fur seals on the Pribilof Islandsis absolutely the last chance left of saving the entire species fromextinction. So, " he concluded with a laugh, as they went into thevillage, "don't let your enthusiasm for a piece of daring tempt you toturn seal-pirate. "

Colin laughed, as he nodded to his host, and went to see after one ofhis new pets, a blue fox pup which had been given him that morning byone of the natives. 

Evening seemed to come early because of the dense fog, the damp mistwhich had been present all day settling down heavily. Colin wasthoroughly tired, but not at all sleepy, and he wandered aimlesslythrough the village for a while after supper. 

"I wonder if there's a storm coming?" he said to the agent. "I have asort of feeling that something's going to happen. "

"It may blow a little fresh, " was the reply. "That's all. The barometerdoesn't seem disturbed. "

"I must be wrong then, " said Colin, suppressing a yawn, "but I have aqueer sort of excited feeling. "

"Better take it out in sleep, " was the advice given him. "We're allgoing to turn in soon. Even if you did get a nap this afternoon, youought to be tired after last night. "

The boy could see nothing to be gained by arguing the point, and therewas nothing special to do, so he waited a few minutes and then went upto his room, though he had never felt less like sleeping. He got intobed, however, but tossed about uneasily for hours, the distant roaringof the seals on the rookery and other unaccustomed noises keeping himawake. And ever, through it all, Colin was conscious of thispresentiment of some trouble on hand. Suddenly, this feeling rushed overhim like a flood and, impelled by some force he could not resist, hesprang from bed and hurried to the window. 

The fog had thinned considerably, but it was still so misty that hecould only just see the edge of the bleak shore where the little wavesrolled in idly, looking gray and greasy under the fog. He leaned hisarms on the sill, but aside from the seal-roar, everything seemedpeaceful and the lad was just about to turn away from the window in thefeeling of miserable anger that comes from being tired but not able tosleep, when he saw a flash of light. 

Startled, and with every nerve stimulated to alertness, he watched, andagain he saw the light. Straining his eyes Colin could just distinguishthe figure of a man with a gun on his shoulder and a lantern in hishand, making his way to the coast end of the village. 

"Some one who has been making a night of it!" the boy muttered tohimself with a short laugh, and got back into bed. 

But the figure of the man with the gun and the lantern in his hand hadimpressed itself on his mind, and though he tried to dismiss the ideaand go to sleep, every time he closed his eyes he seemed to see the mango walking silently through the village. Presently he sat bolt uprightin bed. 

"The native huts are all at the other end of the village!" he said halfaloud, with a surprised suspiciousness. "Why was he going that way?"

The boy rose and went back to the open window. It seemed to him thatthere was more tumult from the rookery than when he had listened half anhour before, but it occurred to him that this was probably the result ofthe silence of the hour and his own restlessness. Then, not loudly, butdistinctly, in spite of its being muffled by the fog, the sound of arifle-shot came to his ears. 

That settled it for Colin. If there was anything going on in the way ofsport he wanted a share in it, and as he was wide awake, he decided tofollow up and see what was going on. He slipped into his clothes asquickly as possible and tiptoed his way down the rickety stairs. Butbefore he had gone many steps an unaccustomed thought of prudence struckhim, and he walked back to a house three or four doors from where he hadbeen staying, the home, indeed, of the villager who had given him thepet fox, and in which Hank had taken up quarters. He knocked on thewindow and immediately Hank appeared. 

"What is it?" he queried. "Oh, it's you, Colin. Why aren't you in bed?"

"I was, " the boy answered, and in a few words he told how he had seenthe native go by with a gun and a lantern and had heard the shot fired afew minutes ago. 

"Sounds like smugglin', " the old whaler said, after a minute's thought. "Well, there's no great harm in that. That is, I don't think so, thoughthe gov'nment chaps might say different. "

"Smuggling?" queried Colin; "poaching. Do you mean seal-poaching? Oh, come along, Hank, and let's find out. "

"What's the use of huntin' trouble?" said the old man. "Go back to bed. "

"Not much, " retorted the boy; "if you don't want to come, I'll go, anyway. "

"If you're goin' anyway, " grumbled the old whaler, "I reckon it's no usemy sayin' anythin' to stop you. But I s'pose, " he added, and he wassecretly as curious as the boy, "I'd better go along with you to seethat you don't get into any more mischief than you have to. "

"You're coming, then?" asked Colin impatiently. 

"I'll be right out, " the other answered, and he had hardly disappearedfrom the window when he appeared at the door. He slipped a revolverinto his pocket and handed another to Colin. 

"I've got a gun, " the boy said. 

"All right, " responded Hank, "I'll pack this one along, too, " and heslipped it into one of the pockets of his big reefer. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes until they had passed the endof the village, and then Hank put his hand on the boy's arm. 

"You've got a right hunch, " he said abruptly, in a low voice. "There'ssomethin' in the wind. "

"What makes you think so?" asked Colin. 

The other pointed vaguely to sea. 

"There's a ship out there, " he said. 

Colin did his utmost to pierce the gloom, but the fog had settled downagain, the night was dark, and the boy could scarcely see the wavesbreaking on the shore not twenty feet away. 

"I can't see anything, " he said. "Whereabouts?"

"I don't know just where, " the old sailor replied, "but I know she'sthere. I feel it. "

"Let's hurry!" said the boy. 

"Better go slower, " warned Hank, pulling him back gently; "we're not farfrom the rookery. "

"I don't see why we should be so careful, and I don't see why we shouldwhisper, " Colin objected, whispering nevertheless; "the seals are makingnoise enough to drown a brass band. "

"Listen!" said Hank. 

The boy put his hand to his ear, trying to distinguish sounds in thecontinuous roar. 

"Voices?" he queried with a puzzled look. 

"I thought so, " the whaler nodded. There was a pause, while bothlistened, then the gunner said:

"It isn't English and it doesn't sound like Aleut or Russian. "

"Japanese?" queried the boy at a guess. 

The man grasped the boy's shoulder with a grip that nearly dislocatedit. 

"Japanese raiders!" he said. "Can you run?"

"You bet, " said Colin, growing excited; "I'm a crack runner. "

"Get back to the agent's house as fast as you know how an' wake him up. He'll know what to do. "

"What are you after, Hank?" asked the boy, tightening his belt. 

"Whatever comes along, " was the terse reply. 

Colin pitched off his heavy coat and started. It was over a half-milerun, but the boy was in good condition and the path was smooth, so thattwo minutes saw him at the agent's bedroom door. 

"Eh? What's that? Japanese raiders! You've been dreaming, boy. Go backto bed. "

"Do I look as if I'd been dreaming?" Colin said indignantly. "How do yousuppose I could run myself out of breath in a dream? Hank was with me. He heard them, too, and sent me back to tell you. "

But the agent was already up and busy. 

"Wake the village!" he said shortly. 

Without waiting to find out how this should be done, Colin started offat a run, and picking up a killing club that lay handy, he sped down thevillage street, hitting a resounding 'whack' on every door as he passed. As he came back, up the other side of the street, the natives werestreaming out of their houses and Colin told them all to go to theagent, whereupon those who understood English started immediately, therest following. The agent was ready and had all his plans made, some ofthe men were sent to the boats, and arms for others were laid out. 

"They were right on Gorbatch rookery?" the agent asked. 

"Yes, sir, " Colin replied, "at the Reef Point end. "

The party was swinging along at a fast half-run over the sands that laybetween the edge of the village and the beginning of the rookery, andwith the rising of the moon the fog seemed to thin. 

"I had rather we were a little nearer before it gets too light, " theagent said, "but we'd better make the best use we can of our time. "

On reaching the wall, the agent vaulted lightly over it, the restfollowing suit, and to Colin's surprise the official led the way behindthe rookery, threading in and out between idle bulls, who made a displayof great ferocity but never actually attacked. The agent paid not theslightest heed to any of them, merely keeping out of reach of theirteeth. 

As they turned a corner, a cloud which had partly obscured the moonpassed and showed them an unexpected sight. Magnified into giganticforms by the fog were the figures of six men, apparently all armed, facing Hank, the old whaler, who, with both revolvers, was keeping themat bay. He was close to the shore, standing behind two old, wicked-looking beachmasters, who, in the unnatural light, appeared tobe twice their natural size. Hank let out a hail as soon as he saw thegovernment party coming to his assistance, but he did not relax hisvigilance. 

"I've got this bunch covered, " he said, "an' they can't get to theirboat. One load did get off. "

Hearing his shout the invaders turned quickly, but found themselvesoverpowered, for a dozen rifles were leveled at them. They knew, too, that natives who are trained to shoot fur seal in the water--as most ofthose men had done before pelagic sealing was stopped--could be countedon as good shots. 

The agent, who spoke sufficient Japanese for simple needs, demanded thesurrender of the raiders and asked which was the officer of the party. This question they refused to understand. 

"I suppose he went off in the other boat, " hazarded the agent. "That's apity. He stands a good chance of being shot!"

Colin looked up inquiringly. 

"How do you expect to catch him now?" he asked. 

"The fog is clearing away. Obviously!" the agent answered. 

"Quite a lot, " the boy admitted. 

[Illustration: A TYPICAL SEAL ROOKERY, HALF ABANDONED. 

Showing the massing of the harems, the watchful figures of thebeach-masters, and the idle bulls in the background. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Row-boat hasn't much chance against a launch, has it?"

"Oh, I see now, " Colin said understandingly; "you covered the water withanother party. "

"In a very swift gasoline launch we have. While you were waking thevillage, I got a wireless to a revenue cutter. I caught her at less thanfifteen miles away, and she's headed here now. "

He turned to the Japanese. 

"What is your ship? Schooner or steamer?" he asked. 

"Schooner, " was the reply. 

The agent rubbed his hands delightedly. 

"It's a clean haul, " he said. "Thanks to you, Hank. Principally. To theboy, too! We've caught six men red-handed right on the rookery, withdead seals, most of them females. The launch ought to intercept theboat. There's not wind enough for a schooner to get far away by the timethe revenue cutter arrives. Besides, the schooner will be short-handedsince we have six of the crew here. "

A sudden puff of wind lifted the fog still further and revealed theschooner herself, lying not far from shore. A row-boat was about onehundred and fifty feet from the vessel and the station launch was twohundred feet away, approaching from a different angle, but outspeedingthe row-boat. 

"A race!" cried Colin. 

It was a closer race than at first appeared. Under the strange light ofthe full moon shining grayly through the silvering mist upon the sealsin their countless thousands, the scene seemed most unreal. Before himappeared the principals in this dramatic encounter, revolvers and riflesin the hands of all parties, the Japs being still covered; while beyond, at sea, the two boats cleaving the water, their objective point theshadowy schooner, looking like a phantom ship, made a picture of weirdexcitement in an unearthly setting. The seconds seemed like hours. Therow-boat was nearer the schooner and was traveling fast, but the launchwas speeding even more rapidly, throwing up a high wave at the bow. Itlooked as though both boats would reach the schooner's side at the sameinstant. 

"She'll do it! She'll do it!" the boy exclaimed. "If only an oar wouldsmash!"

The Japanese, though not saying a word, were bending forward eagerly, watching the race with every nerve on the strain. 

Colin fairly danced with excitement, nearly bringing down on himself thewrath of a neighboring sea-catch, who was roaring angrily at thisintrusion. 

"If she only had another couple of horsepower----" he cried. 

The Japanese smiled. 

A port in the rail of the schooner opened and the muzzle of a smallswivel-gun projected, aimed full at the launch. Colin caught his breath. 

A puff of smoke followed, and a couple of seconds later the sharp crackof a small gun. A crash and a few sharp explosions were heard from thelaunch, but, so far as could be seen from the shore, no one was injured. The engine gave a 'chug-chug' or two--then stopped dead. 

Colin dropped his arms limply by his side in despair. 

The leader of the Japanese took a quick step forward and whispered aword or two to the nearest man, who passed it down the line. The agentstrained his ears to hear what was said, but could not distinguish thewords. 

"What's that you were saying?" he asked in Japanese. 

The man replied calmly, and in English. 

"We say nothing, " he answered blandly, "only that you have made bigmistakes. That is not our ship!"

The agent stared at him, but the Japanese smiled affably. 

"We are shipwreck on the island, " he said. "We not know what place itis, have no food, hungry, kill some seal for food, anybody do that. "

At this impudent and barefaced falsehood, the agent was tongue-tied, buthe turned to Hank. 

"These men say, " he said, "that they are shipwrecked sailors and do notbelong to that ship. Let's get this thing right. Tell us what you knowabout it. "

Hank straightened up. 

"After the boy left me, " he said, "I saw it wouldn't do any good totackle 'em at once, there bein' no way of gettin' at 'em from the shoreside. If I let 'em know they were watched, they would be off, sure, an'what I wanted was to find some way to head 'em off. I knew if you camedown the beach after 'em they'd have the start, an' you can't alwaysdepend on shootin' straight at night in a fog. "

"What did you do, then?" asked the agent. 

"I just slipped into the water, down by the end o' the causeway, " theold whaler said, "an' there were scores o' seals around, so that itdidn't matter how much I splashed. "

"You must be half a seal yourself, " the agent said. "Swimming amongrocks in the dark is no joke. "

"I had plenty of time, and I can swim a little, " the old man modestlyadmitted. "Wa'al, pretty soon I saw the boat an' I swam under water tillI came up right behind it. The Jap what was sittin' in it wasn'texpectin' any trouble an' as he was nid-noddin' and half asleep, I putone hand on the stern o' the boat, bringin' it down in the water. Withthe other hand I grabbed the back of a blouse-thing he was wearin' an'yanked him overboard. "

"You didn't drown him, did you, Hank?" asked Colin. 

"Not altogether, " the old whaler answered. "I held him under, though, until he was good an' full o' water an' had stopped kickin', an' then Iclimbed into the boat. Next time he came up I grabbed him an' took himaboard. The fog was pretty thick an' none o' the rest of 'em saw whatwas goin' on. In a minute or two I could see he was beginnin' to comeround an' I didn't quite know what to do. I didn't want to knock him onthe head, he hadn't done anythin' to hurt me, an' so I dropped therow-locks overboard, tossed the oars ashore--there they are, lyin' amongthe seals--an' got ashore myself. As soon as I was on solid ground Iuntied the painter what held the boat an' set it adrift, givin' it apush off with one o' the oars. The tide's goin' out, so I knew hecouldn't get ashore again. I'd hardly got the boat shoved off when heyelled an' the rest of 'em heard it. "

"What did they do?"

"Come rushin' for the boats. Most of 'em went over to the south'ard, " hepointed down the rookery, "where there was a boat I hadn't seen, butthese six tried to rush me. I just had time to shove the boat off, grabmy guns, an' face 'em. "

"It was a bully hold-up, " said Colin delightedly, "one against six. "

"Had to, " said the sailor, "or the six would have made mincemeat o' theone. Besides, I had to give the tide a chance to get that boat out o'the way. After I held 'em a few minutes I knew it was all right, becausethey had no boat, their own bein' adrift without oars. "

"Big lie, " said the Japanese leader placidly, "we shipwreck sailors, nothing to do with that ship at all. This man tell story about boat--wenot know anything of that boat. Our boat sunk on rocks, away overthere!"

He pointed to the other side of the island. 

"But you were killing seals!" protested the agent. 

"Yes, " said the Japanese, "we think islands have not any person on. Needfood, we kill. Of course. "

"Clever, " said the agent, turning to Hank. "This isn't as simple as itlooks. We have no direct evidence that these men belonged to thatschooner. "

"But we know they did!" said the whaler emphatically. 

"Of course, " agreed the agent. "But we can't prove it. Law demandsproof. If we only had that boat, with the schooner's name on, it wouldserve. "

Suddenly there came a hail from the crippled launch which was beingbrought in under oars. 

"Mr. Nagge there?"

"Yes, Svenson, " was the reply, "what is it?"

"They smashed our engine all to bits, " answered the engineer of theboat, "but we've just picked up another boat, empty. "

"That's the boat, " said the agent with satisfaction in his voice. "Nowwe've got them!"

A smile, a very faint smile, crossed the features of the Japaneseleader. 

"What's the name on the stern of the boat?" the agent called. 

There was a moment's pause, then came the answer in tones of deepdisgust:

"The name's been painted out!"

The agent looked round despairingly and caught Colin's look of sympathy. 

"The slippery Oriental again!" the boy said. 

"Not quite slippery enough this time, though, " said Hank in a voicewhich betrayed a discovery. 

"What do you mean?" asked the agent. 

"Uncle Sam's gettin' into the game, " he answered, pointing out to sea. 

"The revenue cutter?"

"Hm, hm, " grunted the whaler in assent, "I reckon I can see her lights. "

No one else could see anything in the fog and darkness, but a minute ortwo later there came a flash, followed by a dull "boom. "

Hank turned to the Japanese leader. 

"Pity to spoil that yarn o' yours, " he said, "but your ship can't runaway from quick-firin' guns without a wind. "

CHAPTER IV

CATCHING THE SEA-SERPENT

There was great excitement in the village the next day when the revenuecutter brought in the Japanese raiding schooner and her crew. The boatthat had successfully reached the ship had already begun to load herquota of sealskins, and the men had not thrown them overboard, believingthat they could get away. Consequently, with the evidence of the raidashore and with the seals in the boat belonging to the schooner fromwhich witnesses had seen the crew go on board, the case was complete. 

"What are you going to do with the prisoners?" asked Colin. "Are yougoing to put them on trial here?"

"Not here, " the agent replied. "The Federal Courts look after that. "

"But I thought you were a judge, " the boy protested. "Who administersjustice on the islands?"

"The chief agent, " was the reply. "He is a magistrate. All the nativesare employees of the Fisheries Bureau. He has a lot of authority overthem. Obviously! But any really grave case is tried at Valdez, becausethat's the nearest Federal court from here. Sealing questions, too, areso confused with international issues that we don't undertake to decidethem. "

"And what will happen to the schooner?"

"A prize crew will be put aboard. Take her to Unalaska. The revenuecutter will pick them up afterwards. Probably start for Valdez withoutdelay. Captain Murchison said this morning that he wanted to go along. "

"I wonder if I'll have to go?" said Colin. "I'm sure I don't want to, atleast, not yet. There's ever so much more that I want to find out aboutseals, and I've hardly started. If I'm ever lucky enough to get into theBureau of Fisheries, I hope I shall have a chance to get something to doon this fur seal service. "

"Fur seal's very important. But only a small part of the Bureau ofFisheries, " the agent said, and outlined to Colin the general workingsof the Bureau, in which he showed the practical value of the work. 

"I know. I want to join the Bureau, " the boy persisted, "not onlybecause I think there's more fun in it than in anything else, butbecause I like everything about it. "

"What do your folks say about the plan?" the Fisheries agent queried. 

"They know I want it, " the lad replied, "but I never felt that I knewenough about the Bureau to say that I didn't care to do anything else. Father's always wanted me to take up lumbering or forestry or sawmillsor something to do with timber. He's quite a big lumberman, you know. But, some way, that never appealed to me. "

"Your father ought to know, " the other said. "Obviously! And if he ownstimber lands, I think it's up to you to be a help. Lots of interestingangles to the lumber business. And if the timber lands are going todescend to you, you'll have to look after them, anyway. "

"But they won't, " objected Colin; "that's just it. In about ten yearsthat timber will be all cut off. I'm pretty sure Father will let me jointhe Bureau, " the boy continued, "because he's wild about fishinghimself. Why, just now, he's down at Santa Catalina, angling for biggame. "

"Some difference between the Fisheries Bureau and angling for sport, "the agent warned him. "I've been in the business all my life. But I'venever even learned to cast a fly! It's a serious business, and down inWashington you'll find that the value of the work to the people of theUnited States is the chief aim of the Bureau. "

"It may be serious, but I should think that there is always somethingnew. And, anyway, " Colin said enthusiastically, "fishes are ever so muchmore interesting than animals. There are such heaps of different kinds, too!"

"The interest in work depends on how you look at it, " soberly respondedthe agent. "Obviously! But don't think the Bureau is experimenting withevery kind of fish in the ocean. There are only a few food fishes orforms with commercial value that are exploited at all. "

"But you were describing to me, only yesterday, the way they handlemillions of baby fishes annually. I've just got to get into the Bureau. "

"Go ahead, then. I don't doubt we'll be glad to have you. I've done mybest to show you what you'll have to face, " the official declared, "andif you're still eager for it, why, go in and win. There's always a placesomewhere for the chap who is really anxious to work. "

At supper that day, the decision was announced that the revenue cutterwould start for Valdez next morning, and Colin had to scramble around ina hurry to take a last look at the seals, to get a small crate made forthe blue fox pup, which he was going to send home for his youngerbrother to look after, and to put into a small trunk he had got from oneof the villagers the few things he had saved from the wreck and had beenable to buy in the village. 

The trip down to the Aleutian Islands and through its straits was adelight to Colin, and he became quite excited when he learned that thesecond lieutenant had for years been attached to a revenue cutter whichhad a wharf at the Fisheries Bureau station at Woods Hole, Mass. Thisofficer, who had a brother in the Bureau, was only too glad to talk tothe boy about the service, and Colin monopolized his spare time on thejourney. And when, one day, his friend depicted the immensity of thegreat salmon drives of the Alaskan rivers, the lad grew so excited thatthe lieutenant laughingly told him he expected some fine morning to findthat he had jumped overboard and had started swimming for the UgashikRiver or some other of the famous salmon streams of Alaska. 

[Illustration: NATIVE SALMON TRAP ON AN ALASKAN RIVER. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

[Illustration: MODERN SALMON TRAP ON AN ALASKAN RIVER. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

Shortly before they arrived at Valdez, the lieutenant of the cuttercalled the boy aside. 

"Colin, " he said, "didn't you tell me the other day that you were goingdown to Santa Catalina?"

"Yes, sir, " the boy answered. "Father's down there now, and I want toask him if he won't let me go and join the Bureau of Fisheries. "

"Well, " the officer replied, "before you do that, I think you ought toget some idea about the sort of work there is to do. It happens that oneof my brother's friends is on the Columbia River just now, making somekind of experiment on salmon. He has a cottage not far from one of thestate hatcheries, and if you like, I'll give you a letter to him. If youare really determined to enter the Bureau, you might stop on your way toSanta Catalina and see the work from another point of view. "

"I'd like to ever so much, " said Colin, "but I couldn't very well gouninvited. "

"He'll be only too pleased to see you, " was the reply; "he's a Westernerlike myself, and will enjoy putting you up for a day or two. "

"It's right in my way, too, " remarked Colin, yielding to his desire togo. 

"Quite a few of the steamers for 'Frisco stop at Astoria, at the mouthof the Columbia River, " the lieutenant suggested, "and the professor'scottage is not more than half an hour from there, near the statefish-hatching station at Chinook, Wash. "

"Just across the river, then?"

"Exactly. The way I look at it, you're not at all likely to haveanything to do with fur seal if you go into the Bureau, certainly notfor a good many years. So you can't judge the Fisheries' scope fromthat, and you ought to see the work that will probably fall to yourlot. "

"Very well, sir, " said the boy, "I'll go gladly, and thank you ever somuch. "

"I'll drop a note to Professor Todd, then, " the lieutenant said, noddingas he turned away, "and as we may be delayed a few days in Valdez, theletter will reach him before you will. "

On their arrival at the Alaskan town, Colin learned that some time wouldelapse before the trial of the Japanese prisoners, as the court wouldnot be in session until later in the summer, and he was told that whenhis deposition had been taken, there would be no need to keep him as awitness. Accordingly, after the boy had related the story of thediscovery and of his entire connection with the affair, he was told thathe might leave. 

As the revenue officer had expected, within a week a steamer left Valdezfor San Francisco, calling at Astoria on the way, and Colin took passageaboard. Aside from meeting on board an old shell collector, who taughthim a great deal about the principal valuable sea shells of the world, the voyage was without incident, and he arrived in Astoria in time toproceed the same afternoon to the cottage of the professor, where he wasto stay that night, having found a letter of welcome awaiting him inAstoria. 

Reaching the house he presented his letter of introduction, and wascordially greeted. Finding that the boy was really interested, his hosttook him to a tiny laboratory of his own, where he was experimenting onthe various diseases of the salmon and the trout. 

This gave Colin an entirely new outlook on the Fisheries' activities. 

"I never thought of fishes being sick before!" he exclaimed. "Are therefish-doctors in the Bureau?"

"There's a large division of the service given to that very work, " theprofessor replied, "only there are so many millions of fish that we donot try to cure the individual, but only endeavor to prevent thedisease. You know what the work of a veterinary is?"

"Of course, " the boy responded. 

"And you know that the United States Government has an inspector atevery place where cattle and sheep and pigs are slaughtered to see thatno diseased animals are sold?"

"Yes, " the boy answered, "I have heard of that, too. "

"Since there is almost as much fish eaten in this country as there ismeat, " the professor continued, "Uncle Sam sees to it that no diseasedfish are sold for food. "

"I don't quite see how, " the boy responded; "there can't be an inspectorat every place where they catch fish. "

"Certainly not, but as long as there is no disease among fish, there canbe no diseased fish. We try to prevent the diseases. Now here, forexample, " he continued, "are a lot of fish that have a kind of maligngrowth. It comes very frequently among the trout and salmon that areartificially raised, and sometimes we find it among fish that have beenreared in a state of nature, and I have been working for some time onthis and I hope this year--or at all events by next season--to be ableto show the cause of the disease. That is really my problem, Colin, butthe details of it are too complicated to explain easily. But you havecome at a particularly good time, " he continued, "because I have beenwanting to do an experiment which I thought might interest you, and Iwaited until you came. If you like, we'll go out to-morrow. "

"I should, ever so much, " Colin exclaimed. "What's the experiment?"

"When the salmon come in from the sea, " the professor began, "there is agreat deal of hesitation among them sometimes before they go up theriver to spawn, and we want to find out whether they go back to the seaagain, whether they swim directly up the stream, or whether they remainin the brackish water at the mouth of the river. "

"If you don't mind my saying so, what is the use of knowing?" askedColin. "I mean, what does it matter as long as the salmon spawns?"

"The salmon is one of the most important food fishes of the country, "the professor said rebukingly, "and it is as important for us to knowall about its habits as it is to know about the way a grain of wheatgrows. "

"I hadn't thought of that, " Colin said, a little shamefacedly. "Isuppose everything really is important, no matter how small. "

The professor smiled at him. 

"If you have much to do with studying fish, " he said, "or, indeed, withany kind of science, you will find out it is always the little thingsthat tell the story. Take the grain of wheat again. If one kind of wheatripens two days earlier on an average than another kind, you might thinkthat so small a difference wouldn't be of great importance, but thosetwo days might--and often do--make the difference between a good cropand one which is frost-bitten and spoiled. "

"That's a lot easier to see, " agreed the boy. "But, sir, " he objected, "you can pick out one little bit of a field and work on that, and itwill 'stay put. ' Fishes wander all over the place. "

"We want them to do so, my boy, " was the reply. 

"How can you work on separate fish? One looks so like another!"

"And for that very reason we're going to tag them. "

"Tag them?"

"With a little aluminum button fastened to their tail, just as badyoungsters fasten a tin can to a dog's tail. Every tag has a number, andwe use aluminum because it corrodes rapidly in salt water. "

"Then I should think, " said Colin, "that was the very reason why youshouldn't use it. "

"Why not?" asked the professor mildly. "We know that the salmon are notgoing to stay in the salt water, because they are going up the river tospawn. If, therefore, we catch a fish in the nets higher up stream, withthe tag bright and shining, we know that it hasn't been in salt water atall; if dull and just a little worn away, that the fish with that taghas been staying in the brackish water near the mouth of the river; butif it is deeply corroded, that the fish returned to sea for a time. Asyou see, a good deal of information is gathered that way. But in themorning you will have a chance to see how it is done, and then theresults--when they are published--will seem more interesting. "

"Have you been associated with the Bureau of Fisheries, Professor Podd?"Colin asked. 

"Not directly, " the other replied. "I should have enjoyed it, and itseems to me a work of the first importance, but every man is apt tothink that about his own work, or work that is like his own. But I cantell you what decided me, nearly twenty years ago, to give all my sparetime to the fishery question. "

"What was that?" asked Colin. 

"It was a phrase in a lecture that Dr. Baird, the founder of fishculture in America, was giving about the need of the work. He pointedout that there was more actual life in a cubic foot of water than in acubic foot of land, and closed by saying, 'The work of conserving theFisheries of the United States will not be finished until every acre ofwater is farmed as carefully as every acre or land. '"

"I never quite thought of it as farming, " said the boy. 

"Nor had I, before that time, " the professor said. "But ever since thenI have seen that we of the present time are the great pioneers, thediscoverers, the explorers of this new world. Instead of blazing ourtrail through a wilderness of trees we dredge our way through awilderness of waters; instead of a stockade around a blockhouse toprotect us against wild beasts and wilder Indian foes, we have but athin plank between us and destruction; instead of a few wolves andmountain-lions to prey upon the few head of stock we might raise, wehave thousands of millions of fierce, finny pirates with which to dobattle, and we work against odds the old pioneers could not even haveestimated!"

"That's great!" cried Colin, his eyes shining. 

"The surface of the sea, " the professor continued, warming to hissubject, "reveals no more of its mystery than the smoke cloud above thecity tells the story of the wild race of life in its thronging streets, or than the waving tips of a forest of mighty trees reveal the myriadforms below. Each current of the ocean is an empire of its own with itstribes endlessly at war; the serried hosts of voracious fish prey onthose about them, fishes of medium depth do perpetual war upon thesurface fish, and some of these are forced into the air to fly likebirds away from the Nemesis below. "

"And much is still unknown, isn't it?"

"We are discovering a new world!" was the reply. "No one for a momentcan deny the greatness of the finding of America, and Columbus and theother early navigators are sure of immortal fame, but even so, what wasthe New World they found to the illimitable areas of unknown life, inthe bottom of the sea, that have been made known to man. Think of thewonder that has been revealed by the _Challenger_ and other ships thathave explored the ocean beds!"

"There is still a great deal unknown, isn't there?"

"Still an unknown universe! Lurking in the utter darkness of thescarce-fathomed deeps of the ocean, what Kraken may not lie, coil oncoil; what strange black, slimy, large-eyed forms do their stealthyhunting in perpetual night by the light of phosphorescent lamps theybear upon their bodies? Many of these there are, every year teaches ofnew species. The land--oh! the land is all well known, even the Arcticand Antarctic regions no longer hide their secrets, but the ocean isinscrutable. Smiling or in anger, she baffles us and her inmost shrinesare still inviolate. "

The professor checked himself suddenly, as though conscious of havingbeen carried away by enthusiasm. 

"We'll try and get at some of the secrets to-morrow, " he said, "but itwill mean early rising, as the trap is to be hauled at slack water. "

Acting on the hint, Colin bade his host good-night, but his sleep wasfitful and restless. The sudden passionate speech of the grave scholarhad been a revelation to the boy, and whereas he had felt a desire forthe Fisheries Bureau before, he knew now that it had been largely withthe sense of novelty and adventure. But the professor's words had givenhim a new light, and he saw what an ideal might be. He felt like aknight of the olden time, who, watching his armor the vigil before theconferring of knighthood, had been granted a vision of all his servicemight mean. He knew that night that the question he was to ask hisfather could have but the one answer, that the great decision of hislife was made, his work was cut out to do. 

Shortly after daybreak the next morning, Colin was called and he dressedhurriedly. After a hearty breakfast in which steel-head trout figuredlargely, he went down to the pier on the water and was not sorry to havethe chance of showing his host that he was a good canoeist. 

"How large is the work of the Bureau now, Professor?" asked Colin, asthe light craft shot down the magnificent stretches of the ColumbiaRiver. 

"Over three and a half billion eggs and small fish were distributed lastyear, if I remember rightly, " was the reply. "Of course, a largeproportion of these fish did not reach maturity, but perhaps half abillion did so, and half a billion fish is an immense contribution tothe food supply of the world. "

"But aren't there always lots of fish in the sea?" asked Colin. "Whenyou come to compare land with water it always looks as though there mustbe so many that the number we catch wouldn't make any sort of impressionon them. "

"Think a bit, " said the professor. "You've just come down from thePribilof Islands. How did you find matters up there? Had the catching ofseals been harmful, or were there so many seals still in the sea that itdidn't matter what line of hunting went on?"

"Of course, pelagic sealing had nearly killed off the entire species, "said Colin, "but, somehow, fish seem different. Oh, yes, I know why. Seals only have one pup at a time and fishes have thousands of eggs. "

"That's a very good reply, " the professor agreed, "but why was it thatpelagic sealing was so bad? Was it done all the year round?"

[Illustration: MILLIONS OF THESE HATCHED YEARLY. 

Brook Trout just hatching, showing fry with egg-sacs still attached. 

_Courtesy of the National Geographic Magazine. _]

"No, " said Colin, "principally when the females were coming to thespawning ground. "

"And the Pribilof Islands are only a small place. Especially whencompared to the range of oceans the seal cover during the rest of theyear?"

"Very small. "

"Then, " said the other, "it is easy to see that the respective size ofland and water has very little to do with the general fishery question. But if a seal or a fish must come to the land or to narrow rivers tospawn, it follows that man possesses the power to determine whetherspawning shall continue or not, doesn't it?"

"Yes, " agreed Colin, "I suppose it does. "

"And if you protect the seals, the herd will increase. "

"It ought to. "

"Very good. That is just the work we are doing here. The salmon comeinto fresh water to spawn--just like shad and a number of other speciesof fish--and when you kill a salmon just about to ascend the river, youdestroy at the same time the thousands of eggs she bears. "

"But I thought salmon were always caught running up a stream?" saidColin in surprise. 

"They are, " was the quick response; "by far the larger number are caughtthat way, and as long as a certain proportion go up the stream there'sno great harm done. But if every one of the salmon is caught, as happenswhen nets are put all the way across a stream, there will be none tospawn, and in a few years there will be no fish in that river. "

"Do the fish always return, when grown up, to the river in which theyspawned?"

"That is disputed. But the large proportion of such fish do not travelvery far from the mouth of the river in which they were born and thenatural impulse for fresh water at spawning-time leads them naturally tothe nearest stream. So, it is imperative that some fish be allowed to goup-stream, or in other words, that salmon-catchers allow a certainproportion to escape their wheels and nets. "

"They ought to be willing enough to do that, I should think, " saidColin; "it's for their own good in the long run. "

"A lot of them want quick profits now, without any regard for thefuture, " his host said scornfully. "Of course, there are laws forfishery regulation in many of the States, but inspectors have theirhands full in preventing violations. In Alaska, which is a territorystill, that supervision is done by the government through the Bureau ofFisheries. "

"It must be a little aggravating to the salmon men, just the same, " saidColin thoughtfully, "when they are trying to keep their canningfactories going full blast, to have to allow half the catch to go on upthe stream. But, " he continued, "why don't they catch the salmon comingdown the stream again? I should think that would settle the wholequestion. "

"It would, " said the professor, "if they came down! But they don't. Every single salmon, male and female, that goes up the river in thespawning season dies up there. None of them ever comes down alive. "

"I don't think they did that way in Newfoundland!" ejaculated Colin insurprise. "When I was staying with my uncle there I saw lots of salmon, and it seemed to me that they went down the river again. "

"They did, " was the reply. "The Atlantic or true salmon does not dieafter spawning, but not a single fish of any one of the five differentkinds of Pacific salmon ever spawns twice. Every yard of the shores ofthe upper reaches of Pacific coast rivers is covered almost solidly withdead salmon from September to December!"

"How awful!"

"It makes some places uninhabitable, " the professor replied. "Where amarket is near enough, the dead fish are collected and sold forfertilizer. "

"Is it the fresh water that kills them?"

"No, " was the reply; "that is one of the most curious features of thelife-history of the Pacific salmon. As soon as the fish are nearly readyfor spawning, all their digestive parts shrivel up, so that they can'teat. In the male salmon, too, the end of the upper lip turns into a sortof hook so that the fish can't even open his mouth wide enough to eatanything. Then in the fresh water their scales turn slimy and, as theyoften get injured trying to leap falls and rapids, all sorts of skindiseases attack them. A salmon in the upper reaches of the Columbiaheadwaters is a pitiful wreck of the magnificent fish that entered it tospawn. "

"Do they go far?"

