272 



The American Angler, 



watching them lazily, between the blue 

 curls of our tobacco smoke, when Mac 

 remarked that they had got a breeze. 

 Sure enough, and it was not long before 

 it reached us and we were gliding along, 

 the water rippling and dashing from 

 the lola's square bows. To increase 

 our speed, we hove to and hauled the 

 skiff on board. After a little the wind 

 began to freshen, and by the time we 

 were opposite the beautiful little city of 

 Rockport we had a fresh breeze from 

 the south, and the lola was smashing 

 into the waves and sending the spray 

 flying along the deck. About this time 

 we sighted two fishing boats from Rock- 

 port, evidently bound for the bayou. 

 Fermin declared that he knew them, 

 and that we would catch them before 

 they reached the bayou. 



But "Man proposes and God dis- 

 poses." The skipper's estimate of the 

 relative speed of the boats was evident- 

 ly correct, for we were rapidly gaining 

 on them both as we neared Long Reef. 

 This reef extends from St. Joseph's 

 Island almost to the mainland across 

 the bay, and is above the water only in 

 spots. It is covered with oyster shells, 

 and looks as though countless genera- 

 tions of oysters had built up the reef 

 from the bottom. We were congratu- 

 lating Fermin on his skill and the speed 

 of the boat, when Will Bickenbaugh's 

 hat, with a derisive twist, gently raised 

 itself from his head, evaded his frantic 

 clutches, and landed softly on the crest 

 of a whitecap. To a tenderfoot this 

 might seem an ordinary matter, but it 

 was not; it was a catastrophy. Of 

 course, we had extra hats, but not 

 broad-brimmed ones, and although this 

 particular hat might have been worth 

 "cinco centavo, " as Fermin put it, 

 still it was invaluable to Will, for, al- 

 thotfgh the temperature is delightful, 



the glare of the sun is sure to blister 

 the unprotected face before its unfor- 

 tunate owner is aware of it. 



That hat floated there on the green 

 water, so near, and yet — well, we 

 didn't get it so easy, after all. 



The lola was brought about, and 

 with everyone but the helmsman on 

 the "low side," reaching for that head- 

 gear, we sailed by it, just missing it. 

 Again the manoeuvre was repeated, and 

 this time, as I reached for it with the 

 gaff, that old hat stuck up its nose at 

 me and dodged out of the way. Twice 

 more we attempted it, but at the fifth 

 trial it was gathered in and restored to 

 its anxious owner. 



Fermin afterward declared that that 

 hat was " one bad luck," and we agreed 

 with him, for we had occasion to before 

 many hours. 



As we watched the reef, it seemed as 

 though it would be impossible to pass 

 it, but the lola only draws twenty 

 inches, and she slipped across without 

 once touching bottom, except with her 

 center-board. 



After we had passed the reef, the 

 bay seemed filled with islands, and a 

 beautiful scene they made. The wild 

 Spanish dagger and salt cedar, mingled 

 with the bright green of the coral 

 berry bushes, made handsome bits of 

 color, with the blue sky and green water 

 for a background. These islands were 

 so close together, and the channels so 

 narrow, that, as the lola flew through 

 them, the suction created by her pas- 

 sage drew the water away from theii* 

 beaches, and left many a flounder and 

 mullet high and dry for a moment 

 where before he was covered with a 

 foot of water. Just as we left the last 

 of these channels, Fermin told us that 

 we were near the oyster reefs, and, of 

 course, we Could not pass them without 



