Frank Merriwell's Cruise Part 49

THE CLAMBAKE.

As Bold Island harbor was sheltered and the yacht could lay close in to the sh.o.r.e of Devil Island and be so hidden that she would escape observation to a large extent, Frank ran in there, choosing that anchorage in preference to the one in the cove on the other side of the island of mystery.

It was near low tide when Merry ran in there, and he did not stop till the keel of the _White Wings_ stuck fast in the mud at the bottom.

"I thought you were getting in too near," said Hodge.

"Not getting in near enough to suit me," declared Frank. "The bottom is soft here, and the yacht would sit up straight in the mud if the tide ran out so that she was left high and dry. It is low water now. At high water she will float all right and have any amount of water under her keel."

As soon as everything was attended to on the yacht, Frank cried:

"Come on, fellows, let's row over to Bold Island and see if we can find some of her famous clams. We may not get another opportunity like this."

"Oh, what's the use," yawned Browning, sleepily. "Too much trouble. I'm going below and turn in."

"I will stay to look after the yacht while Browning gets his nap," said Hodge.

Diamond was ready to go with Frank, and Merry asked Hans to come along.

They had purchased a clam hoe at the Landing, so they were prepared to hunt the shy and retiring clam.

"Vale," said Hans, sadly, "I vill go mit you, poys, but I don'd peen aple to took no bleasure mit der shob since I vos caldt an Irishman. I don'd pelief you vill efer got ofer dot."

He looked very sad and downcast, as if he were nearly, heartbroken, causing Merry to laugh softly.

The three got into the boat and pulled over to Bold Island, where they began searching for the clams that have made the island famous throughout Pen.o.bscot Bay.

It was some time before they could find any clams, for the beach had been dug over and over till it did not seem there was a place left untouched. At last Frank turned over a large, flat rock, and down in the sand beneath it they struck their first clam. That clam, measured in its sh.e.l.l, was exactly seven inches long and a little more than five inches wide, while the sh.e.l.l itself was almost as white as the sh.e.l.l of an egg.

When Merry turned up this clam, Hans staggered and sat down on the sand with great violence, and there he sat, staring and muttering:

"Vot der tyrful vos dot? Uf dot don'd peen der varter uf all glams, you vos a liar! I don'd pelief I efer seen anyding like dot pefore in all your p.o.r.n tays!"

"Hurrah!" cried Merry. "Here's proof the fishermen down this way are not all liars, or do not lie about everything. They told me this was the kind of game we should find here."

"But this must be unusual," said Diamond. "Can't all of them be like this."

"They say so."

"Well, they cannot be very good to eat. They must be too tough."

"On the contrary, I have heard they are splendid eating. Here is another! By Jove, it's fully as large as the first!"

Hans sat still on the sand and stared straight at the first clam turned out. Frank looked at him and saw the Dutch boy appeared on the verge of bursting into tears.

"What's the matter, Dunnerwust?" he asked.

"I vos peginnin' to seen things queer," replied Hans. "Vot do I think?

Vale, uf dot glam don'd look like der mug an Irishman of, you vos a liar! Uf I kept on seein' things like dot to remindt me vot dot man in gray said, id vill drife me to trink ur to sluicide!"

They had brought along a bucket, and it did not take long to fill it with these large clams. Then they emptied it into the bottom of the boat and found another bucketful before stopping. With those they returned to the boat.

"We will go ash.o.r.e on Devil Island, where there are plenty of rocks of all kinds, and seaweed, and there we'll have a clambake," said Merry.

"There is wood enough on Devil Island, too, and it is nearer to the yacht."

The sound of their oars brought Hodge on deck.

"What luck?" he asked, as they approached.

"Great luck," answered Frank. "Get in, and we will take you ash.o.r.e over yonder, where we are going to have a clam roast."

The clam hoe was pa.s.sed up to Bart, and then he swung down into the boat, and soon all were ash.o.r.e on the island of mystery.

Frank began constructing an oven amid the rocks, sending the others for fuel and seaweed. It did not take long to make preparations for the bake, and soon a roaring fire was blazing, as a lot of dry wood had been found near the deserted camps on that side of the island.

Frank took the clams down to the water and washed them carefully, a bucketful at a time, turning them all into the hollow of a large rock near the fire.

As the fire grew hotter, Merry threw stones into it and kept it roaring. None of the stones were smaller than a man's fist, and some were larger than a man's head.

"Why are you doing that?" asked Hodge.

"You will see when the time comes," smiled Frank.

Hans sat on a rock and stared into the fire, his air of dejection being extremely ludicrous to behold.

"Come, come, forget it!" exclaimed Merry. "Cheer up and be like yourself."

"I can nefer peen like yourseluf again so long as I had this face onto me," sighed Hans. "Id peen a vrightful thing to think dot I might peen misdooken any dime an Irishmans vor! Dunder und blitzens! I vos all proken ub in peesness ofer dot!"

It was useless to try to cheer him up. The more they talked to him the sadder and more downcast he looked.

After a while Frank had burned out nearly all the wood, and nothing was left but a dying fire. He did not wait for it to die down, but raked away everything but the red-hot coals and some of the stones in the fireplace of stone. Then he took the wet seaweed and threw it into the fireplace, where it began to sizzle and steam.

"In with the clams, boys!" he cried, as he began to toss the big fellows in upon the seaweed.

They helped him, and soon all the clams were scattered on the steaming seaweed. Then he covered them with more seaweed, and, aided by the others, piled the hot rocks he had drawn out of the fireplace on top of this ma.s.s of seaweed.

What a sizzling and steaming there was, and what a delightful odor came to their nostrils! Quickly Frank had another fire going, and by this he kept hot a ma.s.s of rocks he had heated in the first fire, but had not piled upon the seaweed. In this way, by the time the rocks on the weed were cooled off, more rocks were ready to take their place, and the clams were kept steaming.

After a time, Merriwell announced that the clams must be nearly done. He sent Hans off to the yacht to bring Browning ash.o.r.e. The Dutch boy found it difficult to arouse the big Yale man, but Browning was fond of clams, and he came along quickly enough once he was fully awake and understood what awaited him.

As the boat reached sh.o.r.e, Merriwell began to rake the rocks off the seaweed.

"Ye G.o.ds!" grunted Bruce, sniffing the air as he approached. "What heavenly aroma is this that greets my nostrils?"

When the clams were uncovered and he saw them with their huge sh.e.l.ls yawning and the meat within looking white and tempting, he declared he was very happy to be living.

"Gather round, fellows," said Frank, "Capture your clams and devour them. There will be no ceremony in this case."