"As much as a thousand miles, " was the reply. "The quinnat and blueback--or the spring and the sockeye, as they are generally known, takethe long journeys, but the silver or coho, and the humpback and dogsalmon keep to the small streams near the sea. The young fry cannot livein salt water and the instinct of the salmon is to swim up-stream as faras possible, no matter what obstacle is in the way. When they have goneto the very limit, the salmon make pits and holes in the gravel and sandat the bottom of the stream for nests, and drop the eggs in these. Themale salmon immediately afterwards floats over the nests and does hisshare in making sure that the eggs will hatch out. "

"How big are the salmon?" asked the boy. 

"You'll have a chance to see, " the professor answered, as he swung thecanoe in to the wharf, at the state hatchery station, "because we'regoing to measure the ones we tag this morning. "

The foreman and one of the men of the station were waiting for them in agood-sized motor boat, towing behind which was a curious-looking affaircomposed of two small barrels fastened together by long slats. 

"Don't you know what that is?" queried the professor, noting Colin'spuzzled look. 

"No, sir. "

"That's a live car. The barrels at each end have enough water in them tosink them to a certain depth. Then the slats, as you see, are nailedtwo-thirds of the way around the barrels, leaving just enough space forthe water to flow in and out freely. They put the fish in that to towthem home alive. The slats are better than netting because sometimes thefishes catch their scales in the meshes and get hurt. "

The run to the fish-trap was made in a few minutes, and the boat wentinside to the 'pound, ' the net was partly hauled up, and the professortook out his punch and the buttons. Colin had put on a pair of rubberboots and oilskin trousers, as had all the rest of the party, and he wasready for anything that came along. 

"Do you want my slicker?" the professor asked him. "You're apt to getsplashed. "

"I don't mind a bit, thanks, " answered the boy, rolling up his sleeves;"a little shower-bath will feel good on a hot day like this!"

"All right, then, " the leader of the party declared, "we'll give you achance to make yourself useful. Here you are!"

Colin took the large flat-bottomed net and awaited further instructions. 

"Catch one of the salmon, " he was told; "never mind the rest of thefish. And, " he was warned, "don't bring the net clear out of the water. "

"Very well, sir, " the boy replied, then his curiosity getting the betterof him, he asked, "Why not?"

"Because if you do, the salmon will struggle against the meshes of thenet, bruise himself, and probably scrape off some scales. I told you howeasy it is for a fish to get diseased if he loses any of his scales. Ifyou keep the net about four inches below the water, the fish has theresistance of the water to fight against, and it will tire him outquickly without doing any harm. "

"All right, " Colin answered, and commenced scooping for the fish. In aminute or two he had a large twenty-pounder in the net and he raised ituntil the bottom was a little below the water, as he had been told. 

"You're right about getting wet!" cried Colin, laughing, as the salmonbegan to whirl and plunge and dance in the net, sending a shower ofwater all over him and nearly blinding him by the force with which thedrops of water struck as they were splashed upwards by the powerfulstrokes of the fish's tail. 

The instant the salmon stopped struggling, the hatchery boatman seizedit by the tail with a strong grip, swung it clear out of the net andover his left arm, laying it immediately on the measuring platform. Thisconsisted merely of a wide board with an upright at one end, a rulegiving both metrical and standard measures being nailed to the side ofthe board. Instantly the measurer called out the length and theprofessor noted it down, the hatchery foreman--famous for his expertnessin judging the weight of a fish--calling out the weight to be recorded. Laying down his pencil, the professor then, with a small punch, made atiny hole in the tail-fin of the salmon, the fish having been thrownover the captor's left arm again, slipped an aluminum button through thehole, and riveted it securely. The entire process took less than aminute and a half, and by the time the salmon had been released andtossed into the water again, Colin was ready with another fish. 

"I don't see why the fish don't die as soon as they come out of thewater!" exclaimed Colin. 

"For nearly a minute, some fish breathe better out of the water than init, " the professor answered, "but after that the gills stick togetherand the fish strangles. Two or even three minutes will not injuresalmon, and some fish will recover if they are out of water for hours. Indeed, there are some fish that live out of water most of the time. "

"Live out of water?" the boy said in surprise. 

"Certainly. Some kinds of fish, at least, can't stay in the water verylong, but remain perched up on the rocks. "

"Perching like birds?" Colin said incredulously. 

"I know that sounds a little improbable, but it's true, just the same, "the professor said, smiling. "This is a Fisheries story, not a 'fishstory. ' There's a difference. They come from Samoa and belong to theskippy family. Most of them live on the rocks, and they jump from rockto rock instead of swimming. Some of them even are vegetarians--which israre among fish--and their gills are smaller and stouter. Plenty of themare only in the water for a little while at high tide, living in themoist seaweed until the tide rises again. "

Colin was silenced, and he went on vigorously dipping up salmon. 

"How many fish are you going to tag?" the boy asked, when a couple ofhours had passed by. 

"Sixty, " the professor answered, "and we must be nearly through, for Ihave only a few buttons left. "

Secretly the boy was much relieved, for his back was tired from stoopingand netting heavy fish for two hours, but he would have worked to utterexhaustion rather than complain. However, within another quarter of anhour, the last fish was dropped over the side and the party was on itsreturn journey. 

"Why don't you stop and see the hatchery?" suggested the professor, inreturn to a host of questions put to him by the boy concerning salmonculture. 

"I'd like to, ever so much, if I might, " was the answer, and Colinlooked up at the foreman. 

"Come right along, " was the latter's immediate response. "It isn't muchof a place to look at, but you can see whatever there is to see. "

The hatchery itself was simple and bare, as the foreman had suggested, consisting merely of a row of boxes arranged in such a way that waterflowed through them constantly, bringing a steady supply of fresh waterwithout carrying away the light eggs and tiny fry. Colin was thoroughlyinterested, and followed the foreman from place to place, eagerlywatching the processes of hatching the fish and asking unendingquestions. 

[Illustration: HATCHERIES IN MAINE FOR LANDLOCKED SALMON. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Here, " the man said, after he had answered a dozen or more queries. "I'll show you just how it's done and you'll learn more from watchingthan I could tell you in a week of talk. "

He led the way to a large pond not far from the hatchery, which wasconnected with a small stream, the water of which was almost entirelyfresh. 

"It's a little early yet for the autumn run, " the foreman said, "butmaybe there's some salmon ready for their eggs to be taken. We'll have alook, anyway. "

"Are there any chinook in there?" queried Colin, who was feeling alittle proud of the knowledge he had acquired that morning as to the wayof distinguishing the varieties of salmon. 

"Don't want chinook, " was the reply; "they have got to go away up theriver to spawn and wouldn't be in shape if we tried to use them here. Weonly raise humpback and dog here, the hatcheries for chinook and silversalmon are away up the river. "

"Run by the State or the Government?" queried the boy. 

"Both, " was the reply, "and quite a few are managed by commercial fishcompanies who are as anxious as any one to see that the annual salmonrun does not grow smaller. Their living depends upon it. "

At his request one of the men commenced scooping up some of the salmonin the pool to see if any of them were ripe, and meantime theforeman--who was still wearing his oilskins--picked up a tin pail, holding it between his knees. In a minute or two the man came in holdinga ripe female salmon. 

"Now watch, " the foreman said to Colin, "and you can see the wholeperformance. "

He seized the salmon by the tail, and all the eggs ran down toward thehead. Then, holding the fish head upward, he pressed it slightly, andthe eggs ran out from the vent rapidly, striking the bottom of the panwith considerable force. The foreman had hardly got the eggs when hisassistant came in with a male salmon, and the same plan was repeated, the milt falling upon the eggs. Both male and female salmon then werereturned to the pool. The eggs and milt were shaken violently from sideto side until thoroughly mixed, a little water being added to help themixture. Then he took the pail to the faucet. 

"But you're washing the milt off again!" cried Colin, as the foremanfilled the pail with water. 

"It's had plenty of time to work, " was the answer, and the eggs werepoured into a flat pan and washed several times. 

"Now we'll put just a little water in the pan, " the foreman continued, "and leave it here to swell. "

"Why should it swell?" asked Colin. 

"The egg isn't really full when it comes from the mother fish, " theforeman answered, "the yolk rattles around inside the shell, but afterit has been mixed with the milt, it begins to suck up water, and inabout half an hour it's full. "

"What happens next?" queried Colin. 

"That's about all. We put the eggs in frames so that the water has achance to circulate freely, and then we go over the frames once or twicea week to pick out any eggs that may happen to die or not to grow justright. "

"How long does it take before a fish comes out?" Colin askedinterestedly. "About a couple of weeks?"

"Weeks!" was the surprised answer; "we look for hatching to begin inabout five months, and during all that time every tray of eggs is pickedover once or twice a week. That keeps dead eggs from infecting liveones. "

"You must keep them a long time, then?"

"Nearly a year altogether. Those in that trough right behind you arejust hatching, they're from the first batch of spawn in the early springrun. Most of them are hatched out now, for you see only a few eggs inthe tray. "

Colin looked in and saw, as the foreman said, only half a dozen eggsleft in the tray, while in the shallow water of the trough below werehundreds of tiny fish, like transparent tadpoles still fastened to theyolk of the egg. Some, which were just hatched, were less thanthree-quarters of an inch long, and scarcely able to move about in thewater because of the great weight of the yolk about the center of theirbodies. A few had consumed a large part of the sac. 

"It'll take them about six weeks to get rid of the yolk, " the foremansaid, anticipating the boy's question, "and if they were in a naturalstream they would be able to look after themselves. We feed them tinygrubs and worms and small pieces of liver. From that time on it ismerely a question of giving them the proper food and keeping the troughsclean. When they are five or six months old we set them free. "

"Do you do any work except salmon hatching here?" Colin asked, as, aftera morning spent in the station, they walked toward the pier. 

"No, " the foreman answered, "we distribute a million and a half youngfish every year and that keeps us busy enough. "

"Well, " said Colin, shaking hands, "I'm ever so much obliged, and Ireally feel now as if I knew something about a hatchery. And I've had ashare in one experiment, anyway!"

On his return to the cottage he found the professor getting outfishing-tackle. 

"Going out again?" queried Colin. 

"I thought you might like to try a little sport-fishing, " was theanswer; "you said you were going down to Santa Catalina, and you mightas well get your hand in. You can stay over another day, can't you?"

"I suppose I could, " Colin answered, "and I should like to catch areally big salmon with a rod and line, not only for the fun of it, butbecause I happen to know that Father's never caught one, and I'd like tobeat him out on something. It's pretty difficult, though, to get aheadof Dad!"

The professor shook his head with mock gravity. 

"That's not a particularly good motive, " he said, "and I don't know thatI ought to increase any boy's stock of conceit. It is usually quite bigenough. But maybe you won't catch anything, and I'll chance it. "

"Oh, but I will catch one, " Colin declared confidently; "I'm going totry and get one of the hundred-pounders that I've read about. "

"You'll have a long sail, then, " his host replied, "because fish of thatsize don't come far south of Alaskan waters. Twenty-five or thirtypounds is as big as you can look for, and even those will give you allthe sport you want. "

"Very well, " Colin responded, a little abashed, "I'll be satisfied. "

"It's rather a pity, " the professor said, when, after lunch, they hadstarted for the fishing-grounds in a small catboat, "that you haven'thad a chance to go up to The Dalles to see the salmon leaping up thefalls and the rapids. I think it's one of the most wonderful sights inthe world. "

"I've seen the Atlantic salmon jump small falls, " Colin said, "but Idon't think I ever saw one larger than ten or twelve pounds. "

"I have seen hundreds of them fifty to eighty pounds in weight leapingat falls in the smaller Alaskan rivers. I remember seeing twenty orthirty in the air at a time while the water below the falls was boilingwith the thousands of fish threshing the water before their leap. "

"How high can they jump?" asked Colin. 

"About sixteen foot sheer stops even the best of them, " the professorsaid, "but there are not many direct falls like that. Nearly all rapidsand falls are in jumps of five or six feet, and salmon can take thateasily. Still, there is a fall nearly twenty feet high that some salmonmust have leaped, for a few have been found above it, and they musteither have leaped up or walked round--there's no other way. "

"How do you suppose they did it?"

"In a very high wind, probably, " the professor answered; "a gale blowingup the canyon might just give the extra foot or two at the end of a highleap. "

As soon as they were about four miles out, the sail was taken in and, following the professor's example, Colin dropped his line over thestern. The shining copper and nickel spoon sank slowly, and the boy paidout about a hundred feet of line. Taking up the oars and with the rodready to hand, Colin rowed slowly, parallel with the shore. Two or threetimes the boy had a sensation that the boat was being followed by somemysterious denizen of the sea, but though in the distance there seemed astrange ripple on the water, nothing definite appeared, and he forgot itfor the moment as the professor got the first strike. 

With the characteristic scream, the reel shrilled out, and the fish tooknearly a hundred feet of line, but the angler held the brake so hardthat the strain rapidly exhausted the fish, and when it turned towardthe boat, the professor's deft fingers reeled at such a speed that theline wound in almost as rapidly as the rush of the fish. As soon as thesalmon saw the boat it tried to break away, but its captor had caught aglimpse of the fish, and seeing that it was not too large for speedyaction, reeled in without loss of time, and gaffed him promptly. 

[Illustration: THIRTY-POUND ATLANTIC SALMON LEAPING FALLS AND RAPIDS INA NEWFOUNDLAND RIVER. 

_By permission of H. K. Burrison. _]

[Illustration: EIGHTY-POUND PACIFIC SALMON LEAPING WATERFALL ON ANALASKA RIVER. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Small chinook, " he said, as he tossed him into the boat. 

He had hardly finished speaking before Colin made a grab for his rod, and the catch was repeated in almost the same manner. This went on untilfive fish had been caught, the last one, which fell to the professor, putting up the most gamy fight of them all. But still it was too easyfor real sport. 

The ripple which Colin had been watching had come nearer, and in thecatching of the last fish, the boat had been brought quite close to it. 

Then, noiselessly, and like a strange vision, out from the undulatingripples rose slowly a creature more fantastic than the boy's wildestdreams. The head was green, with large unwinking, glittering eyes. Inslow contortions, the body, of a transparency that showed the lightthrough, writhed like a tremendous ribbon-snake, and a sharp row ofserrated fins surmounted all its length, from which, near the head, scarlet streamers floated like a mane. A moment thus it held its headerect, then sank below the surface. The boy sat with his eyes fixed uponthe spot where he had seen this weird appearance, unknown andghostly-seeming. 

"Colin, " said the professor, and his tone was so imperative that the boyturned sharply, "what is the matter? What are you watching?"

"I don't know, sir, " said the boy; "I don't know much about fish, and Iwas waiting until it came nearer. I was going to say----"

He stopped suddenly. 

"What?" asked the professor, a little impatiently. 

"You'd laugh at me, " the boy answered. 

"You saw----"

"I saw a big green head with large eyes and spines on its back put itshead out of the water, " Colin said doggedly, "and it had a bright redmane. I couldn't think of anything but--but, "--he hesitated and thengulped out, --"a sea-serpent. "

He half feared to look at his companion, feeling that a pitying smilewould greet his news, but after a few seconds' silence, he glanced upand saw that his fellow-fisherman was looking grave and thoughtful. Atthat instant the boy felt a quick snap at his line and he struck, thesalmon whirling away instantly. It was a good fight, and the fish wasfull of grit, sending a curious thrumming sensation up the line that setevery nerve aquiver. At last he got the fish stopped, and had juststarted to reel the big salmon in, when the apparition thrust its headout of the water not twenty feet from the boat. It distracted Colin'sattention, and a few seconds later his line snapped. 

"The salmon's got away, " said Colin disgustedly. 

"What does that matter?" said the professor. "We've something else todo. "

"What?"

"Catch your sea-serpent, " was the reply, as the older man pointed to thegreen and scarlet gleam in the water. 

"It must be thirty feet long, " Colin said, then realizing that his tonesuggested that he was afraid, he added boldly, "but I'm game. What isit, anyway?"

"You're not so far off in calling it a sea-serpent, " his companion said;"at least, it's more like the fabulous monster than any other fish thatwe know. "

"But how are you going to catch it?" the boy asked. 

"By hand, " the professor replied, slipping off his outer clothes. 

"You mean you're going in after it?" queried the boy with amazement. 

"Certainly, " the other answered; "it's harmless enough. "

"It doesn't look it, " said Colin, but he was not to be outdone, andprepared to follow his host into the water. 

They ran the boat close to the creature, which swam but feebly despiteits immense length, and the professor plunged over the side, holding theloop of a rope. A few strokes took him to the long, ribbon-like form, which was not thicker than a man's body, and he threw his arms about it, back of the head. The fish struggled weakly, but the professor did notlet go, and in a few seconds Colin had brought up the boat. He then tookthe rope, which had been passed around the soft and flabby body. Then, jumping overboard also, the boy helped the professor lift the fish frombelow, for the flesh was so soft that a rope would cut right through it. With great exertion, for the creature was heavy, they got it on board, half swamping the boat in doing so. Despite its size, the strangevisitor from the deep seemed scarcely able to struggle and laymotionless in the boat. 

"What is it?" asked Colin, as he gazed on the snake-body and thestrange head which, with its brilliant crimson mane, was reminiscent ofsome fiery horse of ancient legend. 

"What can it be?" he repeated wonderingly. 

"An oarfish, " the professor answered. 

"That isn't what I think it is, " Colin replied. "I'm sure it's somethingquite different. "

"What?" asked the professor, smiling. 

"I believe something has killed the sea-serpent at the bottom of the seaand this is its ghost!"

CHAPTER V

CLUTCHED BY A HORROR OF THE DEEP

In order that the valuable specimen of the oarfish might be properlypreserved, for the creature was so soft-fleshed that it would quicklyshrivel in the hot sun, the professor accompanied Colin to Astoria thefollowing morning, and shortly after they landed, the city was buzzingwith news of the wonderful find. Before the boy left for Santa Catalinathat evening he found his name in all the afternoon papers as being oneof the men who had "caught the sea-serpent. " As this was the firstspecimen in perfect preservation that had reached any city of the UnitedStates and, indeed, only the sixth ever reported from American shores, agreat deal of interest was excited, and Colin was compelled to give aninterview to a reporter, telling the story of the capture. He was sorrythat his brother--to whom he had sent the blue fox--was not with therest of the family in Santa Catalina, so that he could tell him allabout it, but the younger lad was at a boys' camp. 

Making a stay of only a couple of hours in Los Angeles, the boy wentfrom there straight to San Pedro, where he took the steamer for Avalon, the only large town on Santa Catalina, and the most famous place in theentire world for taking big game fish with rod and reel. 

The passage was only of two hours' duration, and the weather ideal. Thewater of the channel was like a mirror, but the daily breeze sprang upat eleven o'clock, its accustomed hour. 

Although no more attentive to scenery than most boys of his age, Colinfairly cried aloud with admiration as the steamer rounded the point andturned into Avalon Bay. Almost a perfect semicircle, the beach ofglistening white sand enclosed a basin of turquoise sea in which werereflected the dark, rich tones of the cliffs, all glowing like an opalbeneath the sun, while above rose the hills covered with the wild lilacand greasewood of California. Even the tame sea-lions which frequent theharbor and follow incoming boats, and which frequently are to be seenhauled up on small fishing-craft, seemed to fit wonderfully into thescene. A passenger who heard the boy's exclamation of delight, turned tohim. 

"That's the way I feel about it, " he said. "I think it more beautifulevery time I come. "

"It makes me think of an abalone shell, " Colin remarked thoughtfully, "before the outside is polished; the bay looks just like the glow of theshell inside and the sand-hills resemble the rough outside of the shell, with barnacles growing on it. "

"Perhaps that is why it is called Avalon?" his companion said; "abalone, Avalon--it's not improbable, though I never heard such a derivationbefore; the Vale of Avalon in Pennsylvania is supposed to have been theprime factor in giving the name. But it's a wonderful place in itself, and besides, there's not one of those hundreds of boats moored in theharbor but could tell some thrilling tale of big game at sea. Look, " hecontinued, as the steamer drew near to the entrance of the harbor, "there's a chap who's hooked to something big. By the way he's playingthe fish it's probably a leaping tuna. Wait a minute and I'll tell you. "

He unslung his fieldglasses and focused them on the boat. 

"Yes, he's got a tuna, " he continued, "for the flag is flying. "

The news spread rapidly over the boat, for almost every one on boardwas going to Avalon for the angling, and the capture of a large tuna isan event. The glasses were handed from person to person, and presentlywere passed to Colin, who noted with eager interest the littlemotor-boat and the big flag. Then he turned the glass on the people inthe boat, and flashed out excitedly:

[Illustration: SEA-SERPENT STRANDED ON CALIFORNIA COAST. 

Showing length of small specimen and its semi-transparency. 

_By permission of Prof. David Starr Jordan. _]

[Illustration: THE SEA-SERPENT CAUGHT BY COLIN. 

Oarfish, thirty feet in length, with flaming red upstanding mane, and aknife-like body less than three inches in thickness. 

_By permission of Prof. David Starr Jordan. _]

"Why, that's Father!"

"He's in luck, then, " said the boy's companion. "I hope I get a chancethis season. Still, it's a good omen, seeing a catch like this whencoming into the harbor. "

"Sure thing, " said Colin confidently, "there are probably lots of themthis season. Do you suppose Father will land him?"

"About nine out of ten get away, " was the reply, "and it takes a goodfisherman to bring them to the gaff. Has your father been here before?Perhaps I may know him. "

"He comes nearly every year, " Colin answered. "Dare is his name, MajorDare. "

"Oh, you're Dare's son, are you?" was the response, as the older manheld out his hand. "I've known your father for years. He holds a bluetuna button, doesn't he?"

"I've never heard of it, if he does, " Colin answered. "What's that for?"

"It is the greatest fishing honor that is to be got anywhere. Only aboutseventy members of the club have gained it; two, I believe, being women, and the second largest tuna ever caught on rod and line was brought togaff by a woman angler. It is given for catching a tuna weighing overone hundred pounds, on a light rod. "

"That must be fearfully hard to do, " the boy said; "even a twenty-poundfish is a strain to a light rod. "

"It is difficult, " was the reply, "but the club rules require the use ofa rod the tip of which shall be not less than five feet long, weighingnot over sixteen ounces in weight, and a line not over a 'twenty-four'or smaller than the usual trout-line. With this equipment, to conquer atuna weighing over one hundred pounds is an angling achievement of thehighest rank, and for this the blue tuna button is given by the club. "

"And Father never told me!" Colin said reproachfully, watching thecontest with the fish as well as he could considering his distance fromthe scene of action. 

"Major Dare is a thorough sportsman, " the angler said, "and I supposehe thought it would look like boasting. What's happening there in theboat?"

"It looks as though they had started out to sea, " Colin answered, handing back the glass. 

"That's what's the matter!" the angler said. "By Jonah's whale, how sheis flying through the water!"

The two watched the boat until a turn of the cliff hid it from sight andthen, Colin, turning round, saw that the steamer was nearly at the pier, close enough for him to distinguish his mother and sister waiting thereand waving to attract his attention. He signaled enthusiastically inreply, and in a few minutes the steamer was alongside the wharf. 

The greeting was most exciting, for the boy was simply bursting withnews, and there had been a good deal of anxiety felt by his parents onhis behalf while he had been wandering in the Behring Sea. But theirtalk was broken in upon by an enthusiastic angler friend, who beggedMrs. Dare to come to the extreme end of the pier and watch the battlewith the big tuna. 

"Oh, Mother, " eagerly said the boy, "do you mind if I jump in a boat sothat I can go out and watch Father better? I'm sure he wouldn'tobject. "

"I think I would like to have you with me for a little while, Colin, "his mother said with a gentle smile, "after you have been away so long. But you are just the same, after all, eager to do everythingimmediately. I know you would be happier in going, so you can desert usif you like. "

"I don't mean that, Mother!" said the boy, feeling a twinge ofself-reproach. 

"No, I know. But you can tell us all the rest of your adventures whenyou get back. Lucy quite thinks that you have become a sort of 'RobinsonCrusoe. '"

Colin gave his little sister--of whom he was very fond--an unobservedhug, and then fairly sped down to the end of the pier and called aboatman to take him off. The boatman, who was a native of the place, andto whom everything connected with angling was an old story, laughed atthe boy's excitement. 

"Goin' to catch a tuna with your hands, sir?" he asked, seeing that theboy was not carrying any fishing-tackle. 

"No, " the boy answered, "but I just came in on the steamer and, as wepassed the point, saw Father's boat, and he seemed to have somethingbig on the line, so I want to go out and see the fun. "

"I heard Major Dare had a tuna this mornin', " the boatman said, castingoff and starting the little engine, "although there haven't many of 'emshowed up yet this season. Are you his son?"

"Yes, " Colin answered, "I'm the oldest. "

"I hope you're goin' to take after him, then, " the boatman saidapprovingly; "he's a fine angler. Looks like the tuna was comin' in, " hecontinued a moment later, as the boat with the flag flying came speedinginto the harbor. But the fish was darting from side to side in shortrushes, and it was evident that he was tiring. 

"Hullo, Father, " called the boy, as they came within hearing; "are yougoing to land him?"

"Is that you, Colin?" his father answered, without taking his eyes fromhis line, however. "Glad to have you back. Yes, " he continued, answeringthe boy's question, "I think I'll land him all right, but I'm prettywell tuckered out, I hooked him over three hours ago. "

Even recalling what the angler aboard the steamer had told him about thesportsmanlike rules that obtain at Avalon, it seemed absurd to Colinfor any one to try and catch so heavy a fish as the tuna seemed to be, with a rod and line that would be thought light for trout. 

"How big do the fish run here?" he asked the boatman. 

"'Bout a thousand pounds for the biggest game fishes, them's blacksea-bass, " the man answered; "leastways there was an eight-hundredpounder brought in, and lots of us have seen bigger ones. "

"But how can they catch fishes that size on a little bit of a spindlingrod and a line so fine you can hardly see it?"

"They don't, " was the reply, "not that big. The record black sea-bass, rod and reel, that has been caught here was four hundred and thirty-sixpounds in the season of 1905. The biggest tuna--they're the hardestfighters of any fish that swims--was two hundred and fifty-one pounds, caught in the season of 1900. I reckon Major Dare's fast to one that'sjust a good size for sport. "

"You're getting him, Father!" cried Colin, who had been watching thecontest with the fish, while listening to the boatman. 

"He's a fair size, " said the boatman critically, "but not one of thereally big ones, probably only about eighty or ninety pounds. "

The fight came to a close sooner than Colin expected. Dexterously, MajorDare reeled in his line during a moment's pause while the fish sulked, bringing him to the surface, and his boatman, quick as a flash of light, leaned over the side and slipped the long, slender hook, or gaff, intothe gills. But the end was not yet, for the tuna, with a powerful shakeof his head, nearly pulled the man overboard, shook out the gaff, andcommenced another panic-stricken rush. 

Colin's father, however, with thumb on the brake of the reel, gave himabsolutely no leeway, and the tuna was stopped within twenty feet, to bereeled in again. In the meantime, the gaffer had recovered his weapon, and as the big fish was brought to the side of the boat, he struckagain, this time succeeding in holding against the rush of the fish, though he was pulled elbow-deep into the water. Then, standing on thegunwale, the gaffer lifted the head of the tuna and tilted the boat overas far as was safe, sliding in the fish as he did so, accompanied by thecheers of Colin. As soon as the tuna was fairly secure, a big square ofcanvas was thrown over it to keep it from pounding and threshing in thebottom of the boat. 

"That was bully, Father!" said Colin, reaching out and shaking hands;"I'm glad I got here in time. "

His father looked at him with a twinkle in his eye. 

"How the deuce did you know I was out here?" he asked; "I thought thesteamer was only just about due. "

"I saw you as we came into the harbor, " Colin answered, "and I yelledloud enough to be heard 'way back in Los Angeles, but you didn't pay anyattention. "

"I thought I heard some one shouting a while back, " his father said, "but I was busy then and didn't have time to see who it was. "

"How big is the tuna, do you think?"

"Not big enough to be listed. About eighty-five, I should say. Whatabout it, Vincente?"

"Little more, " the boatman said; "I think perhaps ninety. "

"Nothing of a record, you see, Colin, " his father said, "just a goodmorning's sport. But I want to hear all about your doings. It seems tome that you're developing into quite a sensational person with yourfights with whales, and your sea-serpents, and all the rest of it. You've been writing good letters, too, my boy. I'm glad to see that youmake use of your eyes when you're in strange places. Tell me how you gotto Astoria, I didn't quite follow that salmon business. "

Colin started his yarn, but was only fairly launched into it when theyarrived at the wharf. There quite a crowd had gathered to welcome theincoming boat, for a big tuna catch always arouses interest in Avalon, and one of its features is the manner in which it is regarded as apersonal triumph for the angler. The promenaders gather to see the prizeweighed by the officials of the club, and it is rare that the customaryphotograph of fish, angler, and gaffer is omitted. As for Colin, he wasas proud over the fish he had seen caught as though he had held the rodhimself. 

"I had thought of going to the other side of the island for blacksea-bass to-morrow, Colin, " his father said, "and I purposed going withColonel Roader. I suppose you would like to come instead, and from whatI hear I think I'll put off that trip and try tuna again to-morrow. Youwant to come along?"

"I certainly should, Father, " the boy said gratefully, "if it wouldn'tbe spoiling your fun. "

"Not a bit, my boy, " was the kindly reply, "I've been looking forward toteaching you something about real fishing. Beside which, I have an ideathat you and I will have enough to talk about to keep us going for agood while. I'd like to take you up to the club-house now, but you'llprobably want to get back home, and we'll go along together. I can getthe boatman to look after notification at the club, and all that sort ofthing. "

"I'll wait, if you like. "

"No; Vincente knows all the ropes as well as I do. I judge from yourletters that you've enjoyed running around the way you have?"

"I wish you'd been along, Father, " the boy replied. "I've had a bullytime. I never expected anything like it when I got aboard the _Gull_. "

"I didn't either, " said Major Dare dryly; "if I had thought of thepossibility of the ship being rammed by a whale, you'd never have put afoot on her deck. But Captain Murchison said that whales were entirelyharmless, and so I let you go. "

"But, Father, you should have seen the way the old whale charged"--andthe lad plunged into the thick of the story. He was fairly out ofbreath when they reached the little cottage Major Dare had rented for acouple of months, but the boy was by no means out of material, andnothing short of an absolute command could keep him silent long enoughto eat his lunch. In the afternoon he unpacked his trunk, revealinglittle quaint articles he had picked up on his travels as gifts for thevarious members of the family. But the excitement of home-coming hadtired the boy, and quite early in the evening he found himself gettingsleepy, so that not long after his little sister had been snugly tuckedup, Colin announced his readiness to go to bed, on the ground that hewas to get up early the next day, as he was going tuna-fishing. 

The morning broke hot and hazy. The gray-green of the foliage on themountains had a purple tinge in the early morning light, and the seatook on a mother-of-pearl gleam behind its amethyst, as it reflected thechanging hues of the roseate sunrise. Over San Antonio and San Jacintothe sun rose gloriously, and in the freshness of the morning air thegiant flying-fish of the Pacific leaped and gleamed across themirror-smooth sea. 

Colin drew a long breath and expanded his lungs to the full, as thoughhe could breathe in the glow of color and the wonder of it all. 

"It always feels good to be alive at this hour of the morning!" he said. 

His father smiled appreciatively. 

"You're generally asleep, " he said. "But it's a good thing we did get upin time to-day, for unless my eyes are failing me, I think I can see inthe distance the tunas coming in. Say, Vincente, doesn't that look likethem over there?"

"Yes, sair, I t'ink dat's a school. I overheard a man on ze pier tellingof a beeg one he caught yesterday, " said the boatman. 

"That was Mr. Retaner, " was the answer, "one of the most famous anglersand authorities on fishing in America. That's why I came out thismorning; he said he thought the school would arrive soon, and whatRetaner doesn't know about fishing isn't worth knowing. He practicallycreated deep-sea angling in America, so that as an industry it is worthmillions of dollars annually to the country, and as a sport it has beenput in the first rank. "

Across the sea of glass with its rose reflections of the sunrise and thedeep underglow of richly-colored life beneath the transparent water, there came a quick shiver of ripples. Then half a mile away, butadvancing rapidly, appeared a strange turmoil, and in the sunlight, astretch of sea, acres in extent, was churned into white foam, lookinglike some fairy ice- or snow-field. Above this, at a height of about tenfeet, glittered a palpitating silver canopy, almost blinding in itssparkle and its sheen. 

"What is that?" asked Colin, wondering. 

"The tuna feeding and coming down the coast, " was the reply. 

As it drew nearer, Colin saw that the gleaming silver canopy was formedof thousands upon thousands of flying-fish, skimming through the air, dropping to the water every fifty yards or so, then, with a single twistof the screw-like tail, rising in the air for another soaring flight. 

Below, from the surface of the water broken to foam by the tumult, wouldleap those tremendous jumpers of the sea, the tuna, plunging through theliving cloud of flying-fish, and dropping to feed upon those which fellstunned under their impetuous charges. Occasionally, but very rarely, atuna would seize its fish in midair, and it was marvelous to see a fishnearly as large as a man spring like a bolt from a cross-bow out of thesea, often until it was ten feet above the water, then turn and plungeback into the ocean. 

"We'd better get out of here, I think, " Major Dare said to the boatman;"this is getting to be too much of a good thing. "

But, as he said the word, the school of flying-fish swerved right in thedirection of the boat, and in a minute the anglers were surrounded. Thesilent, skimming flight of the long-finned flying-fish, the boiling ofthe sea, lashed to fury by the pursuing tuna, and these livingprojectiles, hurled as a silvered bolt into the air, frightened Colinnot a little, although he was enjoying the experience thoroughly. 

"Look out you don't get struck by a flying-fish, " his father called tohim, bending low in his seat. Colin, who had not thought of thispossibility, followed suit rapidly, because the California flying-fish, unlike his Atlantic cousin, is a fish sometimes eighteen inches long, and he saw that if he were struck by one in the full speed of itsskimming flight, he might easily be knocked overboard. 

"Can't they see where they are going?" asked the boy. 

"They can see well enough, " his father answered, "but they have littleor no control over their flight. They can't change the direction inwhich they are going until they touch water again. That's how the tunacatches them, it swims under in a straight line and grabs the fish as itcomes down to get impetus for another flight. "

"But I thought flying-fish went ever so much higher than that!" said theboy. "I'm sure I've read of their landing on the decks of vessels!"

"They do, " was the answer; "they are attracted by the glare of thelights and fall on board. But that is generally on sailing vessels witha low freeboard. You don't often hear of flying-fish falling on the deckof a modern liner, and in the few cases in which they have, it has beenbecause they happened to come out of the water with a rush against aslant of wind which carried them up twenty or thirty feet. They go withan awful force, and I knew an angler once who was pitched head firstoverboard by a flying-fish, and was nearly drowned before his boatmancould get him aboard. He had been struck square between the shouldersand the blow had stunned him for the moment. "

"Suppose a chap got hit by a tuna?" queried the boy. 

"That's less likely, " the father answered, "because, you see, the tunacomes nearly straight up and down; he leaps, he doesn't skim. "

"Zere was one went t'rough a boat last season, Major Dare, " the boatmaninterjected. "It was late in ze year, after you had gone, I t'ink, sair. "

"Had it been hooked?" asked Colin. 

"No, sair, " the boatman answered; "tuna don't leap after zey are hooked. It was when zey were chasing a school, just like this. "

"You're thinking of the tarpon, Colin, " his father said; "it leapswildly after it has been hooked. The tuna, although a wonderful leaper, hardly ever rises from the water after it is fast to the line. But thetarpon is a vicious fighter. A couple of years ago a boat was founddrifting in the Galveston fishing-ground off Texas, with a dead anglerand a dead tarpon. The fish had been hooked and had tried to leap overthe boat, striking the angler and breaking his neck, then had falleninto the boat itself and had not been able to get out. "

"There's some excitement to fishing when it's like that!" Colincommented. 

