"What made 'em upset?" asked Laddie.

"Rough water. There's going to be a storm and the ocean gets rough just before that," George explained.

The children watched the men swimming about the overturned boat, and noticed that the water all about them was filled with floating, dead fish.

"Did the men kill the fish when they upset?" asked Violet.

"No, the men got the fish out of their nets," explained George, who had been at the seash.o.r.e every summer that he could remember. "There are the nets out where you see those poles," and he pointed to a place about a half mile off sh.o.r.e. "The men go out there in a big motor-boat," he went on, "and pull up the net. They empty the fish into the bottom of the boat and then they come ash.o.r.e. They put the fish in barrels with a lot of ice and send them to New York.

"But sometimes when the boat tries to come up on the beach with the men and a load of fish in it the waves in the surf are so big that the boat upsets. That's what this one did. I was watching it and I saw it. Then I came to tell you, 'cause I saw you playing on the sand."

"I'm glad you did," said Russ. "I'm sorry the men got upset, but I like to see 'em."

"So am I. Will they lose all their fish?" demanded Laddie.

"Most of 'em," said George. "They can scoop up some in nets, I guess, but a lot that wasn't quite dead swam away and the waves took the others out to sea. The fish hawks will get 'em and lots of boys and men are taking fish home. The fishermen can't save 'em all and when a boat upsets anybody that wants to, keeps the fish."

After hard work the men who had been tossed into the water when the boat went over managed to get it right side up again. Then a rope was made fast to it and horses on sh.o.r.e, pulling on the cable, hauled the boat up out of reach of the waves, where it would stay until it was time to make another trip to the nets.

"Could we take some of the fish?" asked Russ of George.

"Oh, yes, as many as you like," said his friend. "The fishermen can never pick them all up."

So the six little Bunkers each picked up a fish and took it home to Cousin Ruth. They were nice and fresh and she cooked them for dinner.

"Well, you youngsters had better luck than Cousin Tom and I had," said Daddy Bunker with a laugh as he saw what Russ and the others had picked up. "I guess, after this, we'll take you fishing with us."

The promise of the storm brought by the big waves that upset the fishing-boat, came true. That night the wind began to rise and to blow with a howling and mournful sound about the bungalow. But inside it was cosy and light.

In the morning, when the children awakened, it was raining hard, the drops dashing against the windows as though they wanted to break the gla.s.s and get inside.

"Is the sea very rough now, Daddy?" asked Russ after breakfast.

"Yes, I think it is," was the answer. "Would you like to see it?"

Russ thought he would, and Laddie wanted to go also, but his mother said he was too small to go out in the storm.

"It is a bad storm," said Cousin Tom. "I saw a fisherman as I was coming back from the village this morning early and he said he never felt a worse blow. The sea is very high."

Daddy Bunker and Cousin Tom put on "oilskins," that is, suits of cloth covered with a sort of yellow rubber, through which the water could not come.

A small suit with a hat of the same kind, called a "sou'wester," was found for Russ, and then the three started down for the beach. It was hard work walking against the wind, which came out of the northeast, and the rain stung Russ in the face so that he had to walk with his head down most of the time and let his father and Cousin Tom lead him.

"Oh, what big waves!" cried Russ as he got within sight of the beach.

And indeed the surf was very high. The tide was in and this, with the force of the wind, sent the big billows crashing up on the beach with a noise like thunder.

"I guess no fishermen could go out in that, could they, Daddy?" asked the little boy.

"No, indeed, Son! This weather is bad for the fishermen and all who are at sea," said Mr. Bunker.

They remained looking at the heavy waves for some time and then went back to the house. Russ was glad to be indoors again, away from the blow and noise of the storm.

"Do you often have such blows here?" asked Mother Bunker of Cousin Ruth.

"Well, I haven't been here, at this beach, very long, but almost always toward the end of August and the beginning of September there are hard storms at the sh.o.r.e."

It rained so hard that the six little Bunkers could not go out to play and Cousin Ruth and their mother had to make some amus.e.m.e.nt for them in the bungalow.

"Have you ever been up in the attic?" asked Cousin Ruth.

"No!" cried the six little Bunkers.

"Well, you may play up there," said Cousin Ruth. "It isn't very big, but you can pretend it is a playhouse and do as you please."

With shouts of joy the children hurried up to the attic. Indeed it was a small place. But the six little Bunkers liked it. There were so many little holes into which they could crawl away and hide.

The four who liked to play with dolls brought up their j.a.panese toys, and Russ and Laddie found some of their playthings, so they had lots of fun in the bungalow attic. Cousin Ruth gave them something to eat and they played they were shipwrecked sailors part of the time. With the wind howling outside and the rain beating down on the roof, it was very easy to pretend this.

The storm lasted three days, and toward the end the grown folks in Cousin Tom's bungalow began to wish it would stop, not only because they were tired of the wind and rain, but because the children were fretting to be out.

At last the wind died down, the rain ceased and the sun shone. Out rushed the six little Bunkers with gladsome shouts. Laddie and Russ had some large toy shovels which their mother had bought them.

"What are you going to do?" Rose asked her two older brothers as she saw them hurrying down to the beach when the sun was out.

"We're going to make a sand fort and have a battle," answered Russ. "The sand will pack fine now 'cause it's so wet. We're going to make a big sand fort."

And he and Laddie began this play. Something very strange was to come from it, too.

CHAPTER XXIV

A MYSTERIOUS ENEMY

"Here's a good place to make the fort," said Russ as he and Laddie reached the beach not far from Cousin Tom's bungalow and looked about them. "We'll build the fort right here, Laddie, near this hill of sand."

"What's the hill for?"

"That's where we can put our flag. They always put a flag on a hill where everybody can see it."

"But we haven't a flag. Where are we going to get one?"

"Say, you ask almost as many questions as Vi," exclaimed Russ. "We'll _make_ a flag!"

"How?"

"Out of a handkerchief. You've a handkerchief and so have I. One is enough for both of us and we can take the other and make a flag of it."