Colin was conscious inwardly that he would have preferred to have nothing at all to do with the repulsive object, but as he had come out in pursuit of an octopus, he would not, for the world, have shown the white feather before the boatman.

"Yes, unless we find a bigger," he said, with an overdone a.s.sumption of ease.

"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 remembering the timidity he had shown when clutched by the squid, Colin felt that this was the chance to redeem himself.

"I don't mind taking it," he said. "You say these things are quite harmless."

"Quite, sair, I t'ink," the boatman replied.

"All right," was the boy's rejoinder, and he walked forward boldly toward the octopus. The green eyes regarded him steadily, and just as the boy stooped to grasp the slimy body, it seemed to gather itself in a heap and started for the sea.

This was an unexpected move, but Colin, having stated that he wanted that octopus, did not propose to be cheated out of it. He was surprised that the cuttlefish could move so fast, and his repugnance gave way to excitement as he started running after the writhing eight-armed creature. He was just about to grab it when he tripped on a rock, covered with slippery seaweed, and fell headlong, the fall throwing him immediately upon the octopus. For a moment the boy was staggered, and he never knew whether he had grabbed the cephalopod or whether it had grasped him, all he knew was that he was lying on the ground with six of the eight arms of the octopus around him.

The boy was just in time to throw up his hands to protect his eyes, as a torrent of the inky fluid deluged him from head to foot. He struggled to get up, but the two tentacles of the cuttlefish held fast to adjacent rocks, and Colin might have found difficulty in freeing himself, owing to the awkward att.i.tude 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 the sepia fluid, his clothes were torn where he had fallen on the rocks, and he was smothered in the nauseous embrace of the uncanny and diabolical eight-armed creature clinging to his shoulder. Once, on the way to the boat, the cuttlefish seemed ready to drop off, but, at Vincente's warning, Colin made believe to force apart the other tentacles, and the octopus renewed its hold. As soon as they reached the boat and the boy stood still a moment, the cuttlefish let go, and fell to the bottom of the boat.

Colin looked down at himself and laughed, then jumped overboard in all his clothes, threshing around in the water to remove as much of the sepia 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' ze catch!"

CHAPTER VI

DEFEATED BY A SPOTTED MORAY

Colin's brilliant success at Santa Catalina, signalized by his receipt of the tuna b.u.t.ton, had so increased Major Dare's pride in him that when the boy renewed his request that he be allowed to enter the Bureau of Fisheries, his appeal received attention. The inspiration that he had gained from the whole-hearted enthusiasm of the professor was evident in all that the boy said, and his father was surprised to find how much the lad really had learned about the work of the Government during his experiences in the Behring Sea and on the Columbia River.

"It doesn't appeal to me particularly," his father said quietly, when the boy closed a somewhat impa.s.sioned pet.i.tion, "but we are each built upon a different pattern. To me, fish are of interest as a food and for sport. I couldn't be satisfied to take them up as a lifework. There's no money 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 be able to do the work you like than it is to seek only for money. The princ.i.p.al thing I'm afraid of is that you will find it tiresome and monotonous after a while. It's very hard work with a good deal of manual labor involved, and there is nothing particularly attractive in a bushel of fish-eggs!"

"But it's only on the start that you have to do the steady grind," Colin objected, "and one has to do that in every line of work. I know you would very much rather I took to farming or lumbering, but I think a fish is a much more interesting thing to work with than a hill of corn or 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 any other line I've ever heard of. The professor gave me an idea of all the different problems the Bureau was trying to solve, and each of them was more interesting than the last. You've got to be a doctor to study fish diseases, an engineer to devise ways and means for stream conditions, a chemist to work on poisons in the water that comes from factories, and all sorts of other things beside. It looks to me as though it had the best of all the professions boiled down into one!"

"That's an exaggerated statement, of course," was the reply; "but you seem in earnest. No," he continued, as Colin prepared to burst forth again, "you've said enough."

The boy waited anxiously, for he felt that the answer would decide his career.

"If your heart is set on the Fisheries," his father rejoined thoughtfully, after a few minutes' reflection, "I presume it would be unwise to stop you. But remember what I have told you before--I'm perfectly willing to fit you for any profession in life you want to take up, but only for one. If you begin on anything you have got to go through with it. I'll have no quitting. As you know, I would rather you had taken up lumbering, but I don't want to force you into anything, and perhaps 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 from Valdez," Major Dare continued, "because I saw that your old desires had increased instead of dying out. You know, Colin, I want to help you as much as I can. You realize that there's no school of fisheries, like the forestry schools, don't you?"

"Yes, Father."

"And that if you go into the Bureau the only way you can learn is by the actual 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 whole position to him. He answered my letter in a most friendly way, and showed me just what I've been telling you this morning. He pointed out frankly that the Bureau had so much to do and so little money appropriated to do it on, that such a thing as a 'soft job' wasn't known in 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 take the plunge," was the warning answer. "You oughtn't to wait until you are in 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 want that. Of course, I'll do whatever you say, but I feel that the Bureau of Fisheries 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 need to be done to enter you in the Bureau, but whatever is necessary, we'll do. I think you have decided on a life that will be hard and sometimes thankless, but at least it is a man's job, and will have its own compensations. You couldn't possibly do anything more useful. We'll go home by way of Washington, visit the Fisheries Bureau together, and see what 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 day before they left Santa Catalina, for he became so impatient that the intervening hours before they started for the East seemed like weeks to the boy. His enthusiasm was so genuine that, although his mother was already very tired of the interminable 'angling' conversation in Santa Catalina, she succeeded n.o.bly in evincing an intense interest in the whole 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, even before he went to the hotel, and he seemed to feel quite aggrieved when the visit was put off. Major Dare had some important business to look after and he purposed to leave the question of the boy's arrangements open for a couple of days, but he saw there would be no peace for any one until Colin's fate was settled, and at the boy's importunity he 'phoned to the Bureau and made an appointment with the Commissioner for the following day.