"It's as good as big-game hunting any day, I think, " his fatheranswered; "and you don't have to travel for weeks out of civilizationto find it. Well, now, we'll give you a chance to show how much of theangler you've got in you. "

[Illustration: WHERE THE BIG TUNA WAS CAUGHT. 

The Bay and City of Avalon, Santa Catalina Islands, Cal. , the mostfamous sport-fishing centre in the world. 

_By permission of Mr. Chas. Fredk. Holder. _]

[Illustration: THE LARGEST SUNFISH ON RECORD. 

Estimated at over 2500 pounds, caught off Avalon, Santa Catalina. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

He handed Colin a rod and the boy looked at it. It was nearly seven feetlong, and the whole weight of it, except for the short butt which heldthe reel, was not more than sixteen ounces. The line was thin enough tobe threaded through a big darning-needle, it was known as '21 thread' asit had that number of strands, each strand being tested to a breakingstrain of two pounds. 

"Something will smash, sure, " said Colin, examining the outfitcarefully; "that looks as though it wouldn't hold a trout!"

"The rod is a split bamboo, " his father said, "and if the line breaks itwill be because you've allowed the fish to jerk. Anybody can catch fishwith a heavy line, but the fish hasn't got any chance, and there's nosport in it. It's on a par with shooting quail sitting instead offlushing them. Good angling consists in landing the heaviest fish withthe lightest tackle, not in securing the greatest amount of fish. Why, here in Avalon, there isn't a single boatman who would allow his boat tobe used by a 'fish-hog' who wanted to use heavy tackle. "

He had hardly finished speaking when there came a quiver on the line, and excitedly Colin jerked up his rod. 

"Don't strike with a jerk!" his father cried, but Colin was in fortune, and the line did not break. The reel screamed "z-z-z-ee" with the speedof its revolutions as the tuna sped to the bottom, and the older angler, leaning forward, wetted thoroughly the leather brake that the boy washolding down with his right thumb. 

"Easy on the brake, " came the warning; "don't put too much strain on theline or she'll snap!"

But Colin had the makings of an angler in him and he was ableinstinctively to judge the amount of pressure that was needed. The tuna, followed by a sheet of spume-blue water churned by the rapidly-towedline, plunged on and on, until two hundred and fifty feet of line hadbeen run out. Then, from the ice-cold bottom, rising as a meteor dartsacross the sky, the great fish clove the water to the surface. 

"What will I do when he leaps?" asked Colin breathlessly, reeling fordear life as soon as he felt the upward dash of the tuna. 

"He won't leap after he's hooked, " his father said; "they very seldomdo. I told you that before. It's the tarpon that plunges and leaps afterbeing hooked. "

The tuna reached the surface with a speed that seemed incredible to theboy, and though he had been reeling as rapidly as he could make hisfingers fly, even the big multiplier on the reel had failed to bring inall the slack. The tuna, panic-stricken by the strange line that hissedbehind him and which he could neither outrace nor shake off, tried tocharge the loops of twine that the reel had not yet been able to bringin. The sea fairly seemed to boil as the fin of the tuna cut through thewater at the surface. 

"Look out now, Colin, " the boy's father called. "He'll see the boat in aminute!"

He did. On the instant he saw the launch and the three men in it, and inthe very midst of his charge, the body bent and shot into the depthsagain. 

"Watch out for the jerk!" the older angler cried, and as the fishreached the end of the slack line there was a sudden tug which Colinfelt sure meant a lost fish. But his father's warning had come in time, and by releasing the thumb-brake entirely when the tug came, the reelwas free, and it rattled out another fifty feet, the boy graduallybeginning to apply the pressure again and to feel the tuna at the end ofthe line. 

One hundred, two hundred, three hundred feet of line reeled out at thissecond great rush, and the older man began to look grave as the big reelgrew empty. 

"Ought I to try and stop him with the brake, Father?" asked the boy. 

"Better not try too hard, " came the cautious answer, "the weight of theline that is out is a heavy pull on him. Unless he's a monster he'llhave to stop soon. "

Fifty feet more of line ran out before the rush stopped, and then achange of action at the other end of the line telegraphed the message tothe boy's fingers that the tuna, for the first time in its life, hadfelt fatigue. From over four hundred feet away Colin felt the call andrealized that now he might expect a victory if only he could keep up thefight to the end and never make a slip. One error, he knew, would befatal; one jerk, and the line would snap, one strain too great, and thestrands would give way. 

He began to reel in. His back ached and his fingers became cramped, butstill he reeled, every fifty feet or so having to let the line run outas the tuna made a rush, so that a quarter of an hour's careful bringingin would be spoiled in thirty seconds. In forty minutes of heartbreakingstrain, the boy had gained not more than forty feet of line, but he wasgame and stuck to it manfully. Reeling in carefully, the fish eithersulking or resting, in the next few minutes he won his greatest gain andpulled in until there was not more than one hundred feet of line out. His heart was beating high with hope, when the tuna sighted the boatagain and darted away, apparently as fresh and full of fight as when hehad at first been hooked. 

At this last rush, when it appeared that there was no immediateslackening of the powers of the splendid fish, Major Dare said:

"Do you want me to finish him for you?"

In his inmost heart Colin feared that he would have to give up, but hedid not want to admit it. He was utterly inexperienced in the sport andknew nothing of the many ways whereby older anglers relieve themselvesof much of the strain, but the boy's nerve was untouched, and he set histeeth and answered:

"I want to bring him in all by myself, if I can, Father. I'm not doneyet, not by a long shot. But if you think I ought to let you finish it, why, I suppose I'll have to. "

"No, I want to see you bring him in, " his father said; "only don't killyourself at it. It's just as well not to overstrain yourself; it's easyto have too much energy without judgment. "

The boy's grit was soon rewarded, for after this rush, the tuna changedhis tactics, and sinking down to about thirty feet from the surface, began a steady powerful swim, not a rush, but a straightaway, havingabout two hundred feet of line out. To the boy's surprise the boat beganto slip along at a fair rate of speed, and he saw that miracle ofangling, a hundred-pound fish, frightened and angry, towing a heavy boatwith three people in it at a rate of five miles an hour by a line nothicker than a hairpin. With constant watchfulness and deft management, the boy was able to gain a few inches at a time. But a few inches makebut little difference when there is two hundred feet of line out!

For over twenty minutes the tuna towed the boat, and then his moodchanged. Though not by any means exhausted, the first undauntedfreshness had worn off and, sulky and savage, the fish charged back atthe line again, that strange white thing in the water that he could notshake off and that followed him no matter where he went. But in chargingback at the line, as before, he found the boat at the other end of it. The return charge had been slower than before, and the big multiplier onthe reel had done its work, so that when the tuna came near the boat notmore than seventy feet of line was out, and the boy determined to holdon to this. 

Reaching the surface of the water, the tuna turned. But this time therewas no slack and the fish could not begin a rush. He would not plunge inthe direction of his captor, and Colin kept a steady strain upon theline, forcing the tuna to swim round and round the boat. This was fatalto the fish, for Colin was able to keep a sidewise drag upon the line, giving the tiring creature no chance to turn its head and dash away. 

"You're playing very well!" the boy's father approvingly said, as he sawhow, unconsciously, the lad was adopting tricks of angling someexperienced fishermen never really learn. 

Colin flushed at the praise, and kept closer watch of the constantstrain on his line. The boatman, seizing every opportunity, ever andagain thrust the boat forward, giving the lad a chance to take in moreslack, so that the tuna swam in ever lessening circles. Suddenly he madea sharp flurry and tried to dive. But the line was tight and the brakeheld him closely, the lifting action curving the giant body in spite ofitself and preventing the dive. 

The attempt had cost the fish full thirty feet of liberty, and the boatwas very near. With a little pumping--that is, raising the rod slowly, then dropping the point quickly and reeling in the foot or so gained, the boy's father showing him how this should be done--Colin brought thefish still nearer. Once more the tuna came up to the surface with a rushin order to get slack enough for a plunge. This might mean that thewhole performance would have to be done over again, but again the fishwas checked, Colin having the line reeled up almost to the wire leader, and with a quickness that was wonderful in its accuracy, the boatmanneatly dropped the gaff under the jaws of the tuna. There was a short, sharp flurry, but Vincente knew every trick of the game and speedilybrought the gallant fish on board. 

"Two hours an' ten minutes, sair, " said the boatman. "An' I t'ink, sair, zat it's over a hundred. "

"You did splendidly, Colin, " began his father. "Why, what's the matter?"he continued in alarm, as the boy sank back in his seat, looking paleand sick. 

"I'm a bit done up, that's all, " the boy answered, gasping. His handswere trembling so that he could not hold the rod, and his face wasashen. 

"Buck fever, I suppose?"

"Yes, sair; he's all right in a minute, " said the boatman. "It does zatevery little sometimes, Major Dare. I've seen even ze old angler getvery much tired out after ze strain. "

"It's the reaction, " said Colin's father, as he laved the boy'sforehead, and just as Vincente had said, in a moment or two the colorcame back into the lad's cheeks and he straightened up. 

"Silly to act like that, " he said. Then, seeing his father's look ofconcern, he added, "I feel as though I'd like some grub. "

Kindly refraining from increasing the boy's embarrassment by commentingon his exhaustion spell, the older man reached for the basket and handedout a package of sandwiches. Two hours of excitement and exertion in thehot sun, following a very early breakfast, had affected Colin sharply, but boy-like, he was always ready for eating. 

"That was what I wanted, " he said, as a few bites disposed of the firstsandwich and he took another. 

The boatman nodded approvingly. 

"He's goin' to be fine angler, all right, " he said. "Major Dare, if zattuna's over a hundred, ze boy ought to get ze button. Zat's ze right rodan' line an' it was caught accordin' to ze rules of ze club. "

"Could I really get a button?" asked Colin excitedly, the very thoughtdriving away the last remnants of his attack of weakness. "Is it reallya tuna? And is it over a hundred pounds?"

"It's a tuna without question, " his father answered, "but I'm not sosure about the weight. If Vincente says it is, he's likely to be right. "

"Near one hundred and ten, I t'ink, " the boatman answered, "an' I'm sureover one hundred. 'Bout one hundred, six or seven, I should t'ink. "

"Do you want to put out the line again, Colin?" his father asked. 

"Thank you, I've had enough for one day, " the boy replied. "Let's seeyou get one, Father!"

It was a great delight to lie back on the seat with the consciousnessof a great feat achieved, to watch the gulls and sea-birds overhead andthe flying-fish skimming the rippling sea. Major Dare had excellentsport with a couple of yellowtail--one of which was played fifty minutesand the other thirty-five--but the honors of the day rested with Colin. It was nearly noon as the little launch came up to the pier, and the sunwas burning hot, but there were a score of loungers on the beach towelcome them. 

"Any luck, Vincente?" called a friendly boatman, as the little craftsped by. 

"Good luck, " was the reply. "Boy got a hundred-pounder!"

"Did, eh?" exclaimed the other boatman, turning round to stare, andColin felt that this really was fame. Word was sent to a member of theweighing committee of the club, and in his presence the fish was put onthe scales. It proved not to be as large as Vincente had thought, beingbut one hundred and four pounds, but this was a clear margin over thehundred, and Colin was just as well pleased as if it had been a hundredand forty. 

He was eager beyond words to know what would be the verdict of the club, but as the catch had been officially registered, was thoroughly withinthe rules, and Major Dare was a valued member of the club, it wasunanimously agreed that a blue button should be awarded to Colin. He wasaccordingly elected to junior membership and so received it. The nexttwo weeks passed all too quickly for the boy, for he got the fishingfever in his veins, and if he had not been held in check, he would havestayed on the water night and day. He made a very creditable record, getting a thirty-pound yellow-tail and several good-sized white sea-bassand bonito. But he never even got a bite from one of the big blacksea-bass, though his father made a splendid four-hour fight, landing atwo-hundred-pounder. The lad's tuna of a hundred and four pounds, also, was far outdone by one his father caught ten days later, which scaledexactly one hundred and seventy pounds. 

Three times, in the next two weeks, Colin found himself again fast to atuna, but was unable to land any of the three. His first he lost byjerking too quickly at the strike. The second walked away with hisentire six hundred feet of line at the first rush, and probably was afish beyond the rod and reel capacity, and the third broke the linesuddenly in some unexplained way, possibly, the boatman said, becausethe tuna had been seized by a shark when down in thirty fathoms ofwater. 

"Does the tuna live on flying-fish only, Vincente?" asked Colin of theboatman, a couple of days before he was going to leave. 

"Mos'ly zey do, sair, I t'ink, " was the reply, "zat is, when zey can getdem. But zey'll eat nearly any fish an' zey are quite fon' o' squid. Some fishermen use squid for tuna bait, but I don't t'ink much of zeidea. "

"Let's see, " said the boy thoughtfully, "a squid is something like anoctopus, isn't it?"

"Well, no, sair, not exac'ly, " the boatman answered. "Bot' of zem havearms wavin' around, but zey look quite diff'rent, I t'ink. An' a squidhas ten arms, but an octopus has jus' eight. "

"Eight's enough, it seems to me, " said Colin. "And are there many ofthem here? I suppose there must be if they use them for bait. "

"Yes, sair, zere is plenty of zem hidin' in ze kelp and ozzer seaweed. "

"But how do you catch them?" asked the boy. "Isn't it dangerous?"

"Not a bit, sair, " answered the boatman. "I t'ink a squid can't do anyharm. In Newfoun'land, so some one tell me, zey run as big as sixty andseventy feet, but in Santa Cat'lina, four or five feet from ze tail toze end of ze arms is as long a one as I have seen, I t'ink. "

"I'd like to go catching squid, just to see how it's done, " said theboy. "The squid I've seen on the Atlantic coast don't often grow biggerthan twelve inches. "

"Catch plenty of zem, any evening you say, " the boatman answered; "zeeasiest way is to spear zem. "

"Bully!" the boy answered; "let's go to-night! I'll get leave, when I goback to lunch. "

When Colin proposed a squid-hunt, at first his mother objected, sayingshe was sure such ugly-looking creatures must be poisonous, but thefather knew that this was not the case, and having every confidence inVincente, who was his regular boatman, he gave the desired permission. Accordingly, after an early supper, Colin started out with Vincente to asection of the shore. The tall, sharp cliffs jutted straight out of thewater, and far upon the crest were the characteristic flock of goatsbrowsing along paths impassable to any other animal. Below the water laythe forest of giant kelp. 

"We s'all find some squid 'round here, " the boatman said; "and sometimeszere are octopus, too, though ze mos' of zem are on ze rocks a littlefurzer along. "

"We'd better get busy, I think, " said Colin, "it won't be so very longbefore it begins to get dark. "

"We'll see, " was the reply, and picking up his gaffing-hook, Vincenteprodded here and there amid the kelp. "T'ought so, " he added a minutelater, and pointed at the water. 

"I don't see anything, " said Colin, looking closely. "The water's toomuddy. "

"No mud, " said the boatman, "zat's sepia ink ze squid has squirted so asto hide. Zey always do zat. Zere's probably a lot of zem zere, for zeyalways keep togezzer. "

"Is that the real sepia ink, do you know, Vincente?" the boy asked. 

"Ze squid, no; ze octopus, yes. Zere is two or t'ree people here zatcatch ze octopus an' sen' ze ink bags to Frisco. See, zere's squid!"

As his eyes became a little accustomed to the reflections in the weed, Colin was able to see ghostlike brown forms that seemed to slide ratherthan swim through the water. 

"Do they swim backwards?" he asked in surprise. 

"Always, I t'ink, " said the boatman. "Zey take in water at ze gills andzey shoot it out from a pipe near ze mout', an' zat way zey pushzemselves along tail first. I'll bring ze boat closer to ze shore forzey'll back away from ze boat an' get into shoal water where we canspear zem. "

Moving very slowly and beating the seaweed as they went, little bylittle the two drove the hosts of squid back through the kelp to anarrow bay, the water being turned to a muddy brownish-black by thedischarge of the ink-bags. The squid were of fair size, ranging from oneto four feet in length, of which the body was about one-third. PresentlyVincente's hand shot back a little and, with a quick throw, he cast the'grains, ' as the small-barbed harpoon was called, into the midst ofthem. Colin's eyes were not quick enough to see the squid, but theboatman smiled. 

"Got him zat time!" he said. "Pull him in. "

Without a moment's hesitation Colin grasped the rope that was attachedto the small harpoon. 

"Don't jerk, " the boatman warned him; "ze flesh isn't very tough an'unless you pull steady ze spear will draw right out. "

Suddenly Colin felt the rope tauten. 

"What's the matter?" he said. "I can't move it. "

"Ze squid has got hold of ze bottom, " said the boatman with a laugh. "No, you can't move him. Nozzing move a squid, after he's got hold ofsomet'ing. He'll hang on to ze bottom till ze end of ze world, an' he'dlet himself be cut to pieces before he'd let go his hold. Better jerk zespear out!"

Colin gave a quick yank and the barbed harpoon came up with the blade asclean as though it had never been plunged into anything. 

"Zere!" the boatman cried, as Colin stood holding the 'grains, ' "onegreat big one right under you!"

Colin had no time for aim, but seeing a vague shadow below the boat, heallowed for the refraction of the water, and threw the small barbedspear with all his might. His cast was as clean as though he wereexperienced, and as he grasped the rope he cried to the boatman with alaugh:

"Beginner's luck!"

"Don't let him get to anyt'ing solid, " the boatman warned him. "Jus'keep him from zat an' you're all right. Don't play him like a fish. Jus'pull him in. "

This was child's play, for the squid's queer method of going through thewater offered no resistance and he was pulled up to the boat. But nosooner had the cephalopod come within reach than the tables were turned. With the speed of light the creature swung over, threw two of its armsunder the boat; one clasped the gunwale and others fixed themselves onthe boy's bare arms, while two waved freely as though waiting a chanceto twine around his neck and strangle him. 

Colin yelled with fright. As the cold, clammy suckers crinkledthemselves into his flesh, the skin all over his body seemed to creep indisgust. He had been bending over as he hauled up the rope and thesquid's tentacles around his arms held him poised half out of the boat, his head not more than a foot and a half from the surface of the water, looking straight into the hypnotic, black, unwinking eyes of thesea-monster. 

The instinct of fright arose. Using all his strength, he raised hisright arm and grasped the tentacle that had been wound around his leftarm. To his surprise he found that a moderate amount of force only wasneeded to pull the grasp of the tentacle free, and he released himselffrom the creature almost without difficulty. Nor, except for a slightlyreddened spot on his arms, was there any outward evidence of theencounter. 

Vincente reached down for the cephalopod, allowing it to wrap some ofthe tentacles about him, then pried its grasp from the boat with thehandle of the gaff. He made no attempt to free himself from the squid, but as he stood still for a minute or two, the creature voluntarilyreleased its hold, falling to the bottom of the boat. 

"Zey haven't any strengt' at all out of ze water, " the boatman said, "but while swimming zey have a good deal. See, ze whole body of zatsquid isn't more zan two feet long, an' yet if he'd got a hold of you inze water, specially with ze bigger suckers on ze t'ick part of ze arms, you might have had some trouble. Zose big fellows wit' bodies twentyfeet long an' arms t'irty feet, mus' be one horrible t'ing to meet on adark night. "

"But would they attack you?"

"Never, I t'ink, " said the boatman. "Ze biggest of zem hasn't a beaklarge enough to take in a herring. "

"Well, " Colin said, "I suppose that really wasn't as exciting as itseemed, but I tell you, for a while, I felt as if I was having all thethrill I wanted. "

"You ought to try ze octopus, now, " said the boatman with a chuckle;"zat is, if you've had enough of ze squids. It's early yet an' we mightgo after some of zose octopuses zat hunt crabs. "

"I'm ready, " said Colin. "They won't get me by surprise, like that squiddid!"

The sun was near the horizon when Colin and the boatman landed on therocky shore, and the sunset colors were gorgeous. But Colin did not wantto run any chances of being caught napping, and he followed Vincente, watching every move. Presently the boatman stopped and pointed, like adog flushing a covey of partridges. 

About eight feet away was a crab of fair size, perhaps six inches acrossthe shell. Half-way between where they stood and the crab, right on theedge of the water, was a small octopus with its large, glaring, greeneyes fixed on the crab. This was at first the only sight Colin could getof the creature, but by looking into the water closely, he was able tomake out the vague shape of the octopus. The cuttlefish had changed fromits natural color to the exact hue of the sandy bottom on which it wascrawling, and it was advancing so slowly that its progress could hardlybe seen. 

[Illustration: OCTOPUS CAUGHT AT SANTA CATALINA, TWENTY-TWO FEET ACROSS. 

_By permission of Mr. Chas. Fredk. Holder. _]

[Illustration: SQUID CAUGHT AT SANTA CATALINA, 20 FEET IN LENGTH. 

(In Newfoundland a species reaches 70 feet. )

_By permission of Mr. Chas. Fredk. Holder. _]

Suddenly, as a wave washed it within a few feet of the crab, two of thetentacles darted out so swiftly that Colin could scarcely follow themove until they were upon the crab, the rest of the body of the octopusflattening itself upon the sand as though to secure a greater purchase. The crab set both its claws into the soft flesh of the tentacles, whereupon, with a series of horrible convulsions, the cuttlefishlumbered entirely out of the sea and, with two or three repulsive andsinuous gyrations, it forced itself bodily over the crab. By this meansthe outstretched membranes at the base of the tentacles smothered themovements of the prey and prevented escape, while at the same time themouth and biting beaks were brought into position where they could finda vital part. 

"Do you want zat one as a specimen?" asked the boatman. 

Colin was conscious inwardly that he would have preferred to havenothing at all to do with the repulsive object, but as he had come outin pursuit of an octopus, he would not, for the world, have shown thewhite feather before the boatman. 

"Yes, unless we find a bigger, " he said, with an overdone assumption ofease. 

"I t'ink, sair, " Vincente responded, "zat we'd better be satisfied wit'zis one. Shall I take it or will you?"

There was just a hint of irony in the boatman's tone, and rememberingthe timidity he had shown when clutched by the squid, Colin felt thatthis was the chance to redeem himself. 

"I don't mind taking it, " he said. "You say these things are quiteharmless. "

"Quite, sair, I t'ink, " the boatman replied. 

"All right, " was the boy's rejoinder, and he walked forward boldlytoward the octopus. The green eyes regarded him steadily, and just asthe boy stooped to grasp the slimy body, it seemed to gather itself in aheap and started for the sea. 

This was an unexpected move, but Colin, having stated that he wantedthat octopus, did not propose to be cheated out of it. He was surprisedthat the cuttlefish could move so fast, and his repugnance gave way toexcitement as he started running after the writhing eight-armedcreature. He was just about to grab it when he tripped on a rock, covered with slippery seaweed, and fell headlong, the fall throwing himimmediately upon the octopus. For a moment the boy was staggered, andhe never knew whether he had grabbed the cephalopod or whether it hadgrasped him, all he knew was that he was lying on the ground with six ofthe eight arms of the octopus around him. 

The boy was just in time to throw up his hands to protect his eyes, as atorrent of the inky fluid deluged him from head to foot. He struggled toget up, but the two tentacles of the cuttlefish held fast to adjacentrocks, and Colin might have found difficulty in freeing himself, owingto the awkward attitude in which he had been caught, but for Vincente, who wrenched the tentacles away from their hold. 

"Are you all right, sair?" the boatman asked. 

"All right, " said Colin stoutly, as he got up. 

Seldom had he been such a sight! He was black from head to foot with thesepia fluid, his clothes were torn where he had fallen on the rocks, andhe was smothered in the nauseous embrace of the uncanny and diabolicaleight-armed creature clinging to his shoulder. Once, on the way to theboat, the cuttlefish seemed ready to drop off, but, at Vincente'swarning, Colin made believe to force apart the other tentacles, and theoctopus renewed its hold. As soon as they reached the boat and the boystood still a moment, the cuttlefish let go, and fell to the bottom ofthe boat. 

Colin looked down at himself and laughed, then jumped overboard in allhis clothes, threshing around in the water to remove as much of thesepia as he could, clambering in when he had washed off the worst of it. 

Vincente looked at him. 

"I t'ink, sair, " he said, smiling, "you ought to be photograph' wit' zecatch!"

CHAPTER VI

DEFEATED BY A SPOTTED MORAY

Colin's brilliant success at Santa Catalina, signalized by his receiptof the tuna button, had so increased Major Dare's pride in him that whenthe boy renewed his request that he be allowed to enter the Bureau ofFisheries, his appeal received attention. The inspiration that he hadgained from the whole-hearted enthusiasm of the professor was evident inall that the boy said, and his father was surprised to find how much thelad really had learned about the work of the Government during hisexperiences in the Behring Sea and on the Columbia River. 

"It doesn't appeal to me particularly, " his father said quietly, whenthe boy closed a somewhat impassioned petition, "but we are each builtupon a different pattern. To me, fish are of interest as a food and forsport. I couldn't be satisfied to take them up as a lifework. There's nomoney in it; of course, you can see that. "

"There isn't in any government work, is there?"

"No, " was the reply, "big fortunes are always made in individual ways. But when you're starting out in life, it is much more important to beable to do the work you like than it is to seek only for money. Theprincipal thing I'm afraid of is that you will find it tiresome andmonotonous after a while. It's very hard work with a good deal of manuallabor involved, and there is nothing particularly attractive in a bushelof fish-eggs!"

"But it's only on the start that you have to do the steady grind, " Colinobjected, "and one has to do that in every line of work. I know youwould very much rather I took to farming or lumbering, but I think afish is a much more interesting thing to work with than a hill of cornor a jack-pine. "

"But don't you think you would find it tame after a while?"

Colin leaned forward eagerly. 

"I know I wouldn't, " he said confidently. "I've heard you say, Father, that everything was interesting if you only went into it deeply enough. Now, there's more chance for real original work with fish than in anyother line I've ever heard of. The professor gave me an idea of all thedifferent problems the Bureau was trying to solve, and each of them wasmore interesting than the last. You've got to be a doctor to study fishdiseases, an engineer to devise ways and means for stream conditions, achemist to work on poisons in the water that comes from factories, andall sorts of other things beside. It looks to me as though it had thebest of all the professions boiled down into one!"

"That's an exaggerated statement, of course, " was the reply; "but youseem in earnest. No, " he continued, as Colin prepared to burst forthagain, "you've said enough. "

The boy waited anxiously, for he felt that the answer would decide hiscareer. 

"If your heart is set on the Fisheries, " his father rejoinedthoughtfully, after a few minutes' reflection, "I presume it would beunwise to stop you. But remember what I have told you before--I'mperfectly willing to fit you for any profession in life you want to takeup, but only for one. If you begin on anything you have got to gothrough with it. I'll have no quitting. As you know, I would rather youhad taken up lumbering, but I don't want to force you into anything, andperhaps your brother Roderick may like the woods. You're sure, however, as to what you want?"

"I want fishes!" said Colin firmly. 

"I've been looking up the question a little since you wrote to me fromValdez, " Major Dare continued, "because I saw that your old desires hadincreased instead of dying out. You know, Colin, I want to help you asmuch as I can. You realize that there's no school of fisheries, like theforestry schools, don't you?"

"Yes, Father. "

"And that if you go into the Bureau the only way you can learn is by theactual work, hard work and dirty work, too, it will be often. "

"Yes, sir, " the boy answered, "I was told that, too. "

"I wrote to the Commissioner, " said Major Dare, "and explained the wholeposition to him. He answered my letter in a most friendly way, andshowed me just what I've been telling you this morning. He pointed outfrankly that the Bureau had so much to do and so little moneyappropriated to do it on, that such a thing as a 'soft job' wasn't knownin the service. "

"I'm not looking for that, " said Colin, a trifle indignantly. 

"I don't think you are, my boy, but you want to be sure before you takethe plunge, " was the warning answer. "You oughtn't to wait until you arein college before you make up your mind. "

Colin looked across the table at his father and met his glance squarely. 

"There's nothing else that I want to do, " he said firmly, "and I do wantthat. Of course, I'll do whatever you say, but I feel that the Bureau ofFisheries is where I'm bound to land in the end. "

"No going back?"

"No going back, Father!"

Major Dare reached out his hand, and the boy grasped it warmly. 

"Very well, my boy, that's a compact. I'm not sure just what will needto be done to enter you in the Bureau, but whatever is necessary, we'lldo. I think you have decided on a life that will be hard and sometimesthankless, but at least it is a man's job, and will have its owncompensations. You couldn't possibly do anything more useful. We'll gohome by way of Washington, visit the Fisheries Bureau together, and seewhat arrangements we can make. "

"That's bully, Father, " said Colin earnestly; "thank you ever so much. "

"Make good, my boy, " his father answered, "that's all you have to do. You'll only have yourself to thank, for it will be all your own fight. "

It was fortunate for Colin that this was not decided until the daybefore they left Santa Catalina, for he became so impatient that theintervening hours before they started for the East seemed like weeks tothe boy. His enthusiasm was so genuine that, although his mother wasalready very tired of the interminable 'angling' conversation in SantaCatalina, she succeeded nobly in evincing an intense interest in thewhole fish tribe. 

When they arrived in Washington, which chanced to be in the afternoon, Colin wanted to start off for the Bureau of Fisheries immediately, evenbefore he went to the hotel, and he seemed to feel quite aggrieved whenthe visit was put off. Major Dare had some important business to lookafter and he purposed to leave the question of the boy's arrangementsopen for a couple of days, but he saw there would be no peace for anyone until Colin's fate was settled, and at the boy's importunity he'phoned to the Bureau and made an appointment with the Commissioner forthe following day. 

Next morning, accordingly, the two started off together for theFisheries Building, an antiquated structure standing in the magnificentpark behind the National Museum and but a short distance from theSmithsonian Institution. They entered on the ground-floor, seeing to theleft a number of hatching troughs, to the right models of nets andfishing-vessels, at the far end a small aquarium, while in the centerwas a tank in which were the two fur seals that the boy had heard aboutin the Pribilof Islands. 

He pulled his father's arm. 

"Oh, Father!" he cried; "there are the fur seals. Come over and seethem!"

But his father shook his head smilingly. 

"They are not personal friends of mine, as they seem to be of yours, " hesaid, "and I have no time to waste. Besides, we have an engagement withthe Commissioner. You can come down and chat with your sealacquaintances after our talk. "

The Commissioner greeted them cordially, and without waste of words. 

"So this is the boy!" he said, after the customary greetings. "He'llneed to grow a bit, eh?"

"So did both of us once, " said Major Dare, looking at his own heightand the Commissioner's burly frame. "We haven't done so badly. "

"That's true. Well, boy, tell me just what you want to do. "

"Everything that there is to do in the Bureau, Mr. Glades, " answeredColin promptly. 

The Commissioner rubbed his hand over his chin, with a short laugh. 

"That's a big order, " he said. "Willing to work?"

"Yes, sir, " the boy replied; "I don't mind work. "

"This is the place for it. There's just two kinds of people in theworld, " the Commissioner went on; "those who do just what they learn todo and nothing else, and those who do the work because they want to. "

"Yes, sir, " again responded the boy, wondering what was coming. 

"The first lot keep things running and that's all. The others are thereal men. The last are the men we've got in the Bureau and everybody hasto be up to the standard. So, there you are. "

"I don't know whether I can come up to the standard, but I'm one ofthose that want to!" the boy said emphatically, rightly judging thatthe Commissioner was not the sort of man who liked long speeches. 

[Illustration: HEADQUARTERS OF THE U. S. FISHERIES BUREAU, ATWASHINGTON, D. C. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

[Illustration: HAULING THE LARGEST SHAD SEINE IN THE WORLD. 

Spawn-taking operations on the Potomac River. Trying to save fromextinction one of America's finest-flavored food fishes. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Good! Going to college?"

The boy looked at his father. 

"I had thought of sending him to Brown, " he said, "since he got thisFisheries idea. One of my friends told me that it was an excellentuniversity for biology. "

"Do it!" said the Commissioner. "Send him to college in the winter, lethim work with us in the vacation. That'll give him four summers'training with us. When he comes out of college he ought to be worthsomething to the Bureau. But don't start and then give up. "

"Colin won't do that, " his father said, then added pointedly, "I'll seeto it that he doesn't. "

"Very well, " said the Commissioner, "that's settled. " He rang a bell, and a messenger appeared at the door. "Ask Dr. Crafts to step here aminute if he is disengaged. Dr. Crafts, " he continued, turning to MajorDare, "is perhaps one of the most valuable men we have on the Bureau. Oh, by the way, boy, when do you want to start?"

"Right away, sir, if possible, " Colin replied. 

"Is that novelty or enthusiasm?"

"Enthusiasm, I think, " Major Dare answered, smiling. 

In a moment the door opened again, and the Deputy Commissioner came in. 

"Dr. Crafts, " the Commissioner said, after introductions had been made, "here's an enthusiastic youngster who wants the Commissionership! Notright away, perhaps, " he added as the newcomer smiled at the boy, "butperhaps in a couple of decades or so. And he thinks he ought to startthis minute. Have we anything for him to do?"

"I don't know of anything especially, " said the Deputy Commissionerthoughtfully; "it's so late in the season. "

"Let him have something to work off his animal spirits, " theCommissioner said; "it's a pity to let so much energy go to waste. "

"Very well, " the other said genially; "we'll see what we can do. Willyou join us, Major Dare?"

"I think not, " the boy's father answered; "I will leave him entirely inyour hands, and he can tell me all about it afterwards. I want just aword or two more, Commissioner, " he added, "and then I must be going. "

"What's your name, lad?" asked his new chief, as they walked along thehall. 

"Colin Dare, sir, " the boy responded. 

"Which is it to be, " the official asked with a pleasant smile, "'Colin'or 'Dare'?"

The boy looked up at him and felt instantly the thorough kindliness andfine worth of his companion, and answered promptly:

"'Colin, ' sir, if you don't mind. That is, at least, to you. "

"All right, Colin, " was the reply; "I suppose we must see what we canfind for you to do. Tell me, " he continued, as they entered his office, "how you came to think of entering the Fisheries Bureau?"

Thus adjured, Colin told briefly how his father had tried to interesthim first in lumbering and then in engineering, but that neither hadappealed to him. Then he told of his whaling adventures and of the fewdays he had spent on the Pribilof Islands, recounting the Japanese raidwith great gusto. The Deputy Commissioner, who had heard nothing but theofficial account of the fracas was intensely interested and hequestioned Colin closely, noting carefully the boy's clear understandingof the seal question. 

"You have a head for facts, Colin, " he said approvingly, when the wholeadventure had been told, "because you really have noted the importantpoints in that sealing business, and it is more complicated than itlooks. Go on, now, and tell me how you came down from Valdez. "

So Colin took up the story again, described his meeting with thelieutenant of the revenue cutter and the kindness he had received fromhim. The Deputy Commissioner smiled, for the officer in question was aclose personal friend. Then Colin told of the salmon tagging and of hisvisit to the hatchery, not forgetting the capture of the sea-serpent. 

"It seems to me, " Dr. Crafts said jokingly, "that you have become apublic personage in connection with Fisheries even before you come intothe Bureau. To figure in a Japanese seal raid and to capture asea-serpent in the same summer is enough fame for anybody!"

Colin laughed and answered:

"After that it would seem a little like boasting, but----" he reachedinto his pocket and pulled out the tuna button, safely stowed away in atightly-closed box. 

The Deputy Commissioner whistled softly in surprise. 

"And did you win this, too?" he asked. "You went to Santa Catalina, then?"

"Yes, Dr. Crafts, " the boy replied, and related his experiences whilethere. He told the story well, and the Deputy Commissioner--who was amaster in that art--nodded appreciatively. 

"So far as I can judge, " he said, "the Bureau is the place for you. ButI don't know where to fit you in. It is getting on towards the middle ofAugust, and not only is the work all arranged for the summer, but mostof it is done. "

"I just want to be at work, " pleaded the boy, "for the experience, notfor what I can get out of it, of course. "

"That sort of arrangement is impossible, " answered the DeputyCommissioner; "there is plenty of volunteer work done in the Bureau, butsuch work is always along the line of special investigation, and it isgiven to those who are equipped for research, usually universityprofessors. The assistants are always paid, and you see I couldn't verywell create a precedent on your account!"

"No, Dr. Crafts, " answered Colin, quite disheartened; "I suppose not. "

The Deputy Commissioner tapped on the desk thoughtfully. 

"It happens, " he said, "that a friend of mine who is attached to theAmerican Museum of Natural History--that's the New York museum, youknow--sails for Bermuda next Saturday to get some material. He wants totake a helper along, and the Museum provides him with funds for engaginghelp on the island. "

"Yes, sir, " the boy said, wondering what was coming. 

"Now, " the Fisheries official continued, "if he has got to have help itmight be a good experience for you to go with him, but you may have topay your way across. What salary you receive over there would just aboutmeet the expenses of the trip, so that you would break even. Would youlike to do it?"

"I'd rather start in on the Bureau, " Colin answered, but he was wiseenough not to refuse an opportunity, and continued, "but if you think itwould be a good thing for me to do, why, of course, I'm ready. "

"I think it would be an excellent chance, " the Deputy Commissionersaid, "because we do very little work around the Bahamas, and none atall in Bermuda, so that it would give you an idea of the fish-life therewhich, otherwise, you might never get. And if you tried any Bureau worknow, you would be handicapped by not having started with the other boys, and you'd be so far behind that you might feel badly about it. So theBermuda opportunity seems to me the best chance. "

"What is the purpose of the trip, sir?" asked the boy. 

"To prepare a model for the Museum which will give people an idea of thesea-gardens as they really are. Part of the model will be of preparedspecimens, I believe, and some will be copies made of spun glass. Iunderstand that Mr. Collier wants to study especially the sea anemones, the corals, the sponges, and the sea-fans; also, to note the habits ofthe fish peculiar to the coral reefs, and show them in the model asthough they were swimming about in their natural habitat. "

"That would be awfully interesting!" said Colin. 

"It will teach you a lot, " rejoined the Deputy Commissioner, "and youcan't ever know too much about sea-life. The real backboned fishes, with which the Bureau principally deals, are only a small part of thepopulation of the ocean. "

"Shall I go and call on this gentleman, then, Dr. Crafts?" the boyasked. 

"You had better drop in and see me this afternoon, " was the reply. "I'lltelephone to Mr. Collier and ask him to take lunch with me and we'lltalk it over then. Suppose you come in about half-past two o'clock, andif he takes kindly to the scheme I'll have him meet you here. If he hasother plans, why, there's no harm done, and we'll try and think ofsomething else. "

Thanking his new-found friend heartily, but not quite sure whether heliked this way of shelving him from the Bureau for a season, Colin madehis way to the lower story of the building, where he felt that the twoyoung fur seals were old friends. As it happened, a couple of boys abouthis own age came along and, overhearing their remarks, Colin joined in, realizing that they had all sorts of wrong ideas about the seals. Hewaxed so enthusiastic that, as other people came in, they gatheredaround him and, before Colin was really conscious of it, he had quite anaudience. Among them was an old attendant of the Bureau who, as ithappened, had been on the Pribilof Islands with Dr. Brown Goode, in1872. He listened for a while, then said:

"I beg your pardon, sir, but have you been in St. Paul recently?"

"I was there this spring, " Colin replied. 

"It's just forty years this summer, sir, since I was on the islands. They tell me there's been great changes. " And, without further ado, hecommenced to question Colin closely concerning the place, the boy havingequal interest in learning what the rookeries were like when the firstinvestigation was made. It was not until lunch-time that he could tearhimself away. 

Promptly, at the hour appointed, Colin presented himself at the DeputyCommissioner's office and was met by Dr. Crafts' secretary. His pulsewas beating like a trip-hammer, and he probably looked nervous, for thesecretary glanced once or twice in his direction. Then, wishing to givenews that would be welcome, she said formally, of course, but betrayinga sincere kindliness:

"I think Mr. Collier is with Dr. Crafts now. "

On the instant Colin detected that the secretary knew something aboutthe matter and wanted to reassure him, so he smiled back, saying:

"Thank you. I hope it will be all right, then. "

The two men were chatting earnestly, and the wait seemed long to Colin, but after a while the Deputy Commissioner called him in. 

"This is the boy, Robert, " he said. "Colin, " he continued, "let mepresent you to Mr. Collier. "

"So you're coming along with me to Bermuda and Florida, I hear, " themuseum curator said, shaking hands. 

Colin looked up at the tall, gaunt figure and caught a twinkle ofgood-humor in the deeply-sunk gray eyes. 

"I was hoping to before, sir, " he answered, "and I'm hoping to, evenmore now. "

"That's the way to talk, never lose a chance for a happy phrase, " wasthe reply. "Well, Dr. Crafts here seems willing to go bail foryou--although I understand he never saw you before to-day--and I thinkwe could get along all right, so if you're satisfied, I guess we'll callit a deal. There's one difficulty, though. "

"What's that, sir?" asked the boy. 

"I shall probably need to go to Florida as well, and I should like tohave my assistant stay with me clear through. "

"So much the better, " the boy responded. 

"But I understand you're going to start your freshman year in college?"

"Yes, sir, " the boy answered, "I'm going to Brown. "

"That's what I thought. But you see I don't expect to get back muchbefore the tenth of October, and college will have started by then. Idon't want, " he continued, his eyes twinkling with fun, "to rob theother fellows of the fun of hazing you. "

"I don't think there's much hazing at Brown, sir, and perhaps I shallmiss some of the fun of the opening of the year, " Colin replied, afterthinking for a minute or two; "but I'd much rather take the trip withyou, sir, and I can soon catch up with my class in any subject the firstfew lectures of which I may have missed. "

"But aren't you supposed to be in attendance on a certain day?"

"Yes, Mr. Collier, " the boy replied, "I believe I should be. But Fathercan fix that all right. "

"You think your father can arrange anything, Colin, " said the DeputyCommissioner, smiling. 

"Well, he always has!" the boy declared. 

"If the Florida trip is no barrier, " the curator said, "I think that wecan call the matter settled. Dr. Crafts told you that you would have topay your own passage?"

"Yes, sir. "

"You'll like Bermuda, I think. Everything there's so much worth while. "

"There you go again, Robert, " said the Deputy Commissioner; "always insuperlatives. "

"Of course! Who would want to be otherwise?" said the curator. He turnedto Colin. "Come and take dinner with me to-night, and we'll talk overthe details. Here's my card, " and he penciled his address on thepasteboard. "I'll give you some seaweed pudding, carrageen, you know. "

Colin didn't know, but he thanked his host heartily, and then turned tothe Deputy Commissioner. 

"What is it, Colin?" he was asked. 

"Please, sir, " the boy replied, "you haven't said anything about mychances in the Bureau. "

The Fisheries official looked straight at him with a long, level glance. 

"We need high-grade, well-trained men, " he said; "the more so becausethere are no really good ichthyological schools. And no matter howwell-trained a man may be he's got to have the practical experience andthe grit behind it. If you show in this trip that you're made of theright kind of stuff and if your college work is up to standard, I'llpromise you a summer job for next year and for each year that you're atcollege. You'll be advanced just exactly as fast as you deserve, and nota bit faster. If you want to go into the Bureau your record will bewatched, and you'll sink or swim by that!"

"Very well, sir, " said Colin, a little taken aback by thisstraight-from-the-shoulder statement. "I'll do my best, anyhow. " Heshook hands heartily, and thanking his new chief, hurried excitedly tothe hotel where his family was staying to tell of his success and of theunexpected addition of the Florida trip. 

His father was quite well satisfied that the boy should have so pleasantan initiation into the life he had chosen, and was quite content thatthis semi-holiday opportunity had arisen instead of hard work in one ofthe hatchery stations. Major Dare felt that Colin had already had astrenuous summer and that it was advisable for him to do something alittle less adventurous before beginning his college work. 

The evening that the lad spent with the scientist-artist was arevelation to him, for his host not only knew the life of the bottom ofthe sea as though he had always lived there, but he was a marvelousdesigner in glass, and possessed some of the most exquisite models offragile sea forms, all of which had been made under his direction. Several of these were magnified many times and were more beautiful eventhan any the boy had ever seen pictured. 

There were no half-way measures in Colin's enthusiasm, and he begged Mr. Collier to lend him books, so that during the days that were to elapsebefore starting on the trip, he could get an idea of the life historiesof sea anemones, jellyfish, and the like, with which he would beworking. His friend was both amused and pleased by the lad's eagerness. 

Mrs. Dare had visited friends in the Bermudas once or twice, so that shewas able to give Colin many suggestions which he found went far toincrease the pleasure of his stay. A meeting was arranged, and MajorDare liked his son's new friend immensely, quite a pleasant relationshipbeing established between the two men, so that Colin's departure forBermuda was under the happiest auspices. He soon learned that themuseum curator was not only an authority on his own subject of marineinvertebrates, but that he was interested to the utmost in all sorts ofaffairs, and he admitted confidentially to the boy that he was aninveterate baseball fan. Best of all, perhaps, Colin gained from him thefeeling that science and scholarship were two windows whereby one mightsee how much good there is in the world. 

"Enthusiasm, " Mr. Collier said, "is one of the best forces I know. A boywithout enthusiasm is like a firecracker without a fuse. The powder maybe there all right, but it will never have a chance to make itselfheard. "

The lesser-known life of the sea, in which the boy's interest wascentered for the especial purposes of this trip, seemed to Colin atfirst even more interesting than that of fishes and the voyage toBermuda was practically a continuous revelation of wonders. Thescientist realized that he had not only an assistant, but a disciple, and went to much trouble to teach the lad. This was one of Colin's greatcharacteristics, his interest was always so genuine and so thorough thatothers would do everything they could to help him. 

The Bermuda Islands were sighted for the first time under a cloudy sky, and Colin thought he had never seen a more disappointing sight. Comparedto Santa Catalina, the islands lay low and without sharp contrast, nocliffs rising bluff upon the shore, no mountains looming purple in thedistance. The land was parched--for it was late in the summer--and thescattered foliage looked small and spindling after the gigantic forestsof California. The "beautiful Bermudas" seemed plain and uninviting asthe steamer passed St. David's Head. Moreover, as they steamed downalong the north shore, the same appearance was visible throughout, itslow undulating sea-front of black, honeycombed rock lacking character, the rare patches of sandy beach and sparse sunburned vegetation seemingbare and dreary. 

Reaching Grassy Bay, however, past the navy yard and rounding Hog-fishBeacon, the sun came out and swiftly the scene became transfigured. Asthe steamer drew nearer and began to run between the islands in thechannel, the undulating shores showed themselves as hills and valleys inminiature. The bare, white spots were revealed as white coral houses setin masses of flowers, the foliage--sheltered from the north--gleameddark and luxuriant, while the shallowing crystal water glinted from thewhite sand below as though the steamer were sailing through atranslucent gem. Before the vessel had passed the length of the GreatSound and had warped into Hamilton, Colin had changed his mind, and waswilling to admit that, after all, Bermuda might be quite a pretty place. 

But he could not have believed the transformation scene through which heseemed to pass on landing. Freed from the glare of the waterfront ofHamilton and on the road to Fairyland Bay, he seemed to have entered anew world. It was a Paradise of Flowers, even the Golden State could notoutdo it. Hedges of scarlet hibiscus flamed ten feet high, clusters ofpurple bougainvillea poured down from cottage-porches, while oleander inradiant bloom formed a hedge twenty feet high for as much as half a mileat a stretch. At one moment the road would pass a dense bananaplantation with the strange tall poles of the pawpaw trees standingsentinel, the next it would pass the dark recesses of a mangrove bay, where the sea ebbs and flows amid an impenetrable thicket of interlacingroots. And at frequent intervals a slight rise of ground would show theemerald sea beyond, gleaming as though lit with living light. 

"'The land where it is always afternoon, '" quoted Mr. Collier softly, asthey drove up to the house where they were to stay, a small hoteloverlooking a narrow fiord of rock, into which the translucent waterrippled. Beyond, upon the gleaming bay rested three or four tinyislands. 

"It's almost the loveliest place I ever saw, " said Colin; "but it isn'tas grand and wild as Santa Catalina. "

"I never want to leave Bermuda, " said the other; "every time I visit theislands I decide that some day I must come and live here. And even whenI am away, its memories haunt me. Everything seems so much worth whilehere. "

"What's the programme, Mr. Collier?" asked Colin, after lunch, when theywere comfortably settled. 

"You are at liberty this afternoon, " was the reply, "as I have a numberof small things to look after, so that if you want to get a glimpse ofthe islands, you had better make good use of your time. You ride awheel, of course?"

"Oh, yes. "

"Then walk into Hamilton and rent one; bicycling is the only way to seeBermuda properly. And you'd better go to Devil's Hole this afternoon andsee the fish there. Try and persuade the old keeper of the place totalk, and if you can get him started, he will tell you a good deal aboutBermuda fishes. They're worth knowing about, too!"

Acting on this advice, Colin strolled into the little city and rented abicycle. The roads, he found, were perfect for wheeling, there beingonly one hill too steep for riding, but in spite of all that he hadheard about the absence of distances, it seemed incredible that anhour's easy wheeling should enable him to cover almost half the entirelength of the main island. Everything was in miniature, and having acamera with him, he took snapshots recklessly everywhere, each turn inthe road seeming to give a picture more attractive than the last. He wasto find, however, that the charm of Bermuda is too subtle for thephotographic plate. 

On the way to Devil's Hole, taking the south-shore road, Colin had anopportunity of noticing its amazing contrast to the north shore, whichhad seemed so desolate and uninviting as the steamer came in. Theconformation was widely different, marked by higher cliffs, rocksjutting out boldly into the sea, with the waves boiling over them andthrowing up the spray, wide stretches of fine white sand, and as far asthe eye could see, small circular atolls of coral level with the surfaceof the water. He paused for a little while at the house where the Irishpoet, Thomas Moore, once dwelt while a government employee on theisland, and--like every visitor--he sat for a while under the famousCalabash Tree, renowned in verse. Nor did he fail to visit the marvelousstalactite caves of which Bermuda has five beautiful examples, lightedwith electricity to display their wonders. The boy was greatlyinterested in the most recently discovered one of all, where thestalactites branch like trees in a manner but little understood bygeologists. But, greatly though he wished to investigate this problem, Colin's objective point was the Devil's Hole; and fish, not stalactites, were his first consideration. 

Devil's Hole was a strange place. Lying inland, a little distance fromHarrington Sound, and with no visible connection with the sea, it seemeda creation of its own. It was a pool, sunk in a bower of trees, almostexactly circular and over sixty feet deep. Silent and reflecting everydetail of trees and sky above, the dark water was filled with fishes ofmany varieties, nearly a thousand fish living near the surface or in itsdepths. Underground channels connected it with the Sound, that greatinland sea of Bermuda, and the water in the pool ebbed and flowed withthe tide, changing in level, however, but a couple of inches. A tinybridge spanned the water. 

The old keeper of the place greeted Colin and proceeded to deliverhimself of a humorous rigmarole, designed for the benefit of tourists. It was pure 'nature-faking, ' since it ascribed human characteristics tosome of the fish in the pool, the various specimens being called the"bride" and "groom" and so forth. The screed was rather wearisome toColin, but when he tried to interrupt, the old keeper seemed so hurt andso confused that the boy let him go on to the end. 

The feeding of the fish was a matter of more interest, and it wasstriking to observe that the angel-fish and groupers were able torecognize their respective summons to food, for when the keeper tappedone portion of the bridge it gave a sharp cracking sound to which theangel-fish came flocking, while in calling the groupers and other fish, he hit another portion of the bridge, which reverberated in a differenttone, and the larger fish dashed through the water to the appointedplaces. After this performance was over the keeper was willing to talkless idly, and showed a very considerable knowledge of the species foundin Bermuda waters. 

"I noticed, " Colin said, "that you fed the angel-fish with sea-urchin. Idon't see how they can eat it with their tiny mouths, I should think thespines would get in the way. "

"I crushes the spines before I throws 'em in, " the keeper answered; "butthey eats 'em in the nateral state. I don't know how they gets at 'em. They has lots of savvy, sir, angel-fish has, and for a small fish theycan 'old their own. Why, even the big groupers lets 'em alone. "

"Are the groupers fierce?" the boy asked, with his arms on the rail, looking over at the fish. 

"Fierce enough, sir, " said the old man. "I was tellin' a party once, just what I was tellin' you a while ago about the fish----"

"Yes, " said Colin wearily, realizing that the same nonsense about thebride fish and the bridegroom fish and the "old bachelor" and all therest of it had probably been given as a dose to every visitor fortwenty years back, "and what then?"

[Illustration: THE POOL WHERE THE DOG WAS DEVOURED. 

Angel-fish and groupers in the Devil's Hole, Bermuda. Photographedlooking down in the water from the bridge. Note the reflection of thetrees on the water. 

_Photograph by F. R-W_. ]

"There was an officer in the party, sir, " the keeper continued, "andwhen I spoke of the fish as bein' savage 'e laughed and said 'e didn'tbelieve it. 'E said 'e'd swam around among sharks and never got hurt, but I told 'im 'e wouldn't be willin' to take a plunge in the pool. "

Colin looked down at the fish. 

"They don't look very bad, " he said; "but I don't think I'd like tochance it. "

"You're right, sir; I wouldn't go in, not for a thousand pound. Well, this officer--'e was a captain, I think--made some remark about it allbein' nonsense, and said that even 'is dog would scare the fish so thatthey wouldn't as much as come up from the bottom. "

"That sounds reasonable enough, " said Colin; "a fish wouldn't try toattack a dog. "

"That's what 'e said, " the keeper continued; "and 'e bet me a 'arfsovereign on it. I didn't want to see the dog 'urt, but a bet's a bet, and there weren't no ladies present, so I took 'im up. "

"Well?" queried Colin, as the keeper stopped. 

"'E threw the dog in, " the keeper answered; "it was a spaniel and quiteat 'ome in the water. "

"What happened?"

"In about ten seconds the water was just alive with fish, swimmin' roundand round, comin' up by the 'undred from the deep water. Then they allturned black, like they do always before they're goin' to feed. Remember, I showed you that. "

"Yes, I know; but go on. "

"Then they all at once made a dash for the poor beast. I tried to pull'im out, but there was a couple of 'undred of 'em there, and 'e 'ad nochance. 'E gave just one yelp and then was pulled under, and thegroupers jolly well ate him clear down to the bones. We never saw 'idenor 'air of 'im agen!"

Colin shuddered a little as he looked at the groupers swimming idlyabout and said:

"Don't you suppose it was just because there were so many of them inthis small pool? I hardly think a grouper would attack anything as largeas a dog out in the open sea. They're much the same sort of fish asbass, you know. "

"No, sir, " the keeper answered; "I never 'eard of a grouper bein'dangerous out at sea. But there is a fish that's very bad around thecoral on the reef. "

"You mean sharks?" Colin queried. 

"No, sir, " the keeper answered; "sharks ain't no fish. "

Colin elevated his eyebrows a little at this somewhat surprising way ofstating that the sharks belonged to a lower order of marine species thanany other fish, but he let it pass unchallenged. 

"What fish do you mean, then?" asked the boy. 

"Not sharks, " the keeper replied; "there ain't no sharks near Bermudaanyway, they can't get near enough. The reefs run ten mile out and theynever come away inside 'ere. No, sir, it's the moray I'm talkin' of. "

"The moray?" echoed Colin thoughtfully. "Seems to me I've heard aboutthat fish somewhere. Isn't it green? It's called the green moray?"

"Yes, sir; that's the fish. But there's more spotted morays around thangreen ones. "

"But that's hardly more a fish than a shark is, " objected Colin. "Isn'ta moray a kind of eel?"

"Yes, sir, but an eel's a fish. Leastways so I was always told, when Iused to work over at the Aquarium on Agar's Island. "

"All right, " said Colin good-humoredly, "I guess you're in the rightabout it. Go ahead and tell me about the moray. "

"I was just sayin', sir, that they were the only ugly things aroundBermuda. And they stay quite a bit from shore out around the coralatolls. You see lots of 'em around the sea-gardens. They 'ides in 'olesof the rocks and strikes out at other fishes like a snake. I knew adiver once, who was goin' down after specimens from one of thesea-garden boats, and was nearly drowned. "

"How?" queried Colin a little incredulously. "The moray couldn't bitethrough the diving-bell. "

"No, sir, --no, sir, --not through the diving-bell. But the india-rubbertube that put air into the 'elmet came swingin' past a 'ole in a rock inwhich a six-foot moray was waitin' for anything that might come along, and 'e darted out at it. "

"Did he bite it through?" cried Colin. 

"No, sir; a moray's teeth ain't set that way. 'Is teeth set backwards sothey 'old anything solid. 'E started to swallow the tube, the moray did, and jerked the diver on 'is back so that 'e couldn't pull thesignal-cord. 'E would have been drowned sure, for 'e was forty feetdown, but the water was so clear that some one on board the boat sawthe fish attack 'im, and they pulled 'im up. "

"How about the moray?"

"'E was 'angin' on, " was the reply; "'e wouldn't let go, and by the timethey 'ad the diver on board agen, the fish 'ad chewed up the air-tubepretty well. But that wasn't the worst, sir, " said the talkative oldman, growing garrulous, as he saw the boy look at his watch. "Did youever 'ear 'ow a big moray 'ad a fight with two men, one of 'em afisherman from New York, and jolly well beat 'em both?"

"No, " Colin answered; "how could that be?"

"I didn't see it myself, " the keeper began, "but from all I 'ear thestory's straight enough. The fishin' party 'ad gone out on the reefsafter rockfish, which is one of the gamiest fighters we 'ave 'ere, andsome of 'em runs up to fifty and sixty pounds. They 'ad 'ooked severalfine 'ogfish--you want to 'ave a look at some of 'em; crimson fish theyare with long sweepin' spines--and the next bite turned out to be achub. They could see 'im plainly enough through the clear water. Whenpretty nigh the surface, just near'a large dome of brain coral, a longspotted fish shot out and seized the chub, swallowin' the 'ook into thebargain. "

"Did they have a strong line?" Colin asked. "A moray is a powerful fish, isn't he?"

"'E's all muscle and teeth, " the keeper answered. "Yes, sir, it was'andline fishin' and they 'ad a good strong line, so it was a sure thingthat they could land 'im if 'e didn't wrap the line around a rock. Israel, the boatman, wanted to cut the line, but the New Yorker 'e said, no; 'ad never caught a moray before and 'e 'oped to get this one. Sothey got the boat out into deeper water, Israel keepin' it clear of thereefs and the fisherman tryin' to 'aul in the line. "

"It must have been good fun!" exclaimed Colin. "I wish I'd been there!"

"Just you wait till you've 'eard what 'appened, young sir, " the old manwarned him, "and then p'r'aps you'll be glad you weren't. "

"All right, " the boy prompted him; "go ahead. "

"'E was plucky, though, this chap, so Israel told me, for while 'is 'andwas cut with the line two or three times when the moray made a viciousrush, still 'e 'ung on and that's not as easy as it sounds. But in about'alf an hour the fish was seemin'ly done for and the New Yorker pulled'im in, 'and over 'and, as easy as you please. Just as 'e got 'im to thegunwale, though, the moray gave an extra wriggle, and bein' afraid that'e might get away agen, the fisherman gave a sudden pull and brought 'imon board without waitin' to stun 'im. "

Colin grinned appreciatively. 

"I've heard of a chap who got into trouble with a conger eel that way, "he said. "But go ahead with the story. "

"For about a minute or two, so Israel told me, " the old man went on, "the moray stayed quiet at the bottom of the boat. Then 'e put up 'is'ead, with its gleamin', wicked teeth, and looked first at Israel andthen at the New Yorker. 'E next sort of shook 'imself all along thespine, to make sure 'e was all there, and began to squirm 'is way towardthe stern. "

"That was where the angler was?" queried Colin. 

"Yes, sir; Israel was in the bow. 'E said the New Yorker didn't seem totake it in at first, but that 'e suddenly gave a yell, jumped on one ofthe thwarts, and grabbed the boat-'ook. The fish was an ugly-lookin'brute, from what I 'ear, and a spotted moray over six feet long is asnasty a thing to face as anything I know of. "

"But he didn't deliberately attack the men, did he?"

"That's just what 'e did! There wasn't no threshin' around andflurryin', but the vicious brute acted just like some kind of asea-snake. The fisherman brought down the boat-'ook with all 'is might, but the moray just twisted sidewise as the blow came down, and theblunt-pointed 'ead, with its rows of sharp teeth, darted forward for theNew Yorker's leg. 

"This was too much for 'is nerves and, with a 'owl that could have been'eard a mile away, the fisherman jumped from the dingey into the sea, the teeth of the moray closin' on the thwart where the man's foot 'adbeen a minute before. There was a sound of splinterin', and the eel bitan inch of wood clear out of the board. "

"My word, there must have been power behind that jaw!" ejaculated Colin. 

"For a minute or two the moray was quiet, and then 'e turned round. Butin turnin' 'e got imself twisted, the line which was still fast to 'islower jaw becomin' entangled around one of the rowlocks. But this gave'im 'is chance: with a sudden pull, 'e broke the line and was free. Then, so Israel says, the fish just looked at 'im, and began to slidealong the boat. But Israel didn't wait to find out what the moray wasafter, 'e just decided to take no chances, and jumped for the mast. "

"Why for the mast?" queried Colin. "He couldn't hang on there verylong. "

"No, " the old keeper answered; "but supposin' he went overboard with theNew Yorker, what could they do with the boat? Ask the moray to sail itinto 'Amilton? No, Israel climbed up the light mast 'igh enough for 'isweight to capsize the dingey. As soon as the boat turned over on itsside and the water came in, the moray saw the way to freedom, and dashedback to 'is 'ome in the reefs, 'avin' beaten two good men and gottenaway 'imself. "

CHAPTER VII

HARPOONING A GIANT SEA VAMPIRE

Colin wakened early the following morning and got up promptly, planningto show his alertness, but when he came downstairs and sauntered outbetween the oleander bushes toward the water he heard a hail and foundthat his chief was already up and was busy unpacking some large boxeswhich had been delivered the night before. The boy hurried to help him. 

"What are these, Mr. Collier?" he asked, as some large square boxes witha window in the bottom came into view. 

"These are water glasses, " the scientist answered, "not the kind that isused by tourists, but some I have had made specially--lenses withreflecting mirrors; with them the bottom of the sea ought to show upclearly. As you notice, they are long enough to be usable from the deckof a fair-sized sailing boat. It's a shame only to half-see things asbeautiful as the sea-gardens. When a thing's worth while, it is so muchworth while. "

"I thought you would probably have to dive, " Colin said, "in order tosee the submarine gardens thoroughly. "

The curator shook his head. 

"You'll find, " he said, "that we can see almost as well with these asthough you and I were a couple of angel fish, swimming in and out of thegrottoes of the coral. The water--as you noticed when we were cominginto the harbor--is as clear as crystal. There's nothing in coral sandto make it cloudy or muddy. "

"Are we going out this morning?" the boy queried eagerly, as he helpedin the unpacking of the various instruments that the museum expert hadbrought. 

"The boat is to be here at half-past eight, " was the reply, "and we'regoing to find the most beautiful spot that there is in the submarineGarden of Eden. Our darky boatman, 'Early Bird, ' they call him, says heknows a place quite far out on the reef where there are wonderful grovesand parterres unspoiled by tourists because they lie so distant that itis not worth while for the excursion boats to make the trip. "

"I don't quite see, " said Colin, "how the visit of tourists floatingover a stretch of sea could harm the seaweeds and the coral growing onthe bottom. "

"But it does, because a number of the glass-bottomed boats carry a diverwho goes down and breaks off specimens of coral at the tourists'request, selling them for a good sum. But the gardens to which we aregoing, I understand, are entirely out of the beaten track and are verymuch finer besides. Here is 'Early Bird' now. "

As he spoke, a white sailboat with a large spread of sail came skimminginto the little bay, heading for the private wharf of the hotel at arapid clip. Colin held his breath as the craft came rushing in, for theinlet was not much wider than twice the length of the boat and it seemedcertain that the vessel would crash full upon the rocks not twenty feetbeyond the wharf. But at the very last second the tiller was put over, the sail jibed, and as gently as though she had crept up in a calm, the_Early Bird_ glided up beside the wharf, her bowsprit narrowly missingthe bushes on the bank as she turned. 

"You sure can handle a boat!" cried Colin admiringly. 

The owner of the vessel, a young colored man, of good address and with aclever face, showed his white teeth in a gratified smile as he replied:

"Yas, sah, Ah've sailed a boat roun' the harbor quite a good deal. "

"It looked that time as though you were going to be smashed up, sure. "

"Ah nevah even scraped the paint of a boat in ten yeahs o' sailin', sah, " the colored boatman answered, "an' thar's lots o' shoals, too. "

"It looks as if she were resting on the bottom now!" the boy said. 

"No, sah, " was the confident reply, "the tide's full in an' Ah knowsthis whahf right well. Thar's two feet of wateh under her, right now. "

Early Bird--for both boatman and boat answered to the same name--deftlytook aboard the glasses and other special material that had beenprepared, not forgetting a large lunch basket that had been sent downfrom the hotel, and then he pushed off into the clear and shining water. The early morning breeze laid the little craft over on her side but shehad a good pair of heels and in a few minutes the party was well on itsway across Grassy Bay. 

"Where are we going?" asked Colin. 

Early Bird pointed beyond a group of small islands to where there seemedto be a depression in the land. 

"Thar's a channel, sah, " he said, "right in between those two islands. Thar's a swing bridge across, but the keepeh is always on the lookoutand we can go right through. "

A half hour's sail brought them to the gap between the islands. Thoughthe bridge was shut Early Bird steered confidently straight for thecenter, and it swung just in time, the boat shooting by withundiminished speed and rounding a point to the open water beyond. Beforethem stretched an unbroken vista of ocean. 

"The next land south of you, Colin, " remarked the curator, "isAntarctica. "

Colin thought for a moment, then said in a surprised voice:

"Why, yes. Bermuda is an isolated point, isn't it? I hadn't thought ofthat before. Nearly all islands are in chains, but this little bit of aplace is set off all by itself. I wonder why that is?"

"Bermuda is the top of a submarine mountain, " was the reply, "perhapspart of the lost Atlantis--who knows? This stupendous peak rises almostfifteen thousand feet sheer from the ocean bed and its rugged topforms the basis of the islands. Think what a magnificent sight it wouldbe if we could see its whole height rising from the darkness of theocean deep. "

[Illustration: THE _EARLY BIRD_ PASSING THE BERMUDA AQUARIUM, AGAR'SISLAND. 

_Photograph by C. R-W. _]

"But I thought Bermuda was a coral island!"

"The coral polyp has got to grow on something, hasn't it?" the scientistreminded him. "Don't forget that the little creatures can't live in deepwater. And, you see, Bermuda has gradually been sinking, the coralbuilders keeping pace with the subsidence, so that although the islandis only two miles across at the widest point the reefs are ten mileswide. "

"It really is coral, then?"

"As much as any island is. The base of any coral island is limestone, being made of the skeletons of coral polypi which have been broken andcrushed by wind and weather and beaten into stone. Just as chalk is madeof thousands of tiny shells, so coral limestone is made of myriads ofcoral skeletons. "

"Why, that's like sandstone, " cried Colin, in a disappointed tone. "Ihad an idea that coral was a sort of insect that lived in a shell andthat colonies of these grew up from the bottom of the water like treesand when they died--millions of them--they left the shells and thesestone forests grew up and up until they reached the top of the water andthen soil was formed and that was how coral islands began. "

"I'm not surprised at your thinking that, " his chief replied, "lots ofpeople do. And though that theory is all wrong, still if it has givenfolks an idea of the beauty and wonder of the world, there's no greatharm done. Plenty of people still talk about the coral 'insect. ' Itnever occurs to them to call an anemone an 'insect, ' but they don't knowthat the coral polyp is more like an anemone than anything else. "

"But an anemone is a soft flabby thing that waves a lot of jelly-likefingers about in the water. "

"So does coral, " was the reply, "and it eats and lives just in the sameway, only that the coral polyp has a stony skeleton and most of the seaanemones have not. But every different one has some sort of a story totell and I believe they get joy out of life just as we do. Else whyshould some of these forms be so beautiful? You note them closely whenwe pass over some of the reefs, and I should judge we are coming to themnow. "

Certainly if the coloration was any clue, the boat was coming to thegreat sea-gardens. Above the white bottom the water shone a vividemeraldine green, changing to sharply marked browns over the shoals, while beyond the inner reefs it varied from all shades of sapphire blueto radiant aquamarine. Nowhere was the water of the same color for ahundred yards together, while every ruffling of the surface, every slantof sunlight gave it a new hue. Colin was entranced and wished to seemore closely, but the boat was going too swiftly to let down a waterglass and he was forced to wait a few minutes. 

"Ah b'lieve, sah, " said Early Bird presently, hauling in the sheet, "wemight let the sail down heah. We'll drift just about fast enough fo' youto watch the bottom. "

Mr. Collier handed one of the water glasses to the boatman. It wasformed like a deep square box with a glass window for a bottom, and aspecially prepared crystal had been used. 

"That's an improvement on the old kind, Early Bird, " he said; "what doyou think of it?"

The Bermudian darky looked through the glass critically. 

"Yes, sah, " he said, "thar's no compah'son 'tween the two. The bottomlooks bettah through that glass than it does when yo' down thehyo'self. Ah used to do a little diving at one time, but the reefs nevahshowed up that cleah. It would be a big thing fo' the boats that taketourists out if they could have glasses like that one there. "

"It would be, perhaps, " the scientist said, laughing, "but they couldalmost build a boat for what one of these would cost. "

"Isn't that the most gorgeous thing you ever saw!" cried Colin, as heset his eye to the glass, which Early Bird handed him. "There's nogarden on land with such colors as that. "

"There are no flowers in the garden you're looking at, remember, " hisfriend reminded him. 

"Don't need them, " said the boy. "Look at that tall purple plant wavingto and fro. Isn't that a sea-fan?"

"Yes, " his companion answered, "that's a sea-fan, but it isn't a plant. It's a kind of coral. "

"Is it? I always thought it was a seaweed. "

"You'll be calling a sponge a plant next. See those red lumps, near thebottom of that rock? Those are sponges. "

"Now there's some real coral!" the boy cried. 

"All coral is real coral. What you are looking at is probably a form ofthe stag's horn variety, " the curator said, "and that does look morelike the coral of commerce. But everything you are looking at, nearly, is coral. These great dome-like stones, do you see them?"

"The ones that look like the pictures of a brain?"

"Yes, those are called brain-stone or brain-coral. And those others, just the same shape only with little holes, instead of grooves, that'sstar coral. "

"Then there seem to be some that look like a bouquet of flowers allstuck together. "

"That's rose coral, " was the reply, "and those are the three forms yousee more generally. "

"But where's the pink and red coral? If it's as easy to get at coral asthis, I don't see why people don't come here and make a fortune. "

"Fortunes aren't quite as easy to pick up as that. This coral has nomarket value; the variety that is used for jewelry comes mainly fromJapan and from the Mediterranean, and the governments of the variouscountries keep it under constant watch. "

"That's why. I see now. Oh!" exclaimed the boy as some fish swam underthe glass suddenly. "Just look at those angel-fish. They seem twice asbrilliant as the ones I saw in Devil's Hole. "

"Of course, " the curator said, "you would expect them to look dull indull surroundings. That is color protection. Here, everything is gailycolored and striped and streaked and dotted, so the fish are, too. Thathelps them to hide and be unnoticed. A plain-colored open sea fish couldbe easily seen. "

"Look, sah, " said Early Bird, turning to the boy, "Ah've got a littlesailoh's choice, Ah caught this morning; Ah'll throw him in and yo' cannotice how plain yo' can see him. "

He tossed the fish overboard. The silver scales shone and gleamedbrilliantly in the transparent water but Colin had barely time to noticewhat a conspicuous object it was when in a swirl of water a score ofsmall fish of all sorts surrounded the morsel. But the groupers followedhotfoot and the little fish fled. Then came retribution, for, from acrevice in a near-by rock, out shot the eel-like form of a green morayand disposed of one of the groupers in short order. 

"Did I tell you about the moray?" Colin asked, and on receiving a replyin the negative, he recounted the story he had heard in Devil's Hole. The boy rather feared that Early Bird might make light of it even if themuseum curator did not, but the darky remarked that he thought it was agood thing to let morays alone and that he had heard the story fromother sources before. In the meantime the leader of the expedition hadfound a section of the reef which appealed to him and at his requestEarly Bird put out a small kedge anchor, holding the boat fast. The windhad dropped a good deal as the morning wore on and now the littlesailing boat rocked gently over the gorgeous gardens of the sea. 

"You told me, " the museum official said, "that you were fond of drawing. Here's a sketch block and some pastel crayons; see what you can do withthem. "

Colin lifted his eyebrows in surprise, but he took the sketch block andpad, hooking his water glass to the side of the boat as directed. Hiscompanion took a large water glass of a different character. It wasright-angled with a lens at the end. In the joint of the angle was areflector which threw the image upon a mirror immediately under theeye-piece. 

"What's that for?" the boy asked. 

"So that we can look at the reefs at their own level, " was the reply. "No matter how much you allow for refraction and foreshortening, you'llfind it almost impossible to get correct values by studying a reef fromthe top only. You know how queer a place looks in a picture that hasbeen taken from an aëroplane?"

"Yes, " the boy answered. 

"That's what we've got to avoid here. We are looking down on the reefsjust as an aviator looks down on a city. This glass, however, will giveme the proper perspective. You see I have made it something like atelescope so that I can add segment after segment and watch conditionseven in fairly deep water. Now I'll show you how I'm going to manageit. "

He took the long L glass with which he was working and fastened it bylittle hooks to the direct overhead glass which Colin was using, and ashe did so the boy noticed that the two glasses were so arranged thatthey focussed at the same point of the reef, only that one viewed itfrom above, the other from the side. A little device worked by athumbscrew varied the angle in proportion to the depth. 

"Now, " he was instructed, "draw in and color--as well as you knowhow--everything you see in the field of your glass. You've got all dayto do it in, so there's no need for hurry. Remember, I don't want thecolor you think the sea-fans and other forms would be out of the water, but the color that they seem to you to be when looked at through thewater. "

"But I don't draw so awfully well, Mr. Collier, " said Colin. 

"You don't need to, " was the reply, "it's the color that I want. Thereisn't a tint known that you can't find in those pastels and I want it asexact as you can get it. I'm going to do the same thing, you see, onlyfrom the side. The light will cause a good deal of difference, and Iwant to determine just how the shadows fall. "

The boy had never had such crayons to work with and he was naturally agood colorist. He became so absorbed that he was quite unaware of thepassage of time and it was with something of a surprise that he heardthe announcement of lunch. This was due to Early Bird, who, seeing thatit was after noon, had unpacked the hamper and set out a good meal. Bothartists dined heartily and Early Bird was not forgotten when the artistsreturned to their drawings. But although Colin worked as hard as hecould, it was four o'clock before he felt that he had finished. Themuseum expert was also still at work when the sun began to fail to givea sufficiently direct light to pierce the water. Colin was eager to seehis companion's sketch, but this was denied him. 

"No, " he was told. "We're coming here to-morrow, and I want you to dowhat I was doing to-day, while I do the overhead view. "

"What's that for, Mr. Collier?" queried Colin, again. 

"No two people see color values just alike, " was the reply, "and whileof course I don't expect you to make a perfect picture, still if yourcoloring and mine agree, we are nearly sure to have exactly the rightshade. "

"But if they don't?"

"Then we have two color conceptions, and it is easy for a third personto say which looks the most real to him. Early Bird, for example, couldtell which looked the best to him, although, of course, he could notdescribe the color. "

"Then we're coming back here to-morrow?"

"If the wind is suitable, yes. "

Colin was simply aching with eagerness to see the other drawing but hadto be content with the promise that he could see it as soon as he haddone the duplicate, and not before, as he might be prejudiced thereby. Before going home that day they dropped as a marker a heavy lead diskabout six inches across, painted white, to which was attached a buoy, sothat they could find the identical place again; and the followingmorning, when they came out, the buoy was picked up without difficultyand the boat moored as before. 

The second day on the reefs was an exact counterpart of the first, except that Colin found it much more difficult to work through the Lglass. To look down at a picture which was reflected sidewise made thedrawing of it quite tricky until he caught the knack. Also, shadowsunder the water did not behave the same way as above. But, as before, the entire day was given to it, and though the boy had a headache whenevening came, he had turned out a very respectable piece of work. Thefun came in comparing them. 

"You're somewhat of an impressionist, " the curator said, as he examinedColin's two pictures carefully, "and you've succeeded in making yoursketches look more submarine than I have. But I think your perspectiveis all out. "

"I was afraid that it was, " the boy replied, "though I tried hard to getit. "

"What do you think of them, Early Bird?" the museum expert asked, "Iwon't tell you which is which. "

The boatman, who had a full share of the intelligence and alertnesscharacteristic of the Bermuda colored population, so excellentlygoverned under British rule, examined the four pictures carefully andthen said:

"Wa'al, sah, Ah think Ah like these two the best. "

He handed back Mr. Collier's drawing of the reef from the side and theboy's sketch of the reef taken from above. 

"I believe you're right, Early Bird, " the scientist said, laughing, "thelad beat me out on that one. " Then, as he put the drawings away in theportfolio he added, "And now we'll see how near we both came to theright thing. "

"How?" queried the boy. 

"We'll search a while for perfect specimens. A diver is coming alongwith us to-morrow and we're going to scour the reefs for fine specimensof coral, sea-anemones, sea-whips, black rods, purple fans, and all therest of them. Those that we can preserve we will, but the sea-anemoneswe'll have to work on in the Aquarium on Agar's Island, where they havesome magnificent specimens. "

[Illustration: THE GORGEOUS SUBMARINE WORLD. 

Golden sea-anemones, purple long-spined sea-urchins, orange-coloredsponges, and corals upon the white sea-sand. 

_Courtesy of the American Museum of Natural History, N. Y. _]

[Illustration: THE GARDENS OF THE SEA. 

Where purple sea-fans wave under the crystal water. Note the angel-fishand various forms of coral. 

_Courtesy of the American Museum of Natural History, N. Y. _]

"In glass, you mean?" queried Colin. "I should like to see how that'sdone. "

"Come to my laboratory in New York some time and I'll show you, " hiscompanion answered, "but I can't do that here. I have a speciallyprepared black paper here and I'll copy some of the anemone forms sothat I can plan them in glass from my drawings. I'll go with youto-morrow, but after that you'll have to go out alone. "

Accordingly, Colin and the diver went out with Early Bird every day fora week, Colin spending the entire day peering through the water glassfor perfect specimens, which, when sighted, the diver would descend toget. He secured an especially fine example of a long-spined black andwhite striped sea-urchin, with spines nearly seven inches in length, anumber of pale-blue starfish (an unusual color in that genus), and onesuperb sea-fan of a glowing purple color nearly five feet across. Ofsea-anemones he found a large variety, and those he brought to theaquarium, where Mr. Collier was working steadily; several kinds of"sea-puddings, " closely allied to the famous beche-de-mer--the tabledelicacy of China--also were within his discoveries. The boy's eyesightwas keen, and the collecting fever found him an easy victim, but it wasback-breaking work to stoop over the water glass all day. 

After about a week of this, however, a surprise awaited him. He noticed, as they sailed into the bay, a very handsome steam yacht lying atanchor, a sea-going craft flying the New York Yacht Club's burgee. Onhis return to the hotel Colin found his chief waiting for him, a littleimpatiently. 

"We're going to dinner on the _Golden Falcon_, " he said, as soon as hesaw the boy, "she belongs to a friend of mine. He is going down toFlorida and has offered to take us along. If I can arrange it, that willsave us at least a week's time. "

"Bully, fine!" Colin exclaimed. "Is that the yacht down there?"

"Yes. "

"She's a beauty. All right, Mr. Collier, I'll get ready just as fast asI can. And you ought to see a feather star I got to-day. It wasn't soawfully deep down either. "

"I'll see it later, " was the reply, "hurry and get ready now; I don'twant to be late going over there. Their launch is to come at half-pastsix and it is twenty after now, so that you need to move as fast as youknow how. "

"Right, sir, " answered Colin, and off he sped. 

The yacht was the finest of its kind that the boy had ever boarded andhe spent a very pleasant evening, the more so as the owner of the vesselhad his family aboard, including his son Paul, a lad almost the same ageas Colin. Mr. Murren was a wealthy capitalist, who had financed a chainof drug-stores throughout the country and still kept a large amount ofstock in them. This corporation used many thousands of sponges annually, needing moreover a high-grade article which was found difficult toprocure. It had been thought wise to investigate the question of buyinga sponge farm, and he had been asked to look into the matter. Accordingly, he was taking a run down the coast, but had come first tosee the American Vice Consul at Bermuda--to whom he was related bymarriage. 

"I heard a good deal about that sponge-farming business, " said Colin, when the other boy told him this. "Dr. Crafts told me how it wasworked. "

"All the more reason for you to join us, " his new friend responded. "Ihope you're coming. "

"I hope so, too, " Colin answered, "and it's likely enough that we will, since you say your father has been kind enough to ask us. I think Mr. Collier has nearly finished what he wanted to do in Bermuda, and if youare going straight to Florida, it would save us a lot of time, as wellas being a jolly trip in itself. "

"Going to do more coral-hunting?" the other boy queried, for Colin hadtold him about his Bermuda work. 

"A little of that, I think; but I believe Mr. Collier intends also tomake an exhibit showing the way sponges grow. So you see he is as muchinterested as your father in reviewing the sponge question. "

At this juncture Colin heard his name called. 

"Yes, Mr. Collier, " he answered. 

"Do you think you have been over most of the reef?"

"Yes, sir, I think so, " the boy answered; "Early Bird said yesterdaythat we had covered the sea-garden grounds fairly thoroughly. But, ofcourse, there are miles of reef that we haven't seen. "

"I think, Mr. Murren, " the scientist said, turning to his host, "that Ican finish up all my business here by to-morrow night and be ready for astart the following morning. If that's agreeable to you, we shall bevery glad to accept your invitation. "

"That's agreed, then, " said the capitalist, "and now we'll have somemusic. "

The trip to Florida on the _Golden Falcon_ was one of the pleasantestColin had ever known. The little craft fairly flew through the water. Heliked his host and hostess immensely, both of whom were accomplishedmusicians, and he struck up quite a friendship with Paul. Thecapitalist's son, though but a month or two younger than Colin, wasquite inclined to give the latter a little hero-worship. And it wassignificant of Colin's make-up that he was equally ready to take it. Little of note occurred on the voyage save that the yacht almost ranover a sunfish in the water, which turned a sluggish somersault anddisappeared. What was of more interest to Colin and indeed to Paul alsowas the opportunity to use a very powerful microscope belonging to themuseum curator and to find out about the almost invisible life of theocean. 

"You must remember, " the scientist told them, "that these tiny forms, which look like the most wonderful figures in a fairyland of geometry, exist in such billions that as they die, their light shells fall throughthe sea like a perpetual rain. Some of them, too, are so very light thatit takes them a month to sink to the bottom. "

"But what can such tiny bits of things live on, Mr. Collier?" askedPaul; "other animals smaller still?"

"No, my boy, " was the reply, "on plants called diatoms. There are overfour thousand species of these plants known, which are so small that themicroscopic animals readily engulf them. Where it is too cold forsurface animal life, as in the Antarctic Ocean, these dead diatoms formthe mud on the bottom of the ocean, and in the extremely deep parts, thesea-bed is red clay, but most of it is an 'ooze'--'Globigerina, ' as itis called--made up of the shells of those very creatures you have nowbeen seeing on that microscope slide. You drop in and see me at NewYork, boys, " he added kindly, "and I'll show you some models I have madeof them. "

On arrival at Key West one of the first things that impressed itselfupon Colin was the sponge wharf, where tens of thousands of sponges ofevery sort were drying in the hot September sun. The conversation hadrun upon sponges very frequently during the voyage, and Mr. Collier, whoknew the subject thoroughly from a theoretical point of view, had beenof great help to his host. But the economic and commercial side of thequestion was another matter. From this aspect Colin found that theremembrance of his conversation with Dr. Crafts in Washington stood himin good stead. 

"As I understand it, Mr. Murren, " he said, as they stood on the wharftogether, waiting for an approaching boat, "the government looks on thebusiness of growing sponges much as it does on the growing of wheat orany other form of farming, only it is called aquiculture instead ofagriculture. Sponge planting isn't so very different from potatoplanting. "

"It looks entirely different to me, " the boy's host replied, as he wentdown the wharf steps. "I'm sorry Mr. Collier was called away thisafternoon, but I may as well give a preliminary look over thissponge-farming business and you boys might as well come along. There'sa man here who wants me to buy his sponge farm. Since Mr. Collier ishere I'm not going to decide anything without his advice. He doesn'twant you this afternoon, does he?"

Colin hesitated a moment. 

"Not as far as I know, Mr. Murren, " he answered. 

"I wish you would come, then, " urged the capitalist. "You've picked upsome ideas in Washington which may be of help. "

"I'll be glad to come, if you feel I'm any use to you, " the boy replied, flattered at this evidence that he could be of service, "I was onlyafraid that I'd be in the way. "

Colin followed Paul and his father into the boat, where was waiting anegro as black as the proverbial black hat, a local fisherman who hadtaken up sponge growing, and who, while shrewd enough for a businessdeal, knew little about sponges. 

"You were saying that the Bureau of Fisheries is going to take upsponge-farming?" the prospective buyer asked. "Do you know what successthe government has had so far?"

"Enough to show that it can be done and that's about all, " the boyreplied. "Before long, I think, the Bureau will have a station down onthe Keys here and that will be one of the first questions they willprobably take up. As I heard it put, the Bureau aims to farm every acreof water as thoroughly as every acre of land. "

"That, " said the capitalist, "is an ideal that gives all sorts ofchances for development. "

Presently the boatman stopped and, resting on his oars, said:

"Lots o' sponges hyeh, boss. "

The would-be buyer took the water glass and looked through it at thebottom, but he was unaccustomed to the appearance of growing sponges andalso to the use of a water glass, so that he gained little from it. 

"I don't see any, " he said. 

"Aren't there any round liver-colored lumps, Mr. Murren?" the boy asked. 

"Yes, there are lots of those, " was the reply. 

"Those are sponges. "

"They don't look like it. "

"They are, sir, though. A skeleton doesn't ever look just like a man. The sponge, as you use it in a bath, is just an animal's skeleton, or itmay be of several animals that have grown together. "

"Yo' suah o' that, boss?" asked the boatman. "I allus hear' dat a spongewas a plant--not any animal. "

"It's an animal, " Colin said shortly. 

"But I thought, " interjected Paul, "that the difference between a plantand an animal was that an animal can move around and a plant can't. "

"Well, Paul, " the boy answered, "the young of sponges are larvć whichswim in the water by threshing with short hairs until they findsomething suitable to stick on. Lots of animals which become fixturesare free-swimming when young, oysters, for instance. "

"Then a sponge doesn't seed itself, like a plant?"

"No, Mr. Murren, " said Colin; "so far as I understand, the larvć, thoughof a very simple type, have a certain amount of choice. A seed has gotto grow where it falls, or not at all, but a sponge larva, if it doesn'tfind a suitable place on the first thing it touches, can swim aboutblindly until it finds one that will do. "

"Now about these sponges, Colin, " his host said, impressed by the boy'sclear though crude way of explaining himself, "look through the glassand tell me what you think about the bed. "

"There are quite a lot of sponges there, " the boy answered after a fewminutes' examination, "some of good size, too, but a number of them aredead. See, the sand has drifted half over them. There's too much sandand too little rock. "

"Should they have a rock bottom?" the manufacturer queried. 

"Rock am de bes', suah, " the owner of the ground put in, "but a li'l bito' san' don' do no hahm. It shows dat de wateh am runnin'. "

"Yes, " said the boy, "the boatman is right there, Mr. Murren, spongesmust be in a current after they have once taken hold. They can't swimaround to get their food, so, like all the fixed forms of life, theirfood must come to them. If there is no current there is not enough foodcarried past for them to live on. If the current is too strong thesponge has to make an extra tough skeleton to brace itself against therush of water and then it becomes too coarse for commercial use. Some ofthe polyps live on tiny animals with a lot of flint in their shells andthe skeleton gets like glass. They call them glass sponges. Conditionshave got to be just right for their development, they're a mostparticular sort of creature. "

"But how do they feed?"

"A sponge is a jelly-like colony of cells with a fibrous skeleton, " theboy explained; "the outside of him is toward the water and is full ofsmall pores which branch all through his flesh and open at last into abig pore leading to the outside. All these pores are lined with tinyhairs that make a current of water go through the jelly-like flesh, which absorbs any microscopic life there may be. The water is taken inthrough the little pores and sent out through the big ones. Some spongeforms are of one animal, most are of colonies. But they are all on thesame pattern, pumping water in and out again. "

"Then is a growing sponge all full of jelly?" asked Paul. 

"All that I have seen are, " Colin replied. 

"How do they get it out?"

"I c'n tell you 'bout that, " interjected Pete. "A sponge is all slimyan' nasty. Yo' put him in de sun an' he dies quick an' all de slime runsout. Den yo' buries him in san' 'til his insides all decay. Den you putshim in a pon' an' takes him out, an' beats him wif a stick, lots o'times oveh, maybe, 'til all de jelly an' all de san' an' all de muck amout ob him. Den yo' wash him in fresh wateh 'til he's clean an' letshim dry an' he's done. "

"But if sponges will reproduce themselves, " the capitalist said, returning to his former point, "what is the need of planting them?"

"You don't have to work that way on their own beds, sir, " the boyanswered, "planting is done to get more out of the industry, using thesea bottom in shallow waters which now is lying unused. "

"And you say only rocky land will do?"

"Any bottom that's hard enough to keep the sponge from being covered up, Mr. Murren. Soft sand will wash, mud will ooze up, and rank marine grassor seaweed will smother the young cells. But any hard bottom in warmsalt water with a current is good for sponges. "

"I see, " was the rejoinder. "As you say, the situation is not unlikefarming. You can either farm cultivated sponge land or plantuncultivated land. "

"You can get land suitable for sponges for almost nothing, I suppose, "Colin said, "and then if you had a small sponge ground you could plant alarger area from it. "

"What do you think of this ground?"

The boy hesitated. 

"I hardly think I know enough about it to say, Mr. Murren, " he said;"you ought to get an expert. "

"I'll get an expert before I pay cash, " was the prompt answer, "but Iwant to know what you think. "

"Well, then, sir, " Colin answered, "I think it's good ground, but notgood enough. "

"Ah got a betteh one than this hyeh, boss, " put in the boatman, "it'smah brotheh's, but he might be willin' to sell. Costs mo' than mine, though. "

"Take us there, " ordered the capitalist. 

The boatman took to his oars with a will, but it was a long pull, almostan hour elapsing before he stopped, wiped his forehead on his arms, andsaid, as before:

"Lots o' sponges hyeh, boss. "

At a nod from the prospective buyer, Colin took the water glass andwatched the bottom carefully as the boatman rowed slowly over it. Howthe boy wished for the lenses in the glasses belonging to Mr. Collierwhich he had used in Bermuda! But still, though the afternoon wasdrawing on and the sun did not strike the water at the right angle, Colin could see that it was unusually fine sponge ground. 

[Illustration: YOUNG SPONGE ATTACHED TO CEMENT DISK, READY FOR PLANTING. (Actual size. )

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

[Illustration: SHEEPSWOOL SPONGE GROWN FROM SMALL PIECE AS ABOVE, 48MONTHS OLD, SIX INCHES ACROSS. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Yes, " he said, "that's more like. "

Mr. Murren looked about him. 

"How in the world do you know, Pete, " he said to the boatman, "that thisis your ground or anybody else's? I don't see any stakes or evidences ofownership. "

"If Ah starts to haul up sponges on somebody else's groun' he'll come upand make me get off, suah, " replied the boatman. 

"But suppose he doesn't see you. "

The boatman grinned. 

"Dat certainly am his own lookout, boss, " he said. 

"What a cut-throat game, " ejaculated the would-be buyer. "If a manbought a place he'd have to watch it all the time, then?"

"Suah, sah. "

"Thank you, " was the reply, "I'll take some place in shallow water whereI can build a house and hire some fellow to watch it and work it. "

"Ain' no trouble hyeh, " the boatman said, shrugging his shoulders, "ev'body wo'k his own patch. "

"But how do you get the sponges?" was the query. "You have to dive forthem, don't you?"

The boatman shook his head. 

"Sometimes, if de wateh's mo' than fifty feet deep. Not of'en. See, Ahshow you. "

He reached under the forward thwart and pulled out a light three-prongedhook and fitted it to a jointed pole, screwing the two sections togetherso that it made one long pole of about twenty-four feet in length. Hetook the water glass and rowed the boat until it was directly over asponge. 

"Yo' all keep de boat dere a li'l while, " he said to Colin, and the ladtook the oars. 

Then very deftly the boatman pushed the long unwieldy pole into thewater and nicked a sponge from the bed, bringing it up intact. Onreaching the surface it was seen to be slimy and with a milky fluiddripping from the bottom. 

"That's a ripe sponge, you see, Mr. Murren, " the boy said, pointing tothe milky fluid; "the slimy stuff that's dropping is full of germs ofyoung sponges all ready to grow and swim and fix to something and thenbecome proper sponges. "

"That may be a sponge, " said the prospective buyer, "but it looks morelike a piece of liver. "

"Fine sponge, sah, --good yellow sponge, " the boatman said, and Colindid not know enough either to affirm or deny. 

"Now, Ah show yo' sheepswool sponge, quite diff'nt, " the boatman said, and taking up his water glass he leaned over the edge. 

Just as he did so, both Colin and his companion gave a cry. 

"Sharks!"

The boatman looked around contemptuously. 

"Nu'sing shahks, " he said, "sleep all de time. " He splashed his hand inthe water and the sharks fled in all directions. 

"You wouldn't feel that way if you had been in the water, " hazarded thecapitalist. 

"Ah done ride on 'em, " was the reply. "Lots o' boys 'round dese hyehreefs think it fun to steal up ove' a lot o' nu'sing shahks, an' dendive down an' take a ride. Dey wouldn't bite nothin' biggeh than asahdine. "

"But you have got dangerous sharks here?"

"Yes, sah, you bet, " the boatman answered; "dey was one ol' white shahkwas a holy terror; he use' to show up hyeh reg'lah once a monf. Folks dosay he eat up fo' men at diff'rent times. "

"I thought Mr. Collier told us that those shark stories wereexaggerated, " said Paul, turning to Colin. "I didn't think so, now yousee, they weren't. "

"Oh, I guess the white shark is the real thing, all right, " Colinanswered. "Some fishermen found a fair-sized young sea lion almost wholein a shark's stomach about three years ago. "

"That must have been the fish that swallowed Jonah, " suggested Paul. 

"He could have done it all right, " the other boy agreed, "and he isabout the only fish that could. "

"There might be some in the bottom of the sea!"

"I don't think so, Paul. Mr. Collier told me on the steamer that in thevery deepest parts of the ocean there were no fish, only worms andsea-cucumbers and things like that. "

"If you'll listen a minute, sah, " said the boatman, "yo'll heah somefin'wo'se than eveh come from de bottom ob de sea. "

"Worse?"

"Worse!"

The two exclamations rang like one as the two boys strained intoattention. They listened intently and then across the water came awhisking rushing sound followed by a deep 'boom' and a distant splash. It was several moments, too, before the swell from that splash reachedthe boat; when it did, the craft rocked noticeably. 

"What is that?" asked Colin. 

"Vampa, sah, " answered the boatman, as he took his oars and started torow away in the opposite direction. 

"Hold on a bit there, " the sponge-buyer said, "I never saw a vampire. What does it look like?"

"Some calls 'em sea-bat or devil-ray, " was the reply, "an' the'retwenty, thirty feet 'cross sometimes. They looks lak a sting ray. Ahdon' wan' to see 'em. "

"Isn't that a harpoon down there in the boat?" the capitalist askedcalmly. 

"Yes, sah, oh, yes, sah, but Lordy, sah, yo' can' do nuffin wif a seavampa. No, sah. Why, jes' oveh yondah dey was a big schooneh towed outto sea by a vampa. "

"A schooner?"

"Yes, sah, a seven'y-ton schooneh. Yes, sah. He mus' ha' been a bigfellah an' goin' swimmin' along he struck de anchoh chain wif his hohns. It made him mad, right mad, it did, an' he jes' heave up dat hyeh anchohan' toted it off to sea, draggin' de ship wif him. "

The owner of the _Golden Falcon_ laughed. 

"Can you beat that? That's the worst fish story I've heard, Colin. Youtell some good ones, too!"

"It's an old story, " the boy answered, "and I believe it's true. Theyhave often run away with boats. "

The capitalist took off his coat and rolled up his sleeves. 

"I've harpooned dozens of porpoises from the _Falcon_, " he said, "but Inever had a chance at a sea vampire. This begins to look interesting. "

"The devil ray, or manta as it is often called, will give you a run foryour money, " said Colin, "and after all we can cut the line. "

"We'll not cut any line, " was the response. "Now, Pete, get after him. "

But the negro fairly blubbered in terror. 

"Lordy, lordy, " he cried, "an' what yo' goin' t' do to a po' ol' niggeh. Ah'll do an'thin' yo' say, Ah'll tell yo' de troof about de spongefahms, an'thin', onl' don' go afteh dat vampa. "

"You'll tell me the truth about the sponge farms, eh?" the prospectivebuyer remarked sternly. "So you were trying to put up a crooked deal. I'll attend to you when we get ashore. Now you row after that 'vampa, 'as you call it, and as quick as you know how. "

The negro was about to refuse, but he did not dare. 

"Oh, Lordy, boss, " he cried, "don' go any neaheh. Yas, sah, yas, sah, "he added as he saw the yachtsman make a move towards him, "yas, sah, Ah'll row. But we all gwine to be smoddehed alive. Ah jes' knows it. "

Again, close at hand, came the swish and the dull 'boom, ' and the negroshivered. Colin was conscious that his heart was pounding a little andhe caught himself wishing that it were the middle of the day instead ofevening. Then out of the water not ten feet from the boat a darkwitch-like specter swooped into the sky, black, horned, with bat-likewings and a long naked tail like a gigantic rat. 

Pete gave a squeal of fright. 

The monster rose till he was almost three feet clear of the surface, then turned so as to strike the water absolutely flat, and just beforethe crash and splash of the fall, Murren hurled the harpoon into thefish, and sprang back to clear the line. Although drenched and gaspingfrom the torrent of water thrown over the boat by the devil ray, Colintook a bight of the line from the second coil and passed it around theforemost thwart. He was just in time, for a few seconds later the ropetautened. There was just one jerk and the boat started flying throughthe water, sending up a green wall on either side that threatened toswamp it every instant. 

With the fight really begun, Colin became at once quite calm. Paul, whowas an absolutely fearless youngster, was laughing in glee. 

"Which way are we going, Pete?" asked the capitalist. 

"Lordy, Lordy, don' as' me; gwine to de bottom, boss. Ah knows we'hegwine to de bottom. "

The negro crouched down in the bottom of the boat, and the sponge buyerroared at him:

"Sit up and watch where we're going, you coward! You know these reefs. "

"It don' matteh, boss, de vampa tuhn roun' in a minute an' jump on deboat an' smoddeh we all. "

It was not a pleasant suggestion. The ray was undoubtedly big enough todo that very thing, and everybody in the boat had seen its power toleap. But even the little study that Colin had given to fishes came tohis aid. 

"All rays live on shellfish, " he said, "and they have small mouths withplates instead of teeth to crush the shells with. So that it reallycouldn't do us any harm, any way. "

"It's de smoddehin', boss, de smoddehin'. Oh, why did Ah try an' maketrouble ober dem durn sponge beds? Ef Ah eber gets on sho' again Ah'llbe a betteh man. Lordy, Lordy, what am Ah gwine to do?"

His voice rose in a shriek. 

"He's a-comin' now!"

The pointed fin jerked suddenly and a third of the gigantic shape heaveditself into the air as the devil ray whirled. There was an instant ofsuspense, but the giant went past, one huge fin beating the air like thewaving of some uncanny monstrous moth born in the terrors of anightmare, and the boat was wrenched around sharply, half filling it andalmost throwing Colin out. 

Over almost exactly the same course that he had taken, the ray racedback, the weight of the boat seeming to make no difference to its speed;and then a second time the creature turned. It seemed impossible thatwith a speed of not less than twenty miles an hour so huge acreature--the size of one side of a tennis court--could twist about inits own length. How the rope and the frame of the boat stood the strainno one ever knew. 

Once more the vampire turned; the boat nearly went over, but she was astaunch little craft, and the fish started down the lagoon between thereefs at its top speed. Often the creature put its two horn-liketentacles down for a dive, but the water was everywhere shallow andthere was no chance to drag the boat under. 

"It doesn't seem to be tiring much, " the capitalist remarked, "but Idon't see what more we can do. "

"No, " Colin answered, "I don't think the ray feels our weight at all. Ibelieve it's going faster. "

"We's all gwine to de bottom, " wailed the negro. "Lordy, Ah been a badman, but ef Ah ebeh gets mah two feet asho' Ah'll nebeh do nuffinagain!"

There was no doubt of it, the vampire was going faster and faster everyminute. The line hissed as it cut through the water, and Pete, despitehis moaning, was baling for dear life. Darkness was closing in and theray sped on. On either side were reefs, and many times the boat grazedsharp coral which would have ripped the bottom out of her if she hadstruck. Mr. Murren stood by the bow with knife in hand ready to cut, waiting to the last minute. 

Presently a line of breakers, between two islets, appeared directlyahead. It was only a matter of seconds till they would be reached, butremembering how the ray had turned before, Colin clutched the gunwale ofthe boat to prevent being flung out of it like a stone from a catapultwhen the creature swerved. 

"It's a-comin', now!" shrieked Pete. "We's a-gwine to be smoddehed. Oh, Lordy, Lordy, Ah's a dead niggeh. "

"Hold on tight, all, look out for yourself, Paul, " Mr. Murren cried;"he's turning!"

But he was wrong. 

Instead of the black fin edging its way up, the whole great bulk of theuncanny creature heaved itself above the water like a great cloud andfell into the surf on the rocks, flapped upon them, although halfstranded, and with a heave that seemed to make the reef tremble, plungedinto the sea beyond. 

"Better cut!" cried Colin. 

But before the word was fairly out of his lips, the bright steelgleamed in the dark, and with a grinding crash that seemed like the endof the world to Colin, the boat crumpled into splinters on the reef andthe three men were thrown in a heap among the breakers. 

The negro gave a yell that was enough to scare any one out of a year'sgrowth and lay spread out upon a rock as though he was some ungainlykind of black crab, arms and legs in every direction, while he fairlygibbered with fright. 

"Lordy, Lordy, don' let de debbil come an' take me now! Lordy, Ah ain'fit to die! Don' let him come back an' smoddeh us on de rocks! Ah ain'never goin' to get in a boat agen! On'y let me get home dis once!"

Paul, though the youngest of the party, had escaped the most easily. Hehad pitched clear against Pete and thus had broken his fall, while atthe same time the impact of his weight had knocked nearly all the breathout of the negro's body. He had enough left, however, with which to makea powerful complaint. 

Bruised, even bleeding in one or two places, Colin picked himself out ofthe wreckage and looked across in the faint light at the owner of the_Golden Falcon_, who seemed to have escaped with a few scratches andwho was standing on the reef looking out to sea as though he wished thatthe fight were still on. 

[Illustration: MANTA, OR GIANT SEA-DEVIL, CAPTURED ON THE FLORIDA REEFS. 

_By permission of Mr. Chas. Fredk. Holder. _]

"I wonder, " he said, as he saw that the boys were not hurt, "if thevampire had as much sport out of that as we did. "

CHAPTER VIII

FINDING A FORTUNE IN A PEARL

Resisting a strong temptation to kick the blubbering negro, Mr. Murrensucceeded in getting the fellow's attention by shouting in his ear, andyanked him up on his feet. The boat was quite unusable, the bow havingbeen crumpled into matchwood by the force with which the sea-bat haddragged it upon the reef, so the question of reaching the shore was notan easy one. However, Pete knew the keys thoroughly and, in response tomuch questioning, admitted that it was possible with only a short swimhere and there, to reach a lighthouse about four miles away. 

The negro would have preferred to stay on the reef until morning, for hecould sleep as easily on the sand as in a bed, but Mr. Murren knew thatthe two boys were not inured to hardship, Paul especially, and hecompelled the boatman to show the way. It was a toilsome but notparticularly dangerous journey, and when they reached the lighthouse, and had done full justice to a quickly-prepared meal, they were quitewilling, as Paul declared, to tackle another sea-bat. There was a smallmotor-boat owned by the lighthouse-keeper, and the party borrowed this, reaching the _Golden Falcon_ without further misadventure, thecapitalist recompensing the cowardly negro for the loss of his boat. 

Owing to the thorough work that had been done at Bermuda, and having theassistance of his capitalist friend, Mr. Collier speedily secured thespecimens and the drawings he needed of the Florida reefs. He kept Colinhustling, but found time to enter into the question of the proposedsponge-farm with a great deal of interest, and went with a party toAnclote Key, where the Bureau of Fisheries had established a station forthe investigation of the sponge industry, with especial regard to thetransplanting of sponges. The government expert welcomed them heartily, and an arrangement was entered into whereby the Bureau accepted Mr. Murren's offer to use for its experiments a part of such sponge-groundas he should acquire, while he, at the same time, had the benefit of theadvice of the investigators. 

"It seems to me, " the capitalist said, when the details had beenconcluded, "that's about the best kind of investment I know, gettingexpert opinion for yourself in such a way that it benefits the wholenation. "

"It is, I think, " the Fisheries official replied; "but you can't alwaysget people to realize that. Why, even the State governments in manycases are not always ready to co-operate, and only last year theAssembly of a certain State refused to permit the establishment of ahatchery, because a relative of one of the assemblymen owned a summerhotel in the district, and he thought it might reduce the number of fishin a lake near the hotel. "

"How absurd!"

"Of course, it's absurd, but it's amazing how often that sort of thinghappens. Still, even State governments are becoming more intelligentnow, and some, like Rhode Island, for instance, have been in the veryforefront of Fishery administration. "

"Yet it means money in the pockets of the people to conserve fish!"

"But also it means a certain small outgo from the Assembly, " was thereply; "there's the rub. But, " he added, turning to Colin, for the boyhad told him of his plans, "by the time you're through college and onthe permanent rolls of the Bureau that sort of ignorance about the valueof Fisheries control will probably all have passed away. "

"I hope so, " the boy answered, "and I'm glad that I haven't seenanything except hearty support. Going to Brown University, of course, isa whole lot in my favor, because I understand they've always been strongon the Fisheries side. "

"You're going to leave us to-night, then, Colin?" asked his host. 

"Yes, Mr. Murren, " the boy replied; "by taking the evening train, I canget to Providence in time for the opening of college, and Mr. Collier iskind enough to let me start right away. I can't be grateful enough toyou, sir, for all your kindness on this trip. "

"That's all right, " his friend said heartily, "I've enjoyed having you, and so has Paul, I know. I shall hear from you occasionally, I hope, andmaybe the _Golden Falcon_ will have you on board for some other trip. "

"Thank you ever so much, sir, " Colin answered; "but I guess I'm bookedfor college steadily until next summer, and the Bureau of Fisheriesduring vacation. "

But Colin was mistaken in his idea that almost a year would elapsebefore he was busy again with Fisheries work, for shortly before the endof his first term, he received a letter from his father in which thesuggestion was made that the boy should spend a week on the Great Lakesduring the Christmas vacation, to get an idea of what winter work waslike. Colin smiled as he read the letter, for he knew well that he was'in for it, ' since his father would make him go through every step ofthe training. 

Accordingly, one cold day, he found himself aboard the steamer _Mary N. Lewis_, which had been chartered by the Bureau for a couple of weeks'trawling in Lake Michigan. A bitter wind was blowing and lumps of icefloated near the shores. The whitefish were not plentiful that winter, and when the nets came up and Colin had to pick fish out, b-r-r-r, butit was cold! A great many of the fish were not ripe for spawning and hadto be thrown back again, which delayed matters greatly and kept theparty on the water for several days. 

Frequently Colin's lips were blue and his fingers numb, while his earsand cheekbones and chin felt as though they were being sliced offgradually by the blasts blowing down from icy Canada, but he knew that, to a certain extent, he was on trial, and he laughed and joked andmanaged to keep his spirits up, though his teeth chattered. There was nogreat amount of excitement in catching the whitefish and securing thespawn for development in the hatchery, but it was a test of endurance, and incidentally the boy learned much about the fishes of the GreatLakes. 

"There's one thing I don't quite see, though, " he said one day to thegovernment fish culturist, with whom he was working; "and that is, whywe need to do this. "

"How do you mean, Dare?"

"Well, in the West, they hatch young salmon because the old salmon arecaught going up the river before they spawn, and they die, anyway; buthere they have all the room they want for spawning, and I should thinkNature would look after it. "

"You don't want to forget, " the fish culturist replied, "that Nature isvery exact. Everything has to balance. The whitefish born are ten timesas many as those that mature, but the number that matures is justprecisely enough to keep the supply going. "

"I see that, all right, " the boy answered. 

"Well, then, if you disturb this balance by extensive fishing, isn't iteasy to see that you've got to make up for it somewhere? We don't haveto worry over keeping up the supply of catfish, for example, becauseNature is being left alone, and she has worked the problem out. But ifsuddenly a big catfish market developed--as it easily might, because, inspite of popular opinion, catfish is good eating--and if thousands ofthem were caught, it would be necessary to find some way to help Naturein keeping up the supply. 

"Now, the whitefish, " he continued, "isn't like the salmon, which spawnscarefully. The lake fish does that in a sort of hit-or-miss manner, withthe result that only a small percentage of the eggs get a fair start. Itis not difficult for us to put hundreds of millions of young fish intothe lakes every year, and the proportion of these that survive will notmerely keep the supply constant, but will even increase it. "

"Then that will disturb the balance in another way?"

"Yes, " was the reply, "but it will be at the expense of other specieswhich are of no use to man. Nature is like the proverbial Irishman, shecan't be drove, but she's mighty easy to lead. When you return to theuniversity, get hold of some books on the means by which all the variouskinds of living creatures in the world are kept on an even balance, howthey all get their food, and how every tiny speck fits into the wholeworld scheme. You'll find that sort of reading has more grip to it thanany novel--except, perhaps, those of a few of the really great writers, of whom there are some in every age. "

[Illustration: WINTER ON THE GREAT LAKES, STRIPPING LAKE-TROUT. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

[Illustration: WINTER WORK ON INLAND STREAMS, PLANTING TROUT FRY INICE-COVERED RIVERS. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"I found that out, " answered Colin, "when I was working with Mr. Collier. He was always saying that things were 'so much worth while, 'and when he started to explain them, they certainly were! It's just likethis, I've only seen a little bit of this inland water work, but youhandle other species beside whitefish in this work on the Great Lakes, don't you?"

"Yes, " was the culturist's reply; "lake trout and pike perch amongothers. One station alone has handled seventy-one million trout eggs ina season. But the pike perch is a more difficult fish to propagateartificially, though nearly half a million eggs were distributed lastyear. We gave Canada six million pike perch fry. There's no wastedenergy in the Bureau of Fisheries, it's practical all the way through, and you're learning to see it from the right angle--doing the work andseeing the results. "

It was this personal contact with the fish-culture work, this directdemonstration of the money value to the country of scientific knowledge, which became Colin's stimulus. His college-mates outdistanced him inmany studies, for the boy was not at heart of a scholarly type, but inhis scientific work he was far in advance of them all. Seeing hisinterest and his perseverance, several of the professors and instructorsin the scientific department took a liking to Colin, and the lad wassure to be found on every kind of field expedition for which he waseligible. He was quite an athlete, too, but he settled down to swimmingas his share in the athletic work of the university. Already quite athome in the water, he worked at improving his stroke with such energy, and was in the tank so much, that before the end of his freshman year, he was by long odds the best swimmer in the college. With his devotionto fish and his prowess in the water, it was a common saying that"Dare's growing fins!" and the college paper took to calling him "Fins, "a nickname which stuck to him ever after. 

As he had intimated to his father long before, Colin was especiallyanxious to go to Woods Hole, the great marine station of the Bureau ofFisheries, situated on the southwestern corner of Cape Cod, and the mostfamous marine biological laboratory in the New World. The work of theFisheries appealed to him a great deal more when it bore a relation tothe sea, rather than to rivers and inland waters, and his applicationfor a position on the summer force at Woods Hole had been sent toheadquarters shortly after the New Year. Accordingly, just as soon asthe term was over, he hurried to Washington. 

Disappointment awaited him. His heart had been set on that especialfeature of the work, but when he asked Dr. Crafts about it, the DeputyCommissioner shook his head. 

"I have thought the matter over, " he said, "and if you are equallyanxious next year to go to Woods Hole you shall go. But this season I'mgoing to send you to the Mississippi to do some work on mussels. "

"Very well, sir, " Colin answered, his expression betraying his regrets, but his will determining that he would make no seeming complaint. "Iwish I'd known this winter, and I would have given more attention to themollusks. "

The Deputy Commissioner, who had friends in Brown University, had heardindirectly once or twice about Colin, and smiled to himself. He waspleased by the lad's self-control, and continued:

"The mussel question is of a great deal more interest than you think. I'm not sure, of course, but there are signs of a pearl-fever, and ifthere is one, you'll certainly see something doing. The Mississippi andOhio were like a Klondike in 1903!"

"What is a 'pearl-fever, ' Dr. Crafts?" asked the boy. 

"A silly infatuation that seems to strike the farmers of the rivervalleys every few years on hearing that a valuable pearl has been foundin a mussel. The get-rich-quick hope is very general, and it seems somuch easier to dredge mussels and open them until a fortune is found inone than it does to farm for a living. In 1903, thousands upon thousandsof farms were deserted or sold for next to nothing by people whobelieved that within a week they could be made millionaires by thepearls they would find in Mississippi River mussels. "

"But I thought pearls came from oysters!" exclaimed Colin in surprise. 

"So they do, but they come from mussels, as well, and clamsoccasionally. But you ought to remember, " the Deputy Commissionercontinued, "that the finding of an occasional pearl in an oyster or amussel is of comparatively little importance, because it's an irregularsort of thing. The mother-of-pearl industry, however, is of bigimportance, it has an economic value to the country, and consequentlyit's our business to see that the natural resources are as wisely usedas possible. We'll start a party out there on June fifteenth, so you canreport here by that time. "

"But, sir----"

"Well?"

"That's three weeks away!"

"Is that too long to wait? I'm afraid you'll have to learn patience, Colin; that's as important as any knowledge of fish culture. "

"But I was wondering, Dr. Crafts, " the boy urged, "if I had three weeksto spend, why I couldn't go down to Beaufort?"

"What for?"

"One of my instructors in biology is there, " Colin said. "I believe theBureau gave him table-room in the laboratory there for some work onturtles, and he said I could help him if you were willing to have mego. I didn't say anything about it, because I wanted to go to Woods Holeright away, but if I have this time to spare, don't you think I ought touse it?"

"I think you ought to use it for a holiday, " the Deputy Commissioneranswered. 

"But I'd rather be doing something!" protested Colin. 

"Perhaps, " was the firm reply; "but not necessarily at Beaufort. Asidefrom the hatching of diamond-back terrapin, there's nothing going onthere in which you could be of any service. Besides, you'll get 'stale'unless you have a vacation. 'All work and no play, ' you know. "

Colin was eager to urge the Deputy Commissioner, but he could see itwould be useless. 

"I'd read up on turtles, too!" he returned in a disappointed tone. 

"H'm--by your instructor you mean Mr. Lark, do you not?"

"Yes, sir. "

"Look here, Colin, " said the Deputy Commissioner, "since you havepractically joined the Bureau by our promise to accept you if you makegood, don't forget that we are after results first. I've been a boymyself, and I think I can see what you're driving at. I suppose Larkhas been telling you some of his stories about riding diving turtles. "

"Yes, Dr. Crafts, " the boy replied; "he told me a lot about it. "

"I thought so, " was the reply. "I remember some magazine articles hedid. And I suppose you thought you wanted to take a ride?"

"I'm a good swimmer, sir, " Colin answered a little proudly. 

"You mean you can swim, " the Deputy Commissioner responded a littlesharply, for being modest himself, he disliked any appearance ofboasting. 

"Yes, sir, " the boy said; "that was what I meant. "

"Well, there's no turtle-riding at Beaufort. If you knew a little moreabout these subjects, you wouldn't make such breaks, whether you havebeen reading up on them or not. The leather turtle, the big one on whichmen dive by holding on to the shell, is an aquatic species and nevercomes into brackish water. The terrapin lives in the mud, and is only tobe found in marshy places. If you want to go turtle-riding for yourvacation, why, go ahead, no one's going to stop you, but you can hardlydo that while officially or even unofficially acting as an assistant atBeaufort. It's almost as far from Beaufort to the Florida Keys as it isfrom here to Hudson's Bay. "

"I hadn't realized that, sir, " Colin answered, surprised. 

"Very few people do, " was the reply. "Why, the State of Florida alone isas long as the distance from New York to Nova Scotia, or Washington toDetroit. You can't go after leather-turtle from Beaufort unless you'vegot--not seven-leagued boots, but seven-leagued fins. "

"I'm sorry I bothered you about it, Dr. Crafts, " the boy answered. "Ireally hadn't given the distances much thought. "

"Wait a bit, " said the Deputy Commissioner, as the boy turned to go. "Idon't want you to feel badly about your summer. What do you know aboutmussels?"

"Very little, sir, " the boy answered; "hardly anything. "

"Let me tell you a story about them, " the Deputy Commissioner said, smiling as the boy's face lighted up at the word "story. " "Seven oreight centuries ago, " his friend began--"that is, if you want to hearit?"

"Oh, yes, sir, " came the reply. 

"That's a long way back--a small trading-vessel was wrecked in the Bayof Biscay on the west coast of France, near the little village ofEsnandes. All hands were lost except one sailor, an Irishman, calledWalton. "

"Sure to be an Irishman who got ashore, " commented the boy. 

"This was a particularly ingenious son of Erin, " the other continued. "Although he did not speak a word of French, with the likeableness thatseems to have been the chief note of the Irish character then, and whichthey have never lost, Walton speedily became popular in the littleFrench village. This was the more remarkable, as there was a greatscarcity of food in the village, the inhabitants depending entirely onfishing, and the fishing-grounds having become worked out. Hence thepresence of a stranger for whom to provide food became a seriousproblem. 

"But the Irish had not been the teachers and scholars of Europe duringthe five preceding centuries for nothing, and though Walton was but asailor, he shared the quick-wittedness of his race. He had heardsomewhere that people often starved in the midst of plenty, and hestarted exploring for food on his own account. The village was builtnear a wide stretch of mud, which was covered by the sea at high tide, but dry when the water went down, and he noticed that numbers of land-and sea-birds were in the habit of skimming over the mud at low tide, apparently picking up worms. 

"Birds could be eaten, he thought. Accordingly, patching together allthe old bits of net that could be found and mending the holes, theIrishman made a huge net two or three hundred yards long. Then he drovea number of stakes into the mud, working almost night and day, andstretched the net vertically about ten feet above the mud. The net wasmade something like a fish-trap, so that birds flying under would findit difficult to get out. On the very first night the net was spread, hecaught enough birds to feed the village for a week. "

"Bully for him!" cried Colin. 

"That was only the beginning, " the Deputy Commissioner continued. "Theingenious stranger now began to consider what food it was that attractedthese birds, and to his surprise, instead of worms, found that theylived on an unknown black shellfish, now called mussels. If the birdsate mussels and the birds were good to eat, Walton reasoned that musselsmust be fit for food. He ate some in order to find out. "

"That's the real scientific spirit, " said Colin, laughing. 

"He was Irish and willing to take a chance, " was the smiling rejoinder. "However that may be, he not only found that they were good to eat, butthat they were good eating. He had hard work to persuade the villagersto his point of view, although his success with the birds had made him asort of hero. Soon, however, mussels came to be in great demand. ThenWalton noticed that young mussels in great numbers were gathering on thesubmerged stakes of his net, and being prolific of ideas, he promptlyhad several hundred more stakes cut and driven into the mud. He found, then, that mussels thus suspended over the mud grew fatter and of betterflavor, and accordingly designed frames with interlacing branches whichcollected them by hundreds. This system, known as the 'buchot' system, has been practiced continuously at the village of Esnandes during allthe centuries since that time, and the income to the little village lastyear was over one hundred and twelve thousand dollars as a result ofthe ingenuity of the castaway Irishman. "

"Then mussels are fit for food, " Colin said in surprise. "I thought theywere only used for bait. "

"Mussels, sea-mussels that is, are as good a food as clams, --some peopleclaim that they are better, --and they have just about three times asmuch food value as the oyster. That's why I told you the story. Weexpect to make the mussel industry as important as the clam fishery, giving employment to thousands of people and establishing what ispractically a new food supply in the United States, although it iscommon throughout the shore countries of Europe. "

"But the pearl mussels, " queried Colin, "can you eat those, too?"

"It is doubtful, " was the reply, "but their value lies so largely intheir use for mother-of-pearl in the button industry, that their foodvalue would be of only secondary importance, unless they could bepickled or canned, as is done sometimes with the sea-mussels. But, Colin, " he added, "if you think that the mussel doesn't sound aninteresting subject, let me tell you that I think it is, in itself, oneof the most interesting creatures in the water. Its life history isastounding, and there are scores of problems yet to be worked out. Readthis, " he added, handing the lad a Bulletin of the Bureau; "it has onlyjust come out, and if I have judged you rightly, you'll come here onJune fifteenth so eager to get to a mussel-bed that there will be noholding you!"

[Illustration: CLAMMING ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

[Illustration: BARGE-LOADS OF MUSSELS FOR THE MOTHER-OF-PEARL INDUSTRY. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

Two hours later, the Deputy Commissioner, leaving the office for theday, started on his walk home, going through the park in the directionof the Smithsonian Museum. On his way he was surprised to see Colinsitting on a bench near the Fisheries Building, absolutely engrossed ina gray, paper-covered folio. Dr. Crafts recognized it as the Bulletin hehad given the lad early in the afternoon, and he laughed aloud at theboyish impatience which had made it impossible for Colin even to waituntil he got the book home. The Deputy Commissioner had to speak twicebefore he was heard. 

"Well, Colin, " he said, "are you learning it off by heart?"

The boy jumped up as soon as he saw his friend, fairly stuttering withall the questions he wanted to ask. 

"I've got to go home, " the Deputy Commissioner said, when Colin stoppedto take breath; "and you've put queries enough to keep a staff of menanswering for a week! Didn't I tell you that there's a world of work tobe done over the mussel? But if you like to walk along, why, I'll tellyou anything I can. "

"Thanks, ever so much, " the boy said; "but what puzzles me in thisBulletin is the mussel's marsupium, or pouch. Has a fresh-water musselreally got a pouch like a kangaroo?"

The Deputy Commissioner pushed his hat back over his forehead. 

"Colin, " he said, "you have a knack of putting questions in the mostawkward fashion. I suppose, in a way, the answer is 'not quite, ' becausein the kangaroo, the baby is almost completely formed when it is placedin the pouch, while in the mussel, only the egg goes there. The word'marsupium' was what threw you off. What really happens is that the eggpasses into this pouch or pocket in the gills, and is there fertilizedas the current of water flows in and out over the gills. "

"And it stays there until it has a shell of its own, doesn't it?" askedthe boy. 

"It does, " was the reply. 

"Well, " said the eager questioner, "if it has a shell and is able tolook out for itself, why doesn't it? Yet the book says that it alwaysattacks a fish and lives as a parasite for a while. "

"It doesn't attack a fish, Colin, " the other answered; "it only fastenson to one. Besides which, although the mussel has a shell, it isn't ableto look out for itself. There is a change of form while it is fastenedto the fish. "

"But doesn't it hurt the fish?"

"Not permanently. It causes a local sore or a cyst, like the tiniestkind of a blister, in the middle of which the larva of the mussel issafely curled up and stays there until fully developed. Then the cystbreaks, the mussel drops out, and the tiny wound heals rapidly. Even asmall fish, four inches in length, can carry five hundred of theselittle creatures on its fins and in its gills without serious injury. "

"Suppose it can't find a fish?"

"That's the end of the mussel, then! There is one kind of mussel thatdevelops without going through the parasite stage, but it is not ascommon as the others. Curiously enough, the only way to raise the musselartificially is by means of parasitism on the fish. As you read there, it is a simple matter to get these tiny creatures from the 'pouch' ofthe mother mussel, put them in an aquarium with some fish, and keep thewater stirred up. In a few minutes the larvć will have fastenedthemselves on. It is wise to keep these fish in a hatchery for a monthor so and then simply release them; when the mussels are ready they willdrop off, and a new crop of mussels is on the way. By this means you canstart them without much trouble in rivers and streams where there werenone before, so that you see what chances there are for the developmentof the industry. "

"Are all mussels equally good for making mother-of-pearl?"

"No, " was the reply. "There are two chief commercial varieties, ofdifferent species, one larva having a hook on the shell, so that it canattach to fins or tail, the other being smaller and without hooks andmaking its way into the gills. But you'll go into all that when you getto Fairport, and even after you have worked at mussels all summer therewill be a lot of problems you won't have touched. Don't forget now, thefifteenth. "

"Never fear, Dr. Crafts, " Colin answered; "I won't forget. I wish itwere here now. "

Time did not hang heavily on the boy's hands, for he was interested inall phases of fishing, and spent a couple of weeks on a trout stream inNorthern Maine, not only catching the fish, but--as he had beenadvised--making notes of any peculiarities he saw in those he caught. Many stories had been told him of the finding of new species by younginvestigators, and he was amazed to see what wide differences existed infish of the same species. 

Colin examined so carefully every one he caught, that he began to thinkthat if the fish were thrown back into the stream and hooked out again, he could recognize each one of them. His eagerness to be at work reachedboiling point when a newspaper arrived at the camp with a brief itemtelling of the excitement caused by the finding of pearls near Fairport. Fortunately, it was only a day or two before the date set for hisdeparture, and Colin was on the point of starting for Washington, whenhe received a letter ordering him to his post on the Mississippiimmediately. He took the next train, and reported two days later at thehatchery. 

"Are you coming for any special line of work?" the superintendent askedhim. "I was informed from Washington that you were coming, but nothingwas said as to the nature of your duties. "

"Nothing more than that Dr. Crafts said I should probably be working onmussels, sir, " the boy answered. "I was just told to report. "

"The Deputy Commissioner states, " the superintendent continued, lookingover the letter, "that you expect to join the Bureau permanently, andthat you have been doing some work at college on fishes. "

"I haven't done very much, as yet, sir. "

"I suppose not. But I want to find out what you know about mussels. "

This put the boy on his mettle. 

Colin told briefly, but quite clearly, what he remembered of thelife-history of the fresh-water mussel as described in the Bulletin thathad been given him, and added the information he had secured from theDeputy Commissioner. The superintendent of the station put a few leadingquestions to him, and nodded his head with satisfaction. 

"So far as theory goes, " he said, "I think you have a fairly good ideaof it, although here and there you made some statements showing the needof a good deal of practical work with mussels. But, since you seem tohave a general idea of the anatomy and physiology, I think I will putyou in as Dr. Edelstein's assistant. "

"What is he doing, sir?" queried Colin. 

"He is working on pearl formations, " was the answer. "You have heard, Isuppose, that there has been some excitement over pearl finds?"

"Yes, I heard that away up in Maine, " the boy replied. 

"It's exaggerated a good deal, " the superintendent said; "but as amatter of fact, there have been a few good finds. Dr. Edelstein isstudying the differences between oyster and mussel pearls. Of course, when one of these 'rushes' comes, a very large number of inferior pearlsare found, which are of no commercial value but which afford goodmaterial to work on. Just now, " he added, "I think it is the mostinteresting part of the work. Come along, and I'll introduce you to Dr. Edelstein. "

Colin's new chief was an entirely different type from any of thescientists whom he had met in the Bureau. In the first place, he was agem expert by profession, and consequently, more of a mineralogist thanbiologist. Tall, powerfully built, black-bearded, and abrupt, he gave animpression of volcanic force, and at the same time of great keenness. Ascientist of remarkable discernment, he possessed with all his broadviews a marvelous capacity for detail, and Colin soon learned that thesomewhat slipshod methods of a college laboratory would not be acceptedby Dr. Edelstein. 

"It iss of no use to think that a result iss right!" he said, when Colinbetrayed a hint of impatience at performing the same experiment over andover again, scores of times. "It iss to know for certainly, that wework. "

"I really believe, Dr. Edelstein, " Colin said, "that you would like tosee this fail once or twice. "

"Of gourse! Then we find out why it iss a failure. That iss a good wayto learn. "

But in spite of the strictness of the discipline under which he was keptby his chief, Colin enjoyed the work. His duties were manifold. Somedays he would spend entirely in the laboratory preparing microscopeslides or observing mussel parasites through the microscopes, and makingcopious notes. His power as a colorist stood him in good stead again, and more than once he received a rare word of praise, feeling quiteelated when, one day, late in the summer, Dr. Edelstein said to him:

"I have much gonfidence in your golor sense, Golin. "

At the same station, one of the younger men was finishing a monograph onthe spoonbill-cat, a sturgeon of the lower Mississippi, often six feetin length and a hundred pounds in weight, just coming into commercialimportance as the source of caviare. The 'paddle-fish, ' as the creatureis often called by the negroes, because of its long paddle-shaped jaw, or 'nose, ' formed an interesting study to Colin, for he knew enoughabout the make-up of fishes to realize that this was a very ancientform, midway between the sharks and the true bony fishes. Thepaddle-fish is closely allied to the sturgeon, and its roe has recentlybeen found to be almost as good for caviare as the Russian variety. Thus, within ten years, a new fishing industry has developed on theMississippi River. 

In addition to his laboratory work and to his share in theinvestigations of his friend who was studying the paddle-fish, Colinfrequently took short trips up or down the river for Dr. Edelstein, thelatter being anxious to procure measurements and other data on everypearl found. It was on one of these trips that Colin had the opportunityof seeing the panicky side of a 'pearl fever, ' of which he had heard somuch. The report had come to the station that a pearl of fair size, valued at about five hundred dollars, had been found, four miles belowthe station, and Colin was told to go down and make a report on it assoon as he had finished his afternoon's work. Accordingly, after supper, he took a small power-boat and ran downstream, taking with him a verysensitive pair of scales to determine the exact weight of the pearl, calipers to ascertain its size, and other instruments especiallydesigned by Dr. Edelstein. At the same time, he was ordered to securethe shell from which the pearl had been taken, should it be obtainable. 

The pearl was measured carefully and found to be a fine one, not largeand not unusual in any way, though a certain irregularity in theposition of its formation on the shell gave it a scientific interest. The lucky finder was entirely willing to yield up the shell of themussel from which the pearl had been taken, and was glad to be informedas to its weight and purity. It was pleasant to Colin to see--as he sooften did--the success of the pearl-hunters. But while the boy wasexamining the stone, a loud knock at the door, was heard, and a neighborcame in, breathless and excited. 

[Illustration: LANDING THE PADDLEFISH. 

New industry developed in the lower Mississippi, catching sturgeon-likefish for its roe. 

_By permission of Dr. Louis Hussakoff. _]

"I've got one, " he cried. "I've got a big one!"

Every one present crowded round with cries of congratulation. 

Slowly the newcomer opened his hand and revealed a large pearl almosttwice the size of the gem Colin had been examining, and, therefore, ifof equal purity, worth eight times as much. The finder handed it around, and in course of time it reached the boy, who scrutinized it carefully. 

"Isn't it a beauty?" the newcomer cried. "And just on the very last day!I haven't a penny left in the world, and I sold my old farm to come uphere. It's been getting harder and harder for me every day, and we haddecided to give it all up. I hadn't a bit of hope left, and now----!"

The cottager whose pearl Colin had come down to inspect, slapped thefarmer on the back, and without a trace of enviousness--for he himselfhad been lucky--joined in his delight. The farmer's wife had followedhim more sedately, and she came in to share the general enthusiasm. 

But Colin sat silent. 

Over and over again, with a childish persistence, the farmer told how hehad sold his farm, how he had come up with every penny he owned, how, little by little, it had all oozed away, and how in disgust he haddecided to sell his boat, which would give him just enough money to getback to Missouri. 

"But now, Mary, " he said, "we can go back and get a better farm than weever had, and we'll have a house in the village so that the children cango to a good school, and you'll have lots o' friends, and pretty thingsabout you. It's been hard, neighbors, I tell you, " he said, lookinground; "but the luck has turned at last. "

Colin said not a word, but kept his eyes fixed on the table. His host, the mussel-gatherer, whose stone he had been examining, noticed this, but the newcomer was boisterous in his joy. He babbled of the wealththat was his, until if the stone had been a diamond of equal size, itwould not have sufficed to have financed his dreams. 

But the boy with the instruments on the table before him, said not aword of congratulation or delight. He had only seen the pearl for amoment, but he knew. 

With hearty and jovial hospitality, the farmer invited every one in theroom to come and stay with him as soon as he was settled down. He wouldshow them, he said, what real life was like on a farm. 

Suddenly he stopped. 

"Mister!" he said, in an altered voice. 

Colin, sitting alone, still beside his testing instruments, did not lookup. 

"Mister!" he said again. 

In spite of himself the boy raised his eyes. Do what he might, he couldnot keep the sorrow out of them, and those of the finder of the pearlmet his fairly. 

The room was full of people but it grew still as death. 

The woman clasped her husband's arm and gave a low moan. He touched hershoulder gently. 

"Mister, " he said again, with a humbleness that seemed strangely gentleafter all his bluster and brag, "will you look at this and tell me whatyou think it's worth?"

"I'm not an expert, " the boy said hastily. "I couldn't judge its value. You ought to take it to some one that knows all about these things. "

"I can see what you think, " the farmer said with a pitiful, sad smile;"you think it isn't worth much. Is it worth anything at all?"

Colin took the discolored pearl and looked at it closely. He put it onthe scales and weighed it carefully, measured it, and scrutinized it asclosely as he could in the lamplight, but he knew himself that thesewere devices to gain time. The pearl showed all too clearly a flaw thatwould make it valueless. Every one waited for his verdict. He wasconscious that his voice was a little shaky, but he answered as steadilyas he could:

"I'm afraid, sir----"

"Well?"

"I don't believe, sir----"

"That it's worth anything at all?" the farmer interrupted. 

A solemn dignity, the accompaniment of great trouble, came to the man'said and gave him strength. "Thank you, " he said; "I understand. "

He looked around with a troubled glance and saw the far smaller but morevaluable pearl that his neighbor had found, which was still lying on thetable beside the instruments. A strong shiver shook him, but he made noother sign. He turned to Colin. 

"I see that it's no good, " he said, "but I shall keep it just the same. If you have finished with it----"

Colin stood up and placed the pearl in his hand. 

"Please take it to some one else right away, " he said. "I couldn'tsleep--suppose I were wrong!"

The old farmer looked at him gravely. 

"No man would do as you have done and say what you have said, unless itwas so clear that he couldn't help but know, " he replied. He turned tothe neighbors. "I'm afraid, " he said, "I have in part spoiled yourpleasure, and, " he added, with a twitch of the muscles of his face, "made a fool of myself, besides. Come, Mary, we'll go home. "

The others pressed forward with words of sympathy, but the stricken manpaid no heed and passed out of the door. Colin sat heavily back in hischair staring moodily at the instruments, his heart sore within him, buthe knew he could have done nothing else. Yet the thought of the oldfarmer's sorrow was powerfully before him, and he had to keep a stronggrip on himself to keep from showing an unmanly emotion. 

Outside the little cottage could be heard a murmur of voices, as the oldfarmer tried to comfort his wife, while inside the house no one spokelest he should seem careless of the grief and disappointment of thosewho were still within hearing. Suddenly a third voice was heard outside, speaking excitedly. Once again that tense clutch of suppressed emotionpermeated the room and Colin, with his heart in his mouth, looked up. Noone moved. Outside the voices ceased. 

Then, through the open door, rushed a boy about twelve years old, muddyfrom head to foot, but with his two eyes shining like lights from hisgrimy face. The mussel-gatherer recognized instantly the farmer's son. 

"What is it, John?" he asked. 

"I was goin' over some shells father hadn' opened, after he'd found thatother pearl, an' I got this! Father he says the other one's no good an'that this isn' likely to be any better! But I don' know! It looks allright!"

He glanced down at the object in his hand. 

"Father said it was no good, " he repeated, a little less certainly; "butI don' know. "

He held out his hand and passed the pearl to the mussel-gatherer, whoglanced at it hastily. 

"Mr. Dare!" he said excitedly. 

Colin looked up and caught his glance, then tried to take the stone. Buthis hand shook as though he were in a violent fever, and themussel-gatherer placed it on the table beside his own, in front of theboy. Clear, flawless, and of fair size, it gleamed like a star of hopebefore them all. A moment's examination was enough. Leaping from hisseat Colin seized the pearl and rushed out of the door. 

"It's real, sir; it's real!" he cried. "And will do all you said!"

The old farmer never looked at him. He turned his face toward the starsand reverently removed his hat. 

CHAPTER IX

A TUSSLE WITH THE MONARCH OF THE SEA

In spite of his interest in the pearl work, Colin began to feel thestrain of the steady and persistent grind required from him by Dr. Edelstein, who himself seemed absolutely untiring. At the beginning ofJuly, moreover, the weather turned wet, and the rain poured downsteadily, not heavily, but soaking the ground thoroughly. For a week orso no notice was taken of the rain, other than the discomfort it caused, but one day Colin overheard one of the head workers saying to thesuperintendent:

"It looks as though we might have trouble unless there's a let-up to therain soon!"

"I'm afraid of it, " was the reply, and the grave tone of the answersurprised Colin; "and I hear that it's raining in torrents in Montana. "

"We're safe enough, I suppose, " was the comment. 

"Yes, " the superintendent answered, "but hundreds of other people arenot. Floods always catch some of them. "

This was an idea that had not occurred to Colin. The word "flood" calledup a host of graphic ideas, and a flood on the Mississippi, the largestriver in the world flowing through a populated country, seemed a seriousmatter. He spoke of it to his friend of the paddlefish investigation. 

"Yes, " the other answered, "there have been many scores of lives lostand many millions of dollars swept away on the 'Father of Waters, ' and Idoubt if the time will ever come when the flood danger will be at anend. Remember that the Mississippi River Valley is the only water outletfor two-thirds of the entire United States. "

"It's protected by levees, too, isn't it?" Colin queried. "At least, during the flood on the Mississippi, you always hear of the leveesbreaking or just going to break. "

"They give way very seldom now, " his chief replied, "and that meanswonderful engineering, for there are sixteen hundred miles of levee, theriver banks being built up clear from Illinois to the Gulf. "

"Then where are the floods one hears of so often?"

"There are bad floods on the Ohio, " was the reply, "and there is alwaysdanger when a flood tide comes down the Mississippi. You see, if part ofa levee does give way, or as they say, if a 'crevasse' comes, thousandsof square miles are inundated, hundreds of people made homeless, and theproperty loss is incalculable. All the land around the lower part of theMississippi is just a flood plain which used to be covered with waterevery year. That land has been rescued from the river just as Hollandhas been rescued from the sea. "

"Then there is danger every year?"

"There is always danger, " was the reply, "and the levees are carefullypatrolled. But during the high water of early summer there is moredanger, and a week's rain means trouble. We're going to have a bad floodthis year unless the rain stops soon. "

"But the river isn't rising?"

"Not yet. Why should it? It isn't the water that flows directly into theMississippi, but that which floods the tributaries that causes disaster. From the Rocky Mountains on the one side to the Alleghanies on theother, and from the Gulf of Mexico to Canada--nearly every drop of rainthat isn't evaporated or used by plants has to be carried to the sea bythe Mississippi. "

"It seems like a big job for one river bed, " Colin agreed. "But how canit be made safer?"

"The way is easy, " was the answer, "but costly. If big reservoirs arebuilt on all the headwater streams so that--no matter what the rainfallmay be--only a constant amount is allowed to flow out of thesereservoirs, then floods will be avoided, there will be plenty of waterfor irrigation, and a steady depth of water in the channel will extendnavigation that is now stopped during low-water periods. Besides which, it will make the Mississippi fish question a great deal easier. "

"I don't quite see what it has to do with the fish!" the boy said. 

"Supposing five thousand square miles of land are flooded. When thewater goes down, at least half that amount of land is still flooded, though no longer connected with the river, but forming shallow lakes andpools. These are all full of fish. As the pools dry up, everything thatis in them dies, and millions of food fish are lost. "

"But how can we stop that?"

"The Bureau of Fisheries does a great deal to stop it, " was the answer, "and if this rain holds--though we are all praying that itwon't--you'll probably have a chance to see. The Bureau seines as manyas it can of those bayous and pools and lakes to save the fish andreturn them to the river. If a couple of men can save several thousandfish a day, isn't that worth while? Think of a farmer who could get athousand bushels of wheat in a day! And that's about the proportion offood value. "

"Well, " said Colin, as he was leaving the laboratory to take up anotherpiece of work he had been told to do, "I don't want a flood to come, ofcourse, but if there is one, I'd like to have a chance to see how theBureau handles that sort of fish rescue work. "

The reports the next morning were no more encouraging, --the WeatherBureau reporting heavy rain in Montana and the Milk River in flood. Fortunately the weather was fine in the eastern States, but a flood onthe Milk River usually means a Missouri River flood, and that takes innearly two-fifths of the Mississippi basin. Around the Iowa station therain still poured heavily. By the end of the week more hopeful reportscame from the west. As the southwest had escaped entirely no serioustrouble was expected, but in the region near the laboratory the rainwas coming down in torrents and the Wapsipinicon and Cedar Rivers wereoverflowing their banks. 

[Illustration: CLIMBING UP THE WHEEL. 

Device used on the lower Mississippi to haul in big nets for theSpoonbills. 

_By permission of Dr. Louis Hussakoff. _]

[Illustration: BIGGEST FRESH-WATER FISH IN AMERICA. 

Pulling out the source of domestic caviare, the Spoonbill. 

_By permission of Dr. Louis Hussakoff. _]

The neighboring stations at Bellevue, Iowa, and North MacGregor, Iowa, were reported to be preparing for collecting black bass, crappies, sun-fishes, yellow perch, pike, buffalo-fish, and catfish as soon as thewater should recede and leave the fish stranded in lakes and pools. OneSunday, Colin took the power-boat up the river and had a chat with themen at Bellevue regarding the nature of the work. He found that theflood dangers were small above the junction of the Missouri andMississippi Rivers, and when an opportunity arrived to do some fishcollection in the overflows, the boy thanked the superintendent of thestation, and said he would rather keep to the mussel work. This, a dayor two later, came to the notice of Dr. Edelstein. 

"I haf observed, " his chief said, "that you haf been taking much moreinterest lately in your work. Why is it?"

"I have been trying to do a little investigating on my own account, "Colin said confusedly, "and there's a lot of fun in working things outall by yourself. "

"Haf you any objegtions to telling me what you haf been gonsidering?"

"Not at all, sir, " Colin answered. "I'd be glad to show you, if you'dcare to see. I've been trying to find out the cause of the difference inthe secretions of the mussels that have very bright pearly shells andthose that are dull. But I haven't got very far along yet. "

"Fery good subject, " was the reply; "let me see your notebooks. "

Colin brought him a number of small notebooks filled with records ofexperiments that he had been doing in the evenings, and over some ofthem the gem expert smiled. 

"You haf done a great deal of unnecessary work, " he said, "work that Igould haf told you had no bearing on the results, but it isn't timewasted at all, for you will haf learned more that way than if I had toldyou. And you haf two series of eggsperiments that are very useful. Ifyou only had time to make the series gomplete, the information would beof value to the Bureau. "

"Would you include them in your report, sir, if I completed the series?"

His chief leaned back in his chair. 

"Seriously, " he said, "I think your eggsperiments on the garacter ofthe secretions are very interesting. You don't know as much organicgemistry as you should, but if you will take a few suggestions from me, I think your work would be worth publigation. "

"You mean in your article?" asked Colin. 

"No, " was the answer, "in your own. "

"My article! You mean that I should write it up?"

"Why not?"

"But I don't know enough!"

"If we all waited until we thought we knew enough about a subject, " thescientist answered, "there never yet would haf been a line written. Don't gif any opinions, Golin, for they will not be worth much, nor anygonglusions, because you hafn't reached any. But make a simple statementof what was the problem you had, how you went about it, and the resultsof your eggsperiments so far. Remember, too, " he added, "that a negativeresult is often of just as much value as a positive, for it solves theproblem to the eggstent of eliminating that partigular fagtor. "

"And you really think I should write it up, Dr. Edelstein?"

"Of gourse. "

"But would the Bureau take it?"

"That is for the Gommissioner to say, and he would decide on its merits. If it is not too long--just two or three pages, perhaps, I feel sure hewould aggsept it. If you like I will go over the manuscript and adviseyou about it. "

"Would you really do that for me?" asked Colin. 

"Very gladly, " was the reply; "but you will need a series almost twiceas large as you haf now in order to make it of any value. "

"Indeed I'll complete the series, Dr. Edelstein, " Colin said. "I'll workat it every minute of spare time I can get. "

From that moment time seemed to Colin all too short--the days appearedto fly. He was up long before breakfast getting out specimens both forhimself and his chief and till late in the evening he would sit over hismicroscope working out the details of his experiments. The expert, whohad realized earlier in the summer that Colin was restless, now saw thatthe reason was that none of the work he had been given to do possessedan individual note, and perceiving--as did every one--the enthusiasticnature of the lad, he helped him in every way possible. Thus it cameabout that before the day set for the reopening of college, Colin hadfinished the series of experiments which had been thought necessary, andhad sent the manuscript of his article to Washington. And in the veryfirst batch of letters that he received on his arrival at college wasone from the Commissioner accepting his report and promising publicationin the Bulletin. 

Colin ever afterward declared that this was a great stimulus during hiscollege work. He had done well the first year, but his late trainingunder Dr. Edelstein and the spur of research had taught him how toconcentrate upon his studies. He did not neglect the out-of-doors life, however, and he still had the swimming championship to defend, but everyminute that he was not actively at play he was hard at work. Idleminutes were scarce. Nor did he fail of his reward. Just before thespring examination he received a letter from the Bureau of Fisheriestelling him that his application for the next summer had been acceptedand assigning him to duty at Woods Hole, the station where he had longdesired to be. 

Immediately after the close of the college year, and a few weeks spentat home, Colin betook himself to Washington, where he received thenecessary credentials. As still a week intervened before the time ofthe opening of the laboratory, he spent several days in New York, visiting the American Museum daily and assisting his friend, Mr. Collier, with whom he had gone to Bermuda. The sea-garden exhibits wereall completed and were among the museum's most popular cases, and thecurator was engaged in preparing some exquisite models of theRadiolaria, those magical creatures of the sea, which are so small thatthey can be seen only with a powerful microscope, but which look likeliving snow-crystals, although a thousand times more beautiful. Somewere already installed in the museum, but a large series was planned. 

On his arrival at Woods Hole, Colin found work in the hatchery divisionof the station almost at an end. Hundreds of millions of cod, pollock, haddock, and flatfish fry had been hatched from eggs and planted infavorable places for their further development, and tens of millions oflobster fry as well. A few of the hatching troughs were in use, but mostof them had been emptied and prepared for the work of the biologicaldepartment of the Bureau, to which the station was given over during thesummer months. 

Colin found that he was not unknown to the director, who, beingespecially interested in mollusks, had read the lad's paper on themussel-shells. Accordingly he was quite heartily welcomed and set rightat work. 

"You will take charge of the fish-trap crew, Dare, " he was informed, thedirector's quick, snappy eye taking in the lad. "I suppose you knowenough about fish to tell the various species apart?"

"I'm not sure, sir, " said the boy, "but I think I know most of thecommon kinds. That is, theoretically, Mr. Prelatt, through studyingthem. I have never done any fishing of consequence off the New Englandcoast. "

"You can haul the trap at slack water this afternoon, " the directorsaid. "I will ask Mr. Wadreds to go with you. He knows every kind offish that swims and more about each one than three or four of the restof us put together. "

"What will be my duties, sir?" asked Colin. "I don't want to troubleyou, but if I am to take charge of the crew I ought to know what I haveto do. "

"The trap is to be hauled daily, " was the reply, "except when the wateris very rough. You will be given a list of the needs of the laboratoryfor experimental purposes, and as far as possible, you will fill thoseneeds. Sometimes you may have to assist in the collecting trip besides, as for green sea-urchins and the like; or perhaps you may have to draw aseine for silversides and small fish. Sometimes you may be needed tohaul some of the lobster pots, because we shall have two men at leastdoing research work on lobsters. Again, you may have to get mussels forsome work that is being done on shellfish for food. There will be twoother students working with you in maintaining the supply of specimenmaterial, under the direction of the head collector. "

"Very well, Mr. Prelatt, " the boy replied, "I'll see that things arekept up as far as possible. Am I to come to you for information as towhere to go for special fish and so forth?"

"Mr. Wadreds knows more about that than I do, " the director said; "hecan usually tell you just where to find anything you're after. You'llsoon find it easy, because collecting narrows down to a few species. TheM. B. L. Boat does collecting, too, and sometimes each party is able tohelp the other. "

"What is the M. B. L. , sir?" asked Colin. 

"The Marine Biological Laboratory, " was the reply, "which owns all theland on the other side of the street, just as we do on this. It is asummer college supported by a number of leading universities, to whichgraduate students come for courses in biology and marine life. There issome research work done also, and at the present moment ProfessorJacques Loeb is doing some wonderful work over there on fishhybridization. We are entirely distinct organizations, one being asummer school and the other being a government marine hatchery with abiological laboratory attached. They have their own boats and we haveours, but we grant them the privilege of using our wharves, and there isa great deal of friendly cooperation between the two. "

"You spoke of sea-mussels, sir, " suggested Colin. 

"Well?"

"I was wondering, Mr. Prelatt, whether I would have any time aside fromthe fish-traps and the collecting, and if so, if I might work with theman who is going to take that up. "

The director shook his head. 

"No, " he answered, "there are two men working on that subject together. Besides which, you will have but very little time, at least for a coupleof weeks. Then, if you feel that you would like some research work, I'lltell you what I want done. "

Colin soon found that the demands upon him by the chief of thecollecting staff not only were very heavy, but that they requiredconsiderable ingenuity. Frequently he would be asked for starfish and itwould be necessary to go to a well-known shoal at some little distance, perhaps in the _Phalarope_ or other of the government boats. There theywould dredge with 'tangles, ' a tangle being an iron frame with yards andyards of cotton waste dragging behind in which the spines of sea-urchinsand the rough convolutions of starfish easily become entangled. Occasionally more distant trips, such as those to the Gulf Stream, wouldbe made on the _Fish Hawk_, the largest of the Bureau's boats, namedlike all the others, after sea birds. 

The hauling of the fish-trap, usually done in boats from the _BlueWing_, never palled in interest. Every day the visit to the trap had theexpectant thrill the miner finds when prospecting in a new stream. Therewas always the excitement of possibly finding new species, true goldto the scientist. 

[Illustration: THE _BLUE WING_ AT THE GOVERNMENT FISH TRAP, WOODS HOLE. 

_Photograph by C. R. W. _]

"I've found at least three new species, " said Mr. Wadreds to him oneday, "right out of the same trap you're haulin'. And sometimes, whenthere has been a long-continued storm and the wind's settin' in from thesoutheast, the traps have jest had numbers o' tropical fish. "

"Why should the wind bring the fish?" asked Colin. 

"They come up with the weed, lad, " was the old collector's reply. "Whena storm rises the big masses o' gulf weed are broken up an' drift on thesurface before the wind. A great many semi-tropical fish live on theweed an' the little creatures that make their homes in it, an' so theycome followin' it away up here. Then we find them in the traps and byseinin'. We've caught butterfly fish an' parrot fish in the seines uphere several times. "

"We get menhaden in the trap principally now, " the boy said; "why aren'tthey used for food? They look all right. Are they poisonous, orsomething?"

"Oily, " was the reply; "an Eskimo might like 'em, but no one else. Butthe menhaden fishery is valuable just the same, for there's more oiland better oil got every year from menhaden than there is whale oil. Nearly all fish manure is menhaden, too. But they're not a food fish. "

"Nor are dogfish, " said Colin, "but I see that the M. B. L. Mess tablehas them once in a while. We get lots of mackerel and other varietiesthat are good eating. I wonder why they eat dogfish?"

"Partly to try it out, " the collector said. "A dogfish is a shark, asyou know, and mos' people don't like the idea of eatin' any kind o'shark. But it is a waste to have a good article o' food entirelyneglected by the public an' so the Bureau and the M. B. L. Have triedusin' dogfish on the table as an experiment to get an idea of its valueas food. "

"It tastes all right, too, " said the boy. "I had some yesterday. "

"O' course it does, but the name is against it. Both dogfish and catfishare good eatin', but there is a prejudice against 'em, because peopledon't eat cats an' dogs. But they have been canned an' sold undervarious names, such as 'ocean whitefish, ' 'Japanese halibut, ' an' 'seabass. '"

"They have a vicious look, though!"

"They are vicious, " was the reply, "but you mustn't believe all youhear. Why, at the last International Fishery Congress a speaker told ofa plague o' dogfish which not only attacked lobsters, but swallowed potsan' all. "

Colin looked incredulously at his friend. 

"That's the story, " the other said; "you don't have to believe it. Idon't. "

"But after all, a dogfish is a shark, and aren't sharks the most viciouscreatures o' the sea?"

"I shouldn't say so, " the old collector answered. "I reckon the moray isreally more vicious. He's always huntin' trouble. A shark is alwayshungry, that's all. Fishes have different kinds o' tempers, you know, an' often it's the smallest creature that's the meanest. "

"Common fishes?"

"There isn't anythin' that swims that's meaner than a 'mad-Tom, ' an'they're frequent in all the rivers o' the middle west an' south. A'mad-Tom, '" he continued in answer to the boy's questioning look, "is asmall catfish with spines. Most boys in riverside villages have theirhands all cut up by 'mad-Toms. ' O' course there are scorpion-fish an'toad-fishes in tropical waters, an' their poison will cripple a man fora while, but there's no fish that's fatal. "

"I thought there were lots of poisonous things in the water, " Colinsaid, "jellyfish and other things like that. "

"Well, " replied the collector, "a jellyfish can be tolerable poisonous. The Portuguese man-o'-war, pretty enough to look at when it floats onthe water, with long streamers o' purple threads flowin' out behind, isthe only thing that I ever heard of that killed a man. "

"A jellyfish? How?"

"It was all his own fault, " was the reply. "It was down in the Bahamas, off Nassau, as I remember. The sea was just alive with jellyfish, an'this young fellow that I'm tellin' about, he swam around a good deal an'once or twice had run into a jellyfish without gettin' stung. There'sonly some o' them that sting. "

"I thought all of them did a little?"

"No, only a few. Well, this chap knew enough, I reckon, to keep awayfrom a Portuguese man-o'-war usually, but either he had got reckless ordidn't think of it. Some of his friends shouted out to him to take care, but he laughed back, tellin' them they were foolish to believe oldstories, and to show that he didn't care, in a spirit o' 'dare' he divedplumb under the jellyfish. But he misjudged his distance an' came upclean in the middle of it an' the stingin' hairs just closed all over onhim. "

"There are hundreds of them, too, aren't there?"

"Thousands of stingin' filaments in some o' them. He gave one wildscream an' went down. When he came up and his friends were able to grasphim he was paralyzed as though he had suffered an electric shock, an'before they could get him to shore his body had broken out in a violentrash. The doctors couldn't do anythin' for him an' he died three dayslater. "

"Have you ever been stung?"

"I know enough to keep away from a jellyfish, " was the blunt rejoinder;"but I had a nasty time with a torpedo once. "

"The electric ray?" queried Colin. "That fish that looks like a smallsea vampire only it hasn't a whip-like tail?"

"That's it, " said the older man. "It was when I was just a youngster, Iwas haulin' in a net, when my feet slipped from under an' I wentheadlong into the middle o' the net, and a torpedo landed on the backo' my neck. I reckon he must have shocked the spinal cord or somethingbecause I was fair paralyzed for an hour or two. You're sure to get oneyourself, " he continued, "because they use torpedoes for research work agood deal, but a shock in the hand or on the arm passes away in a fewminutes, so that you don't need to worry about that. The electriceels--which are not eels at all, though they look like it--are the worstof all, but since they live only in South American rivers, I supposethey won't bother you much. "

"As long as I don't find any in the fish-trap, " said Colin, laughing, asMr. Wadreds nodded and went on his way, "I won't mind, and I'd just assoon not have to handle any dogfish that swallow lobster-pots as ahabit, but if I do I'll come to you for help. "

All in all, Colin thought Woods Hole the most interesting place in whichhe had ever been. Unlike other summer resorts, a spirit of earnest vigorpervaded the little settlement. The houses nestled in the wooded lowhills behind the town, and though so near the sea, flowers could be madeto grow luxuriantly, as a famous and beautiful rose garden bore witness. To the southeast, over a spit of land that was little wider than acauseway, the road ran to the Marine Biological Laboratory and theBureau of Fisheries station, holding their commanding positionsoverlooking the harbor. The great government pier smacked of the stormysea, for it was used also by the Lighthouse Service and huge red buoyslay in dozens on it awaiting their hour to warn the tempest-drivenmariner of the perils that lay below them. 

Nearer in, where the pier was severed from the shore, the opening beingcrossed by a short swing bridge, was a small inclosed inner harbor wherelay the launches and boats of the two laboratories. Upon the shoreitself was a stone-walled tank, set between the Residence building andthe Laboratory proper, and therein large fish which had been caught intraps or elsewhere, and which were too big for the indoor tanks, flittedas dark shadows within the pool. Smaller fish were in the Aquarium inthe first floor of the laboratory opposite the wide space where stoodthe serried rows of hatching troughs. 

Here were many most interesting fish--among them that constant delightof the landsman, the puffer, which, when disturbed, rapidly inflatesitself, rising to the surface of the water until it becomes apparentlyso large a mouthful that its would-be devourer is fooled into believingthe morsel too big to swallow. Then, the danger removed, the pufferreleases the gulped-down water and swims away. Here also were strangefish, like the eighteen-spined sculpin and the sea-robin, walking overthe bottom on three free rays of each of the pectoral fins. Upon the topstory of the same building were preserved in a rough museum variousother strange forms, not all from Woods Hole waters; the remora, orsucking fish, that fastens on sharks and becomes a constant passengerenjoying a free ride, specimens of which were often in the Aquarium; thedeal-fish, which alone among its tribe has a long slim fin projectingupwards from the tail almost at right angles to it; the blenny, whosefacial expression has caused it to be known as the sarcastic blenny; thegraceful sea-horse, who swings on seaweed with a prehensile tail likethat of a monkey--and the male of which hatches the eggs instead of themother, and not the least extraordinary, the three-cornered trunk-fishwhose front view is the most unfishlike apparition possible. These andhundreds of others Colin learned to know from the collections. 

It was with great delight that Colin heard of the presence of hisfriend Mr. Collier, who was working on the plans for a model of Bryozoa, and who had with him his staff of glass-workers and modelers. The boyfound it hard to tear himself away from this laboratory and struck upquite a friendship with a Japanese colorist on the staff. Also, he wasfortunate in meeting and knowing Mr. Cavalier, the artist of animallife, and from him the boy learned a great deal of the picturesque andćsthetic elements of the life which he painted and modeled with suchsurpassing skill. Scores of other workers, writers, and scientists ofall kinds had rooms in the wonderfully interesting workshops of WoodsHole. 

[Illustration: HATCHERY AND LABORATORY BUILDING, WOODS HOLE. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

[Illustration: RESIDENCE AND FISHERIES BUREAU HEADQUARTERS, WOODS HOLE. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

Beyond the laboratory building was the wharf to which the two steamyachts attached respectively to the station and the M. B. L. Were tiedup. Beyond that again was a second pier, that of the Revenue Cutterservice, where lay, with banked fires, one of the guardians of Americanseas, a man ever on duty at the wireless receiver. Beyond the pier theland curved to the point opposite the Elizabeth Islands, while in thenarrow strait or 'hole' between, the tide for all Buzzards Bay surgedout or in as the ebb and flow compelled. 

As captain of the fish-trap crew and active in collection, Colin had therun of both laboratories and the day always seemed too short for him. Every investigator's work was a matter of personal interest to him andhe talked 'research' all the day long, though too tired to dream of itat night. Nor did he forget his swimming, and at the beach in BuzzardsBay he swam a mile or so each day, the admiration and the envy of allthe M. B. L. Students. But Colin speedily won their friendship, for henever hesitated to help other swimmers in every way he could, eventeaching little tricks of style that were all his own and which had gonefar to win him his championship. 

As Director Prelatt had promised, Colin was given an opportunity to keepsome research work in hand, although he found--as had beenforetold--that he had but little time for it. The director was engagedupon a most interesting and important investigation, which, like allthose that were in progress at the laboratory, had a strong economicvalue. This was the study of the life history of the whelk. 

"At first sight, " the director said to him, when explaining the problem, "it does not seem as though the biology of a sea-snail were a matter ofmuch importance to the country, but as a matter of fact, to a greatextent the oyster industry--which reaches millions of dollars annuallyand gives employment as well as food to thousands of people--dependsupon that very thing. "

"Just how, Mr. Prelatt?" inquired Colin. 

"All creatures have their own special enemies, " the director answered;"and everything is so equally balanced that there are enough oystersborn to keep up the supply in spite of the attacks of the whelk, oroyster-drill as it is termed. When man comes on the scene, however, andcommences to dredge the oysters, the combination of the market and thedrill together is too much for the oyster-beds and they soon becomedepleted. "

"That's the way it is with fish, too!"

"With everything, " was the assenting answer. "Now there are two ways toovercome this condition. One is the way in which we handle the samequestion with fish--by artificially hatching millions more eggs everyyear than would have been hatched during a state of nature. The other isby attacking the enemy of the oyster and thus enlarging the chances ofthose that hatch naturally. The latter we can't do with fish. "

"Why not, sir?"

"Because the enemies of fish are numerous and free-swimming, " was theanswer, "and also because fish produce an enormous amount of eggs. Oysters do also, but fertilization is so largely a matter of chance thatbut a few of the tens of thousands of eggs ever really have a chance tobecome young oysters. You can help that in two ways, one by preparingthe ground so that everything is made easy for the young oysters to havea chance, the other by thinning them out or transplanting the youngoysters or 'spat' as they are called, improving and enlarging the beds. "

"That ought to help settle it, I should think. "

"It is not enough. Enemies also must be kept at bay. "

"I should think the oyster, in its tough shell, would be practicallyfree from enemies, " remarked Colin. 

"On the contrary, it has a large number. A great many kinds of fish, such as skates, for example, will eat oysters, and many owners ofoyster-beds have surrounded their holdings with an actual stockade ofstakes. "

"Like the pioneers had against the Indians?"

"Just the same, " assented the director. "Drum-fish are hostile on theAtlantic coast, and on the Pacific a very substantial stockade isrequired against the invasion of sting-rays. More destructive still arethe starfish. "

Colin stared at the director in surprise. 

"Starfish!" he said, "those little starfish? Why, they're soft and theyhaven't any teeth or anything to crush an oyster shell with. "

"They're small and they're soft and they haven't any teeth at all, " saidthe director, "but starfish cost the oyster industry at least fivemillion dollars a year. "

"But how?" queried Colin; "I don't see how they can work it. "

"What is a starfish?"

The boy thought for a moment. 

"It's an echinoderm, " he said, "generally with five arms, that livesonly in the sea, has a simple stomach, and feeds on the minute organismsin the water. "

"There you're wrong, " said the director. "It lives only in the sea, that's right enough, but you haven't proper regard for a starfish'spowers of digestion. It feeds on mussels, oysters and other shellfish. Can it swim?"

"I don't think so, sir, " said Colin, after a moment's thought, "itcrawls. "

"How?"

"I don't know, Mr. Prelatt. "

"By thousands of sucker-like feet on the under side of it, " he was told. "So you see it can crawl to and over an oyster-bed. "

"But even so, wouldn't an oyster shut tight at the approach of danger?"suggested Colin. 

"That doesn't make any difference to the starfish, " was the reply, "he'll open the oyster. "

"How, sir?"

"What keeps an oyster closed?"

"The muscle, sir, because when it is dead it flies open. "

"Very good. Do muscles grow tired?"

"Mine do, " said Colin, smiling, "and I suppose the muscles of oystersare the same way. "

"Exactly. Now what happens is this. The starfish crawls along until hefinds an oyster which he thinks will suit his taste. As he crawls nearor on it, the oyster closes up tight. The starfish--taking plenty oftime--fastens himself to the shell, having two of his 'arms' on oneshell and the suckers of the other three 'arms' attached to the othershell. Then the starfish starts to pull. "

"But isn't the oyster stronger?"

"Much stronger, " agreed the director, "but the starfish doesn't knowenough to quit. The pull he exerts is not so powerful but it isrelentless and unceasing and no oyster muscle can resist it for morethan a few hours. Presently the shell gapes open. The starfish lumbersover and commences to feed, other starfish often coming to enjoy thefeast. "

"And are there starfish enough to injure the beds?"

"Myriads of them. A starfish is not easy to kill, moreover, because ifany of the arms are cut off he will grow a new one. "

"How do the oystermen fight them?"

"By catching them in tangles. The snarled cotton waste does no harm tothe oyster, but, as it is pulled over the bed, picks up hundreds ofstarfish and sea-urchins. Up-to-date vessels engaged in that work have avat of boiling water on deck, into which the tangle is plunged when itis pulled up from the bottom. This kills the starfish and is a greatgain over the old system of picking them out of the tangle by hand. 

"But the worst of all the oyster's enemies, " the director continued, "and the one on which I am working, is the oyster-drill. At least eightyper cent of the possible oyster crop is destroyed by this sea-snail. This creature, usually about half an inch long, crawls on anoyster--usually a young one--and with a rasp-like tongue files a hole inthe shell, through which it sucks the juices out of the oyster. The onlything that keeps the oyster-drill in check at all is that as soon as itis big enough for a younger drill to climb on its shell, it is apt tosuffer the same fate. It is a case of reversed cannibalism, the strongerfalling to the weaker. "

"What can be done to stop it?"

"Nothing so far, " said the director; "that is my chosen problem. Becausethe drill prefers the thin-shelled mussel to the thicker-shelled oysterit has been suggested that mussels should be planted outsideoyster-beds, so that the drills would stay there. But the cure would beworse than the disease, for the mussels would spread over the oyster-bedand the drills with them, since they would have so excellent a breedingground. No, the problem is still unsolved, and the people of the UnitedStates are looking to the Bureau of Fisheries to solve it. The Bureauhas given it to me. That's the fascination of this work, that on yourown toil and your own skill and ingenuity a factor of world-wideimportance may depend. "

"Perhaps----"

"What is it, Colin?"

"It just occurred to me, sir, " the boy answered, "that perhaps someparasite which would prey on the drill might be found. "

"It might--but I have as yet found none. "

"Or perhaps, " Colin again suggested, "some chemical which would unitewith lime might be put into the water so that the oyster shell might bepoisonous to the drill, but not for food, because we eat the oyster andnot the shell. "

The director laughed. 

"That suggestion is new, at least, " he said, "but I don't think it wouldwork because this is a marine question and the water changescontinuously. There must be some solution, there's always a way of doingeverything, and some one will find it out. I'm going to stick at it tillI do, that is, when I'm not engaged on other Bureau work. But I'm alwaysglad of suggestions, and when you can help me in any way I'll let youknow. "

"Thank you ever so much, Mr. Prelatt, " Colin answered; "I'll be glad todo anything I can. "

The boy had a fertile brain, and, before a week had passed by, a line ofexperiment suggested itself to him in connection with the oyster-drillproblem and he explained it to the director. 

"To work that out properly would take several years!" the latter saidtentatively. 

"I thought it would, " said Colin, "but perhaps some one else could carryit on, and the work ought to be done, anyway. "

"You have the right idea, " the director replied; "it's the problem, notthe man who solves it. Now, " he continued, "I have a surprise for you. Dr. Jimson, who has been working on swordfish for some time, is anxiousto try and capture a large specimen and is going out with a swordfishsloop next week. I can probably arrange for the trap to be looked after, if you are off for a day or two. Do you want to go?"

"Indeed I do, " said Colin. "Mr. Wadreds was telling me some stories justthe other day about swordfish-catching. "

"I suppose he told you the famous story of the swordfish which charged avessel and drove its sword through 'copper sheathing, an inch boardunder-sheathing, a three-inch plank of hard wood, the solid white oaktimber twelve inches thick, then through another two and a half-inchhard-oak ceiling, and lastly penetrated the head of an oil cask, whereit stuck, not a drop of the oil having escaped?'"

[Illustration: WHAT SHALL WE GET THIS TIME?

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

[Illustration: HERE'S A NEW ONE, BOYS!

The veteran collector of the Woods Hole Station is seen in theforeground of both pictures. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"Yes, Mr. Prelatt, " Colin answered, "and if he hadn't told me that therecord was authentic and that the sword and section of timber had beenin the National Museum, I might have doubted it. "

"They're enormously powerful, one of the best boatmen I ever knew waskilled by a swordfish, " said the director. 

"How was that, sir?"

"He had harpooned the swordfish and had gone out in the small boat tolance it, when the huge fish dived under the craft and shot up from thebottom like a rocket, his sword going through the timbers as though theywere paper and striking the boatman with such force that he was killedalmost instantly. Boats used often to be sunk by the rushes of aswordfish, but nowadays the greater part of the work is done directlyfrom the deck of a schooner. No amount of changes, however, can take allthe excitement out of a swordfish capture. "

"Will they attack a boat unprovoked?"

"There are lots of cases in which they are supposed to have done so, "the director replied, "but I think any such instances were probablyswordfish who had been wounded--but not fatally. You knew that theswordfish was the Monarch of all the Fish?"

"No, " Colin answered, "I didn't. "

"He was so elected at one of the meetings of the International Congressof Fisheries, " said the director, smiling. "We were waiting for thechairman or the speaker or somebody and in casual conversation the queryarose as to who was the real master of the seas, in the same way thatthe lion is regarded as the King of Beasts. "

"And the swordfish got the award?"

"After quite a little debate. Plenty of people had their own favorites, the white shark and the killer whale among others, but when it came to asort of informal vote, the swordfish was chosen almost unanimously. "

"I shall be glad to pay my respects to His Majesty, " answered Colin witha laugh, as the director wheeled his chair to his desk, "and I'm ever somuch obliged for the opportunity. "

The next morning, after having hauled the trap, Colin jumped aboard the_Phalarope_, which was going to New Bedford for supplies for thestation, and which was to take him there to join Dr. Jimson on aswordfish schooner. A large portion of the surface of Buzzards Bay wasdotted with billets of wood, about six inches thick and painted in allmanner of colors. Some were red, some white, some black, some yellow andblue, some striped in all manner of gaudy hues. 

"I've been wondering, " said Colin, as he stood in the pilot housechatting to the captain of the little steamer, "what all those sticks inthe water are?"

The captain took his pipe out of his mouth to stare at him in surprise, as he turned the wheel a spoke or two. 

"Don't you know that?" he said. "Those are lobster-pot buoys. "

"You mean there's a lobster-pot attached to every one of those?"

"Yes, of course. "

"But there are thousands of them! Why, right now, I can probably seeforty or fifty, and they're not so awfully easy to catch sight of with alittle sea running. And why are they painted all different colors?"

"Different owners, " was the reply, "every man has his own color. Everyday, or every other day at least, he sails out to the grounds--some of'em now have motor-boats--and makes a round of his pots. A chap whosebuoy is yellow has perhaps a hundred or two yellow buoys scattered aboutthe harbor. "

"That sounds like work, " said Colin. 

"It's hard work, " was the reply. "A lobster-pot is weighted with bricksand it's a heavy load to pull up in a boat. It's an awkward thing tohandle, too. Then a lobsterman has to rebait his traps, and as he doesthat with rotten fish, it's not a sweet job. And he can only bring inlobsters over a certain size; anything less than nine and a half inchesin length he has to throw back. Sometimes it'll happen that the trapsare full of lobsters that are too short or too small, 'shorts' they call'em, and his day's work won't bring him in much. There's a living in it, but that's about all. "

Finding that the captain of the _Phalarope_ knew the lobster businesswell, as do most men who are natives of the region, Colin kept him busyanswering questions until they ran into New Bedford. As the old centerof the whaling industry, the harbor had a great interest for Colin, butthere was but one of the whaling ships in at the time, and the ancientfisher-town atmosphere was greatly marred by extensive cotton mills thathad been built along the river, just below where the whaling piers usedto be. The swordfish schooners were at the pier, however, large as life, and Colin felt quite a thrill of excitement as he stepped aboard thelittle vessel on which he was to live for the next couple of days, andsaw the narrow dark bunks in the entirely airless cabin in which fourmen were to sleep. Dr. Jimson and Colin practically were going asmembers of the crew, the two men, whose places they were taking, stayinghome from the trip. 

Long before sunrise the following morning they were up, and by daybreakthe schooner was standing out of the harbor for Block Island, one of thefamous haunts of the swordfish. Colin, who had good eyesight, and whowas always eager to be up and doing, volunteered to go to thecrow's-nest and keep a lookout for the dorsal fin of a swordfish, which, he was told, could be seen a couple of miles away. There was noadvantage in going aloft, however, until toward noon, when, the waterbeing still, the swordfish come up to sun themselves. 

Once Colin was quite sure that he saw a swordfish, but just as he wasabout to shout, there flashed across his mind a sentence that he hadread somewhere of the likelihood of confusing a shark's fin with that ofa swordfish, and soon he was able to make out that it was a shark. As itgrew toward noon and the sun's rays beat directly on him, Colin began torealize that sitting on a scantling two inches by four at the top of aschooner's mast in a bobbing sea, under a broiling sun, was a long wayfrom being a soft snap, but he would have scorned to make a complaint. He was more than glad, though, when the cook hailed all hands to dinner, and one of the sailors went to the crow's-nest. 

At dinner Colin turned the conversation to swordfish and their ways. 

"There's one thing I don't quite understand, Dr. Jimson, " he asked, "isa spear-fish the same as a swordfish, only that the weapon is shorter?"

"Not at all, " was the reply, "the spear-fish is a variety of the greatsailfish, which you see in West Indian waters six or seven feet long, with a huge dorsal fin, blue with black spots, looming above the waterlike the sail of a strange craft. But the real difference is in thespear or sword. In the case of the spear-fish it is bony, being aprolongation of the skull; in the case of the swordfish it is horny, andhorns, as you probably know, are formations of skin rather than bone. Now the narwhal's tusk, " he continued, "is again an entirely differentthing. "

"That's a tooth, isn't it?"

"Yes, " was the reply, "it seems to be the mark of the male narwhal. Sometimes a narwhal has two tusks, but generally only one--on the leftside. The females have none at all. You know the unicorn is alwaysrepresented with a narwhal's tusk? One of the early travelers, Sir Johnde Mandeville or Marco Polo, I forget which, brought back a narwhal'stusk which, he had been told, had been taken from a kind of horse. Ireally suppose that the native who sold it believed it was from somespecies of antelope. But to this day the arms of Great Britain show ahorse having a fish's tooth sticking out from his forehead like animpossible horn. "

"Way-o!" suddenly came the cry from the masthead. 

"Where away?" called the captain, jumping up and looking around. 

"Three points on the starboard bow, sir, " answered the sailor, pointinghis finger. 

"That's right enough. You're in luck, Dr. Jimson, " he added, turning tohis passengers, "you won't have had long to wait if we catch this onefor you. "

The captain walked aft, saw that everything was clear on deck, thenstepped forward and walked out on the bowsprit to the 'pulpit, ' thecharacteristic feature of a swordfish schooner. This was a smallcircular platform about three feet across, built at the end of thebowsprit, with a rail waist high around it and a small swinging seat. Triced up to the jib stay was the long harpoon with its head, known asthe 'lily-iron. '

The schooner, having the wind abeam, danced smartly over the wavestoward the long lithe fin, gliding swiftly through the water. Thecaptain, standing like a statue, waited until the craft was within tenfeet of the unconscious swordfish, then thrust downward with all hismight. It was a thrust--not a throw--and the muscular strength behindthe blow caused the steel to pierce the thick skin of the swordfish. Atthe same instant the keg around which the line had been wound was thrownoverboard, and the water flew up like a fine jet from the rapidrevolutions of the barrel as the swordfish sped away with the line. 

"How in the world are you going to haul him in now?" asked Colin, whenhe saw the keg thrown overboard. 

"Did you think we pulled him in, same as you would a cod?" asked thecaptain. 

"Why not?"

"Too much chance of sinking the schooner!" was the reply. "That isn'tthe way to get a swordfish. "

As soon as the line on the barrel became unwound, it tightened with ajerk and the barrel disappeared under the surface. But the resistancethat the barrel full of air at the end of the long line gave was greatand even the powerful swordfish could not tow it for long. In a fewminutes he slackened his speed and the barrel bobbed to the surface. Butthe swordfish was still traveling like a railroad train, in shortrushes, however, here and there. 

"See him charge it!" cried Colin. 

There was a swirl of water and with a speed which seemed incredible thehuge body launched itself at the barrel. But there was no resistance, the keg revolved as the sword struck it, and the swordfish shot into theair. Again and again he charged, and Colin realized what danger laybehind that ton and a half of muscle backed by a power that could drivesuch a weight at sixty miles an hour through the water. 

Again the Monarch of the Sea shot away, towing the barrel, but it was adisheartening drag, even upon the magnificent strength of the greatswordfish. Little by little the rushes became shorter, the spurts lessfrequent, as exhaustion and loss of blood began to tell. The captainordered out the boat and, at his earnest appeal, Colin was allowed togo. 

"You're light, " the captain of the schooner said, as he picked up alance not unlike a whale lance, "and we don't want much weight in theboat because it might pull the barb out of the fish if he starts torun. "

"This reminds me, " said the boy, "of the time I was spearing whales inthe Behring Sea, " and he recounted the adventure briefly as they pulledtoward the swordfish. The Monarch of the Sea, who had never had achance to show his powers, being handicapped by the barrel dragging backhis every movement, caught sight of the boat. He did not wait to beattacked, but rushed with renewed fury at this new foe. The captain, apparently unmoved, waited until the fish rose at the boat and then hethrust in the lance with all his strength. The force acting against bothfish and boat drove the latter sideways a foot or more, so that thegiant rose in the air not two feet from the gunwale of the boat, thespray stinging like fine rain as the wind of his leap whistled by. 

[Illustration: CATCHING SWORDFISH WITH ROD AND REEL. 

Dangerous method of capturing the monarch of the sea, used only byexpert anglers. 

_By permission of Mr. Chas. Fredk. Holder. _]

"He'll charge again in a minute, " the captain said quietly, "look outalways for the second rush. "

The words were scarcely out of his lips when the fin appeared. Onceagain, as before, that great mass of dynamic energy hurled itself at theboat, but twenty yards away there came a sudden check and the swordfishdived. A second passed--so long that it seemed like a minute, whileColin waited shiveringly to hear the crashing of the timbers and to seethat fearful weapon flash up between them, but as silently as a shadowthe lithe gray fighting machine shot up from the deep a yard or twoastern of the boat and, falling limply, turned on his side, dead. 

The captain smiled. 

"If he had lived about a half a second longer, " he said, "I reckon thisboat would be on its way to the bottom now. "

CHAPTER X

RUN DOWN DURING A SQUALL

On the way back to New Bedford, Colin begged for the 'sword' of theswordfish as a trophy, and, permission being given, one of the boatmenvolunteered to prepare it for him, offering to clean and polish it sothat the weapon would show to best advantage. Dr. Jimson had beenexcessively courteous to Colin throughout the trip, and hisfellow-feeling was greatly increased when he learned that the boy alsowas a holder of the blue tuna button, for he himself was an enthusiasticangler. 

"I'm a trout-fisher by preference, " said Dr. Jimson, settling himselfdown for a chat as the schooner sailed quietly on its way to NewBedford, with a dropping wind, "and I believe that the steelhead trout, in the streams that flow through the redwood forests, are the finestfish alive. "

"I thought the rainbow trout was supposed to have the call, " said Colin;"at least, Father always declares so, and he goes up to the Klamathregion nearly every year. "

"The rainbow is a very gamy trout, " agreed the angler, "and it runslarge, up to twenty pounds sometimes, but pound for pound, there's morefight in a steelhead. "

"What's the Dolly Varden?" Colin queried. "I never can get the variouskinds of trout clear in my mind. "

"If you can keep them clear when you have them hooked, " said the other, with a jolly laugh, "that's much more important. But a Dolly Vardenisn't a trout at all, it's really a char. It's a beautiful fish, too, and you find it in cold, clear streams, such as the upper waters of theSacramento and Alaskan rivers. In Alaska it swarms in millions. But themost beautiful trout in the country, indeed the most beautiful fish inthe world, perhaps, are found in three little streams on the very top ofthe Sierra Nevada. Did they tell you the story, in Washington, about thethree forms of golden trout?"

"No, Dr. Jimson, " the boy replied; "Dr. Crafts mentioned it, butsomething came up to turn the conversation. "

"I went up on that expedition a few years ago, " the trout-lover said, "because I've done a good deal of work for the Bureau on the wholesalmon family. Trout and salmon are very near relatives, and the troutwill go up streams and leap small falls just as the salmon do. But, asyou can easily see, in the headwaters of streams rising high in theSierras, there are sure to be falls that trout cannot leap. "

"Yes, sir, of course. "

"Now, my boy, " the other said impressively, "a few years ago, it wasfound out that there were trout in these streams above falls which wouldbe absolutely impassable to any fish. How could they get there? It was ariddle. The only possible answer was that the fish must be older thanthe falls, that the stream had worn away its bed, bit by bit, until animpassable barrier from below had been created, but that the trout hadgone on in the upper creeks, developing in their own way, for hundredsof centuries. 

"The rocks over which these streams flow are a granite formation, verybrightly colored, principally gray and red. The swiftly-flowing streamremoves the débris, so that the clear water flows limpidly over thisgorgeous coloring. In such a stream, where the natural enemies of thetrout are the fish-hawk and the eagle, it is essential as a matter ofprotection that the fish should resemble the hue of the bottom, andaccordingly, the most superb coloring in the world is theirs. But eachof the three small streams that are cut off from the rivers below arealso separate from each other, and in the ages during which this hasbeen so, each of these streams has seen a different coloration developin the trout. All are bright golden, all have orange fins and an orangestripe along the side, all are spotted with black, but they vary in manysmall particulars. Nowhere else in the world but in these threecreeks--Volcano Creek, Soda Creek, and Aqua Bonita or Gracious WaterCreek--can these fish be found; nowhere else would they retain theirgorgeous coloring. 

"Accordingly, the United States Government sent a party up to the verysummit of the Sierra Nevada to study these fish, and of this party I wasone. It was there that I saw the most marvelous storm that has perhapsever been recorded. An electrical disturbance of great magnitude waspassing over the country at the time, and it reached its vivid climax onthe Sierras. Our camp was struck, several animals killed, and a coupleof the teamsters severely injured, but for nearly two hours the wholeworld seemed set in a coronal of lightning flashes. 

"We stayed up there with the trout for several weeks, and when wereached Washington, there was not a man in the party but was determinedto fight, heart and soul, to save these rare fish from extinction. Oneor two summers during which 'fish-hogs' were permitted on the upperreaches of the Kern River, would have destroyed the trout forever, and, indeed, in one month a party of those reckless near-sportsmen destroyedalmost one thousand of them. But the President's interest was enlisted, the Bureau of Fisheries made a firm stand, and to-day the regioncontaining these most exquisite and most wonderful of all fresh-waterfish is a part of the Mount Whitney National Park, and the golden troutare saved from extinction. "

"Bully for the Bureau!" cried Colin. "Every time I learn more of itswork, it seems to be doing something finer. "

Following out the lad's interest in the whole trout question, Dr. Jimsontaught him nearly all there was to know about the various members of thesalmon and trout family, one of the most important food-fish groups ofthe world. Both being ardent fishermen, they were startled, however, bythe sudden announcement:

"Big halibut off starboard quarter!"

"Yes, " said Dr. Jimson, "there it is! Don't you see it, " he continued, pointing with his finger, "flapping its tail on the water?"

"I see, " said Colin; "but what is it doing that for?"

"Probably attacking a fish, " was the reply. "Are you going after it, Captain?"

"No, " the fisherman answered; "I've heard that people sometimes catchthem without a net, but I never did. "

"One of the biggest halibut that was ever brought ashore was caught injust such a way, " the trout expert said, turning to Colin. "It was outnear Sable Island, and the halibut was attacking a big cod by repeatedblows with its tail. A boat was sent out with a couple of men carryinggaff-hooks, and the fight between the two fish was so fierce thatneither of them paid any attention to the boat. The fishermen gaffed thehalibut and pulled him into the dory, though it nearly swamped them, forthe fish weighed over three hundred and fifty pounds. It's rather aqueer story, I think, but it is reported as official. "

Colin whistled. 

"My word!" he said. "It must have been a big one, because a halibut isflat, like a flounder, isn't it?"

"Yes, it's the largest of the flatfish. There's a record of one halibuthaving been caught weighing a trifle over five hundred pounds. Usually afish one-fifth of that size is considered large. "

"Flatfish are funny creatures, " said Colin. "I've often wondered how theeyes in various species wander around in their heads. "

"Other people have wondered, too, " said his companion. 

"Well, but we know something about it, don't we?" protested the lad. "Aren't the eyes all right in the young fish?"

"Certainly, " was the reply, "and, what's more, the young fish swimsupright. "

"How does the eye move round, then? Does the eye on one side go blindand another one grow on?"

"No, " answered his friend; "your first idea was the right one, the eyemoves round. But, as a matter of fact, it goes through the body. Theyoung flatfish is thin and almost transparent, and when it begins to betime for the eye to change from one side of the body to the other itsinks in. A thin, transparent skin grows over the socket and the eyesinks in and in, the bones moving away from before it, until it has comenear the proper place on the other side. Then a new socket opens for theeye, and it finally arrives at the end of its journey through the head, thus coming on the same side as the other eye. At the same time, too, the flatfish gets the habit of swimming on its side, and its colorscheme changes, one side--which has become the bottom--being white, while the upper side is dark and spotted to look like the stones on thebottom of the sea. "

"What do flatfish eat?"

"Everything, " was the reply, "from a clam to a codfish. But the favoritefood of the halibut, for instance, is sting-ray, and consequently it isa good friend of the oysterman; where there is plenty of halibut, therewill be few sting-rays, and these last are destructive to a goodoyster-bed. "

"It seems to me, " said Colin, "that the whole story of the seas is thatfish eat fish, while the few that escape from their own kind are gobbledup by seagulls and terns and other birds. "

"Yet, " said the other, smiling, "the birds don't have it all their ownway. Sometimes the fish gobble them!"

"Can they eat birds?"

"It's a little rare, " was the reply, "but there's one authentic case onrecord in which a fish's stomach was found to contain no less than sevenwild ducks. "

"Why, I always thought that fish had a small mouth in proportion totheir size. It must have been a monstrous big one!"

"It was not much more than four feet long, " was the reply; "but it isone of the few fishes having a huge mouth. They sometimes call it agoosefish, because it attacks wild geese, but the right name isfishing-frog or angler. It glides along the bottom until directlybeneath where ducks are feeding, and when one dives for worms in themud--you know the way ducks go down--the angler catches it by the neckand drags it down and then swallows it at leisure. You see the birdhasn't a chance, because all the angler-fish has to do is to hold ituntil it strangles. "

This led to a discussion of the food of fishes, and under the spur ofthe boy's questions, the scientist outlined for him the dietary ofalmost every fish that swims, together with all the various ways inwhich water is aerated, such as the growth of water-plants and thecurrents of streams. 

"It still seems to me, " said Colin, "that nearly every fish lives byfighting some other fish. It's a wonder, " he added, with a laugh, "thatthere aren't some professional fighters among them. "

"There are, " his friend replied; "that is to say, in the sense you mean. There's a fish which is called the fighting-fish, that is regularlytrained by the fishermen, and the combats are so famous that when one isscheduled to come off a big crowd gathers. "

"Where?" asked Colin incredulously. "That sounds a little as if youthought I was one of the marines, Dr. Jimson. "

"It is absolutely the case, " was the reply. "And, what is more, theyadvertise these fights widely and get big gate receipts, just like abaseball game here. The sum of money taken in for admissions, too, hasbecome so large that the Crown refuses to allow the fights to be heldunless a certain percentage is paid over to the king. "

"Where can that be?"

"In Siam, " was the reply. "The fighting-fish is distantly related tothe perch, but it has been used for public combats for so long that ithas become highly specialized. It is really a sort of gamecock amongfish, and the money expended in licenses in Siam brings in a comfortablerevenue to the Crown. The owner of a champion fighting-fish never needsto work for a living, he can easily be supported by the winnings of hispossession. Often a fish or a team of fishes is owned by a village andthe rivalry between communities is intense. The Siamese are inveterategamblers, also, and in more than one instance the Siamese Government hashad to send supplies to a village which was threatened with faminebecause all the villagers had lost their crops through betting upon thesuccess of their team of fighting-fish. "

"You say it's a kind of perch?"

"Only distantly, " was the reply; "it belongs to a very curious group offishes which cannot live long in the water unless they can breathe aironce in a while, nor can they live very long in air, unless they breathewater occasionally. The fish that climbs tall trees is a member of thesame sub-order. "

"You mean the skippy?"

"No, " the scientist answered; "it's a much better climber than theskippy. It will run up the trunk of a palm tree. "

"Now come, Dr. Jimson, " expostulated Colin. "Do you expect me to believethat?"

"Certainly, when it is true, " came the reply. "The statement often hasbeen made and then disbelieved, but there is plenty of scientificevidence now to arm its truth. "

"Does it climb up to the top and crack cocoa-nuts?" queried the boy, still incredulously. 

"Not quite that, " his friend said, smiling. "I believe seven feet is ashigh a climb as is known, that being recorded officially by one of thestaff of the Madras Government Central Museum. The creature usually onlyclimbs during a heavy tropical rainstorm, and it is believed that thefish, accustomed to ascending tiny streams, is stimulated to climb thetree by the rush of water flowing down the bark. The gill cover ismovable, and the spines of the ventral fins very sharp. It doesn't go uphead first, you know, but sideways. "

"How does the fish climb down, then?" queried Colin. 

"Tumbles, " was the laconic reply. 

"And starts up again?"

"No, it usually hops sideways over land to a mud-bank again, not tohave another climbing fit until the next big tropical shower comes aftera period of drought. But if you wanted to find out all the strangehabits of fishes, " continued his friend, as the schooner ran into NewBedford harbor, "it would take more time than one swordfish trip wouldgive you. "

[Illustration: CLAMMER RAKING FOR QUAHAUGS IN NEW BEDFORD HARBOR. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

[Illustration: OYSTERMAN TONGING FOR OYSTERS IN BUZZARD'S BAY. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

On the way back to Woods Hole, going down the harbor, Colin questionedthe captain of the M. B. L. Boat, the _Cayadetta_, --which happened tohave been at New Bedford that afternoon, and on which he had been giventhe courtesy of a passage--why there seemed to be two different kinds ofboats scattered over the harbor oystering. 

"That feller's not oysterin', " the captain answered; "he's rakin'quahogs. "

"Quahogs?"

"That's clams, " was the explanation; "the right name for what the peopledown in New York call a 'little-neck clam. ' The 'neck' is a foot, andit's little because the quahog doesn't burrow deep. The long or softclam does. "

"And he just pulls them up with a rake?"

"Yep, " was the reply; "big rake with curved tines to it. You see hejerks his rake along until he feels it full, then pulls it up. Now, thisfeller, over on the other side here, he's not goin' after clams at all. He's oysterin'. Ef you'll notice, he has two poles an' he works 'emapart an' together again like a pair o' shears, an' then when he feelshe has a load, he hauls it up the same way, picks out the oysters thatare big enough, an' throws the small ones back together with the stonesan' other rubbish that he has brought up. They call that 'tonging'oysters, an' the thing he uses is called the 'tongs. '"

"I've been wondering, " said Colin, as they passed over the bay and henoted again all the lobster-pot buoys which had interested him sogreatly on the way to New Bedford, "I've been wondering whether therewas any crabbing done up this way?"

"Not much, " the captain answered; "there's one caught now an' again, butall the good eatin' crabs belong further south. New Jersey's the placef'r crabs, an' I reckon most o' the soft-shell crabs o' the country comefrom there, but the business o' cannin' crabs is done way down inChesapeake Bay, where there's crabs no end. "

"A soft-shell crab is just the same species as the regular blue crab, isn't it, " asked the boy; "only it has cast its shell?"

"Jus' the same, " was the reply, "but for the market, an' there it'sworth four or five times as much. "

"When you come to think of it, " said Colin, "there isn't much in the seathat isn't fit for food. Even the swordfish is good eating. "

"There's some poisonous fish down in the tropics, " was the reply, "but Ireckon that but for a few of those, a hungry man could eat nigh anythin'that came out o' the water, fish or shellfish or anythin'. An' youknow, " he added, "some folks, like the Japanese an' South Sea Islanders, prefer 'em raw. "

"Doesn't sound good to me at all, " the boy said with a laugh, as thelittle steamer turned into the 'hole. ' "I'm satisfied to eat oysters andclams raw, but not much else. "

The rest of the month passed all too rapidly for Colin, who was becominggreatly attached to Woods Hole. The sense of accomplishment was strongthroughout the place, every one was conscious that time was well spent, and the atmosphere of the little village was one of entire content. Theboy made any number of friends, but above all, he took his greatestdelight in knowing that he had really found the work that he wanted todo, and in trying as hard as he could to fit himself for it. Every dayhe spent in the Bureau he saw more clearly the value of the work it haddone and the opportunities for other great advances. The exportation oflive fish to foreign streams had a great attraction for him. 

"You know, Colin, " the director said to him one day, when he wasspeaking of the Bureau work, "all over the world there are fish which weought to be able to acclimatize in American waters, and there areAmerican fish which would thrive abroad. It has always been an idea ofmine that we could probably prevent famines in large parts of Asia bylooking after the fish supply. You hardly ever find a bad crop and a badfish year come together, the one always makes up for the other. Justthink what a gain it would have been in some of these Chinese and Indianfamines if they could have had all the fish they wanted. Millions oflives could have been saved. The Bureau of Fisheries of this and othercountries won't have finished its work until every river and stream offresh water, every lake, and every square mile of the ocean is stockedwith the very finest of the food fishes, and the undesirables are weededout. "

"Weeded out, like a garden?"

"Just exactly! Every hogfish and lamprey in American waters--that's anear-fish that sucks the blood of other fish, you know--should beexterminated just in the same way that the farmers of the country aremaking away with the Canada thistle. Against the sharks--the tigers ofthe sea, the killers--the wolves of the sea, and all the other predatoryforms, relentless war should be waged until the wild fishes of the seaare destroyed, as the wild beasts of the forest have fled before theface of man. "

"Could that ever be done?"

"It will be done, " the director answered, "but not in my time nor inyours. It is a piece of work in which every step counts, and just onesummer's work may bring results that will help millions of people in theyears yet to come. "

"And I shall have a share!" cried Colin, his enthusiasm kindling. 

"Every one has a share; in the Fisheries, no work is wasted, no energyis lost. Whether it be such research as that which you have seen medoing upon the oyster drill, or the spectacular administration of theseal herds on the Pribilof Islands, or the dry statistical work ofestimating the value of a fishery--on which work Dr. Crafts writes mehe is going to send you--each part has its place and a big place. Theaims of the Bureau are on so vast a scale that nothing is petty. Wethink in terms of millions and tens of millions, and Nature responds. There are more showy ways of helping the world, but for theaccomplishment of great results I know of none superior. "

"You said, sir, " said Colin, who had been startled by the reference tohimself, "that Dr. Crafts had some other work for me?"

"Yes, " was the reply. "You know that the Laboratory here only keeps openuntil the first of September, don't you?"

"Yes, Mr. Prelatt. "

"What had you thought of doing between then and college?"

"I hadn't made any plans. "

"I have a letter from the Deputy Commissioner, here, " the directorcontinued, "in which he asks me if there is any one of the young fellowswhom I have had for the summer who would like to go with one of thestatistical field agents, and he suggests your name, should you wish togo. It will be a short stay, not more than ten days or so, and won'tinterfere with your getting back to college. "

"I should like to go, ever so much, " said Colin, "and I think it'sawfully good of Dr. Crafts to think of me. "

"Very well, then, " answered the director; "I'll write to him about it. Ithought you would accept, unless you had made other plans. "

"I don't think I know much about the statistical side of the Bureau, "said Colin; "just what does that take up?"

"Statistics mainly, but I can explain its value best by what I know ithas done, " the director said thoughtfully. "One of the very best thingsit accomplished, I think, was an investigation into the cause of theheavy loss of life among the crews of New England fishing-vessels. "

"What was the cause, sir?"

"The statistical division of the Bureau ascribed a great many of thefatalities to badly-built vessels, so that a number of them foundered atsea in bad weather. "

"How could the Bureau help that?"

"It did help it wonderfully, " the director answered. "A thoroughinvestigation was set on foot and all kinds of vessels examined. Theexperts of the country were consulted and hundreds of models made tofind out just which was the most seaworthy. The fishing-fleets of allthe world were visited, and as a result a schooner was built and calledthe _Grampus_, which became a model for all that was most to be desiredin fishing-vessels. The boat-builders of the country since then havefollowed that type, and the loss of life from vessels of the _Grampus_type in the last ten years has been less than one-fourth of that fromthe older vessels in the ten years preceding. From the port ofGloucester alone, this has meant in the ten years a saving of over sixhundred lives. "

"That's getting results!" said Colin admiringly. 

"And the commercial results, while they don't compare in importance withthe saving of life, of course, are even bigger. The winter cod-fisheryof New England was absolutely revolutionized by the introduction ofgill-nets with glass-ball floats, the catch becoming three times aslarge, while at least one hundred thousand dollars was saved annually inthe single item of bait. Scores of new fishing-grounds have beenlocated, and apparatus has been devised which enables the fishermen toexploit grounds which they previously had been unable to reach. 

[Illustration: TESTING THE OCEAN'S CROP. 

Experimental haul on the Bureau's vessel, the _Fish Hawk_, to determinethe character of the population of shore waters. 

_Courtesy of the U. S. Bureau of Fisheries. _]

"There are so many different things being accomplished that it's hard toname them all, but you can see for yourself that some one has got tocollect the figures on fisheries in order to determine how the industryis progressing. If a town reports a bad season, when all the other portshave been fortunate, the Bureau finds out why. If the catch of a certainfish is decreasing all over the country, then this species must beturned over to the fish culturists for artificial hatching and increaseof supply, and so on in a thousand directions. The statistical end hasto get the figures. We base all our work on those. "

"I wonder what I shall have to do?" said Colin, with a note of query. 

"That I don't know anything about, " the director answered. "As directorof the Biological Laboratory, I'm on the scientific division, and reallycan't tell you much about the cultural and statistical ends. Iunderstand, however, that the Deputy Commissioner plans to send you tothe mackerel fishery. "

"From Gloucester, Mr. Prelatt?"

"No, from Boston. At least that is where you are to meet Mr. Roote. Rather a full review of the mackerel fishery has been made, so Isuppose this is some special inquiry. The regular statistics of Bostonand Gloucester fish-markets are so important that local agents areappointed to make monthly reports. You have not been called on much forextra collecting recently, have you?"

"No, sir, " answered Colin; "almost all the research workers have enoughspecimens for the work they're doing, because it's too near the end ofthe time to start any new details. So I haven't much to do except tolook after the trap. "

"We'll get a few days together on the oyster drill, then, " said thedirector, "before you go away. "

When the time came for Colin to leave Woods Hole he found himself mostreluctant to go, and he rather regretted that he had accepted themackerel fishery investigation, because he saw that he could have gotpermission to work on with Mr. Prelatt for a week or two. But the matterhad been arranged, and when the boy arrived in Boston, he was alert withthe interest of a new experience. 

The statistician was a silent man. He greeted Colin with few words andeyed him critically. 

"Hm! You can handle a boat?"

"Yes, sir, " said Colin in surprise. 

"Get aboard the _Shiner_ at seven-thirty to-morrow, at the dock next toGray's, " and he nodded his head and walked off, leaving Colin to stareafter him. 

"Well, " the boy said aloud, "that's short enough and clear enough, onlyI don't happen to know where Gray's is!"

A little questioning around the waterfront, however, enabled him to findthe vessel, and as the lad had been in Boston a couple of times before, the search was not long. The _Shiner_ hailed from Gloucester and was"the real thing, " as Colin said under his breath. One hundred and twelvefeet long she was, with an air, as she sat on the water, of knowingevery little wickedness of the ocean and understanding the way toconquer it too; her mainmast cleared eighty-five feet, and was steppedwell forward, with a boom that Colin did not overestimate greatly whenhe put it at eighty feet. Although the boy was not a keen judge, hethought the bowsprit immensely long, and noticed what a narrow nose theseiner possessed. 

Early the next morning she put out. The weather was ugly, but thecaptain of the _Shiner_ was a Gloucester fisherman, and he went slapdown Boston Harbor with every inch of canvas set alow and aloft. Theseiner lay well over on her side, and Colin, while he had often sailedin small boats with the lee rail under, found it a new sensation to gotearing along at such speed. He knew nothing of his new chief, and stolea glance at him, finding the statistician smoking a pipe with entireunconcern. 

Colin smiled to himself. For a moment he had forgotten, the statisticianwas a Bureau man, too. The _Shiner_ sped out to sea, cleaving the waterat thirteen knots an hour easily, although her thirty-six-footseine-boat was towing after her. 

"She certainly can sail, Mr. Roote!" exclaimed the boy, but he only gota grunt in reply. 

The evening of the third day had come before Colin gained any idea as tothe purpose of this trip. He saw that it would be no use askingquestions, and waited until he should be told what he was to do. In themeantime, he was enjoying the sail immensely, for the craft seemedinstinct with life, and Colin learned from the other fishermen aboardthat she was one of the fastest vessels out of Gloucester. Colin hadsettled himself under the blankets for the night and just dropped offto sleep when there came a hail from the masthead. 

"Fish! Lyin' nor'-nor'-east. "

Every man stirred in his bunk, but none made a move. Colin, who hadwakened instantly with muscles tense and ready to spring out, followedthe example of the others round him, and waited. Indeed he dropped offto sleep again, when the voice of the captain came from the wheel:

"Pass the word to oil up. "

There was no need to say "Pass the word, " for every man below heard theorder, and tumbled up at once, sliding into sea-boots, oilskins, andsou'westers. Most of the men lighted a pipe, and one or two took a'mug-up' from the coffee-kettle. Evidently the mackerel were not faraway, for in less than five minutes the captain called again:

"All on deck!"

Up the ladder went the fishermen with a rush. There was not a starvisible, and the night was as black as though the ship were plunginginto a cave. Even the phosphorescence or 'fire' at the ship's bow wasnot especially brilliant, and Colin tumbled over half a dozen differentthings in as many yards on deck, while only the fact that he hadsea-boots on saved him from barking his shins on the fore-hatch. 

"Drop over the dory, haul up the boat!"

The commands came ringing out sharply. Colin had been aboard aman-of-war, but there was no such discipline as this. The words werescarcely spoken, when four of the men had the dory over the starboardrail, while eight of the men tailed on to the painter of the seine-boatand brought it to the port fore-rigging. 

"Tops'l halyards. Lively now!"

With a rattle and whir the two great sails went soaring up in thedarkness, and the _Shiner_ leaped forward, her lee rail almost flush tothe sea. 

"She's a great boat, " said Colin to one of the men near him; "Ishouldn't have thought she could have stood the tops'ls. "

The fisherman looked at him. 

"Jerry Fitzgerald is the skipper o' this craft, " he said, "an' he's gotthe reputation o' carryin' all canvas in a full gale. See the lightsaround us?"

"I saw one or two, " Colin answered. "Other seiners?"

"O' course, an' do you think Jerry's goin' to lose a chance o' theschool because o' canvas? Wait a bit an' you'll see!"

Not a minute had passed by before another order came. 

"Give her the stays'l. Run up the balloon, too!"

Colin gasped, but he lent a hand. As the _Shiner_ felt the added sailshe poked her nose in and took the water green. But the narrow buildforward threw off the load, and she rose like a duck. The seiner wascarrying a fearful press of sail, but she stood up stiffly under it, allthe red and green lights of the other seiners falling astern; it wasevident that the skipper meant to keep them there. Before long, occasional flashes of light, being the phosphorescence churned up by thetails of a pod of mackerel, could be seen from the deck. 

"Into the boat!" cried the skipper. 

For just a second Colin hesitated, but he saw Mr. Roote go into theseine-boat and he followed immediately. The seine-master, who had beenaloft, came down with a rush. Colin could hear the rustle of theoilskins as he partly touched the stays, but he landed on the deck witha 'thump' as great as though he had leaped down the last ten feet. Theseine-boat was dropping astern as fast as one of the crew, who remainedon deck, could pay out the painter, but the seine-master gave no heed tothe rapid departure of the boat. He took half a dozen quick steps to thestern and leaped over the quarter, judging the distance so accuratelythat he landed fair on the foremost thwart of the seine-boat as shedropped astern, a couple of the men catching him as he jumped. 

"Easy on the painter!" he cried. Then, next moment:

"Stand by the dory, " as the smaller of the boats, with two men aboard, came sliding by and was almost thrown on top of the seine-boat by across-sea. 

There came a fire of orders from the captain, which Colin could hardlyfollow, and he wondered how the helmsman and one man on deck could keepup with them. 

"Ease off the main-sheet! Dave, "--that was the man at the wheel, --"swingher away a bit. Steady there! Slack the foretops'l and stays'l halyards. Lively now! Jibe her over, Dave! Down with the balloon, there! Quick asthe Lord'll let you! Over she comes! Stand by in the boat and dory! Keepher down, Dave! Down, man, down! It's a good school. "

There was a moment's pause. 

"You in the boat and dory?"

"All ready, sir, " answered the seine-master. 

"Ready, dory?"

"All ready. "

"Hard up, Dave! Steady a little. A little! Don't you know what a littleis? Ready in the boat, there! Steady with that wheel! Now you've gother. You in the boat, there. Got that new-fangled net ready?"

"Ready, " cried the statistician shortly. Then Colin understood. The tripwas for the purpose of testing out a new net devised by the Bureau andthe Fisheries man was a net expert. No wonder he knew a boat!

"Stand by the boat. Ready, the dory! When I give the word! Hold on a bitwith the painter! Now let her go! You in the dory there, show yourlantern! All your own way now!"

Colin tugged at his oar. Never, in all his experience in rowing, had hetackled anything like an oar of that size, but he pulled for all he wasworth, and a glow ran through him to feel that he was holding up hisend. The light dory with two men aboard, came racing after them. It wasnearly a half-mile pull before the seine-master cried:

"Over with the buoy!"

And the buoy was tossed overboard for the dory to pick up and hold towindward. 

Then the silent Fisheries officer got busy. Without a word, he reachedfor the net. It was made of a lighter twine than customary, and notthickly tarred, having also different corks to the usual type, andsinkers all over the net. It looked like a fearfully complicated thingto handle and Roote was a small man, but that net went flying out asthough tossed by a giant. 

"You're a jim-dandy with the twine, all right, " said the seine-masteradmiringly. He turned to the rowers, "Put your backs into it, boys, " hesaid; "drive her for all you know how. We've got to give this newcontraption a fair chance. "

"How much net out now, sir?" he asked the statistician in a few minutes. 

"Quarter of a mile, " was the reply. 

"Shall we close in then, eh?"

"You'd better. "

The seine-master, feeling that the school of mackerel had been inclosed, turned the seine-boat towards the dory and, under the powerful arms ofthe fishermen, the circle was soon completed. It was a perfect set. 

The wind had been rising rapidly, and just as the seine-boat reached thedory a sharp rain squall struck. But the cry was, "Purse up!" for untila seine is partly pursed up, there is no telling whether the fish arereally in or not. For a moment, however, it was almost impossible topurse up, the wind and rain were beating so savagely. 

"Pull!" said Roote, suiting the action to the word, and all hands joinedhim. The net was light, far lighter than the old fishermen's nets, andthere was more than one audible comment to the effect that the net wouldbreak, and that it was too bad they hadn't one of the old-style netsaround the school, but the pursing in continued, and the net showed nosigns of breakage. Presently first one, then another, fish flashed abovethe water, and a minute later the shine of the mackerel showed, and thenthe whole school, including thousands of fish, rose in a body to thesurface, beating the water with their forked tails, and threshing in madconfusion from side to side. 

The seine-master turned to the Fisheries official with a good deal ofconcern. 

"That's a big haul, " he said; "will your net stand it?"

There was no hesitation in the reply. 

"Yes, " he said. 

"Then I'm willin' to admit, " said the seine-master, "that you win. I'dnever ha' believed that you could get as big a net as light as that an'able to hold the fish. That'll save us fishermen a pile o' labor. "

But the official was not to be tempted into talk, even on the questionof his own invention. He simply nodded, and went on pursing in. Presently the _Shiner_ came pelting down the breeze, still carryingquite a bit of canvas, there being not enough hands on board to reef. The weather was getting dirtier every minute. 

"Hello there the boat!" hailed the captain. 

"All right, " the seine-master called back. "A couple o' hundredbarrels. "

"Net holding?"

"Looks like it. "

"Better get on board soon's you can, " the captain advised; "we may havea bit of a blow. "

Colin thought to himself that there was a great deal more than a "bit ofa blow" at the time, but he said nothing. The worst of it was the waythe rain came pelting down, for it was as thick as a fog, anddispiriting. It was a cold rain, too, and although it was September, thenortheast gale was chill. Colin shivered in his oilskins. The pursing indone, the seine-master waved a torch, but it could not be seen in therain. 

"It's a good thing we've got a cap'n like Jerry on board, boys, " saidthe seine-master. "He'll have to smell us out, because he can't seeanythin'. "

But it was a longer wait than any one expected, for the schooner hadfaded into the rain and could not be seen. Suddenly a hail was heard, and the _Shiner_ passed to leeward of the boats, dimly visible. Everyone shouted, and an answering cry came back. 

"He'll beat up to wind'ard a bit an' then pick us up, " said theseine-master cheerfully. 

Colin wondered how any man could run a schooner about in a gale of windand come back to a certain spot, but he need not have been incredulous, for in about five minutes' time the _Shiner_ came sliding down as thoughto run over the boats, being thrown up into the wind in the nick oftime. As the schooner settled beside the boat, all the men but twostreamed aboard her, one remaining at the bow, to shackle the seine-boatto the iron that hung from the hook at the fore-rigging on the portside, while the other, grabbing hold of the long steering-oar, did hisbest to fend off the stern. The seine, thus being between the boat andthe schooner, was held by Roote and the seine-master. Colin climbedaboard with the rest of the men, and within two minutes' time, the bigdip-net--which would hold a barrel at a time--was scooped in among thefish. 

Ten or eleven times the dip-net had descended and come up full of fish, and the work was proceeding rapidly in spite of the pitching and heavingof the vessel, when suddenly every one was stopped by the long wail of afoghorn near by. Not a sound of one had been heard before, and all handswere so busy that the direction from which the sound came had not beennoted. Exactly half a minute elapsed. 

Then mournfully and very close, the long "Who-o-o-o" sounded almost uponthem, and the captain sprang to the wheel. As he set a hand upon thespokes and spun them round, a tall gray ship towered above them from theside on which was the seine-boat, and seemed to hang poised a moment onthe crest of a sea before the final crash. Colin, who was leaning overthe rail watching the dipping of the net, was able to see everything. The fisherman at the bow of the seine-boat jumped for the boom andclasped it safely. Then, as the sailing vessel lurched upon them, theboy noted that the seine-master and the fisherman at the stern of theseine-boat leaped for the martingale shrouds and held them. 

But that instant's delay, as the bark had seemed to be poised upon thewave, had been enough for the _Shiner_. Having her canvas up, thefraction of time gave her the chance to answer to her helm, and she spunround like a teetotum, seeming almost to wriggle from under the bow ofthe ship like a live creature. Roote, the only one left in theseine-boat, had been the last to see the oncoming ship. He gave onequick look upward, and plunged from the seine-boat into the sea. Evenso, the chances were in his favor, but as he touched the water the shipcrashed into the seine-boat, and a piece of the wreckage hit him on thehead. 

It all happened in a flash, but at the instant that he was struck, Colin, still in his oilskins and sea-boots, dived into the water. Fortunately, he cleared the vortex. In a few seconds Roote came up, andColin grabbed him by the hair. The statistician was insensible, whichmade matters easier for the boy. But the oilskins and sea-boots were animpossible load, and it was only by great exertion that he managed atlast to get them off and still keep Roote afloat. Soon after thisrelief, too, the statistician showed signs of life, and aftersuccessfully fending off a struggle, Colin succeeded in getting theinjured man to rest his weight on him in the least tiring manner. 

"I don't swim much, " said the net expert. "How about you? How long canyou keep afloat?"

"Long enough twice over for them to find us, " said Colin cheerfully. "I'm a regular fish in the water. "

But the boy soon found out that it was a far different thing swimmingunder normal conditions and really having to battle for his life in afair seaway. Roote, too, soon relapsed once more into unconsciousness, and the boy had to support his weight. He was a swimmer, a championswimmer, and it was rather a shock to him to find how difficult it waseven to keep afloat. He realized how valueless a casual knowledge ofswimming would be for use in the open sea. 

He had not been more than half an hour in the water when his strengthbegan to fail. He swam around expecting to find some piece of wreckagewhich would aid him, but not a thing could he see. His arms grew heavyand his feet hung down as though leaded weights were fastened to them. Black spots began to dance before his eyes, and Roote's weight became atorture. But he still hung on and kept afloat. 

An hour passed of buffeting with the sea, and the boy began to growlight-headed. He had swallowed quite a little salt water, and presentlyhe began singing, although he had a feeling as though a double self toldhim not to sing. A choking took his throat and startled him into fullconsciousness. He had nearly been down that time! But the training ofyears stood him in good stead now that he needed it, and he still swamon. 

Then he began to dream. Once or twice he came to himself and smiledsadly to think that this was the end of all his hopes in the Bureau ofFisheries, but this consciousness did not last for more than a minutebefore he fell dreaming again, still, however, swimming heavily andkeeping afloat. And it seemed to him that the last and the most real ofhis dreams was that a boat came by. But this, he thought, must bedrowning and it was not hard to drown, to dream of being rescued and togo down, down, down, to the cold, strange tideless depths of sea fromwhich no one ever comes up alive. Still, there was the boat in hisdream, but it had come too late, and it seemed to Colin, that with hislast effort he pushed Roote toward the outstretched arms of the men inthe boat, waved a feeble farewell and sank. The water gurgled in hisears, there was a horrible strangulation, he tried to cry out, his lungsfilled with water, and he knew no more. 

Hours passed. Then, with a sense of suddenly arriving from a far-offplace, Colin opened his eyes. He was in the cabin of a ship, and despitehis exhaustion, he tried to rouse himself at the sound of voices. Roote, and another man, the captain of the bark, were standing beside his bunk. 

"He's a plucky youngster, as well as a great swimmer, " he heard thecaptain say. "Who is he?"

And Colin heard the other reply, with a note of pride in his voice:

"That's Colin Dare. He's one of our men. We think a lot of him in theBureau of Fisheries!"

And the boy, wanly, but happily smiling, fell into a deep but healthysleep. 

THE END