Some Three Hundred Years Ago | Page 8

name it New
England. Already I feel better, for this land is not so strange since home
things grow here."
The boys found that even the sassafras could not have given her more
pleasure. They went to bed that night before dark, contented with their
search and anxious to return to the strawberry field.
For twenty years the land about the Great House was called Strawberry
Bank. Though that was almost three hundred years ago and the name
was afterward changed to Portsmouth, there are now many people in
New England, and some outside, who know just what spot is meant
when they hear of Strawberry Bank.

THE BOYS' CATCH.
"Get off that boat! We can't be bothered by boys on this trip!"
Edward Godfrie, who had charge of the fisheries at Mason Manor,
shouted with stern authority.
It was scarcely daybreak on a May morning in 1632. Six great shallops
lay at anchor off the rocks. Five fishing boats were in readiness, while
several skiffs were conveying fishermen and equipment for the day's
work.
Godfrie's own boy, Hugh, and James Williams, regretfully climbed
ashore.

"Leave that seine behind!" was the next order to the boatmen. The
stretch of net was pitched out upon the rocks.
Every available worker at the Manor was ready to cast a line or haul a
net on this trip, for the biggest catch possible was to be made that day.
The Warwick, an English trading vessel of the Laconia Company, had
already gone up the Piscataqua River and on her return would take a
cargo of fish back to England. No later catch could be sufficiently
salted and dried.
"To feed eighty people every day," grumbled Godfrie, "and keep a
cargo on hand, can't be done even in these waters."
There had been little planting on this shore; so the fish already prepared
for market had been eaten by the hungry settlers because of the delayed
arrival of the Warwick with food supplies. Perhaps this accounts for
Godfrie's irritation and anxiety for a good catch. When the last boat had
started, he stepped into a skiff, picked up the oars, and pulled for the
fishing fleet.
Four forlorn boys, for Samuel and Richard Chadborn had joined the
others, stood on the shore and watched the sails against the pink of the
morning sky. The glorious air and strong salt breeze made the land
seem unbearable to them. They wandered to the flakes and on to the
salt works. Francis Williams, James's father, manufactured the salt.
"Get away from there, boys," he shouted, as they appeared. "A big
catch comes in tonight, and we need every grain!"
Log cabins were scattered about the estate for those who did not live in
the Hall. Horses, cows, pigs, sheep, and goats had their sheds or
wandered about at will. However, there was no interest in them for the
boys, who sauntered back to the shore from which the boats had
started.
"There are two skiffs left," suggested Hugh. "Let's go fishing for
ourselves!"

"Yes!" exclaimed Sam, with a new idea. "And why not take that net
and stretch it across the narrows in the little harbor? I saw the men do
that one day."
It was a thought that aroused them all, perhaps because it required both
daring and pluck. The net was a weighty one for their muscles,
although they were stout, strong fellows for their years.
James's father felt relieved as he saw them start. At least the flakes and
the salt would be unmolested. However, his attitude changed at
sundown when the boys had not returned.
The fishing fleet brought back a set of disappointed men, for the catch
had not been what was hoped for by many pounds. Godfrie's grumbling
could be heard before he landed, nor was it lessened when he reached
shore to find that his boy, with the others, was missing.
The sun set and the moon rose, yet nothing had been seen of the boys.
An hour later the distant splash of oars on the quiet waters and excited
boy voices brought all the Manor folk to the shore. The approach was
so slow that there was great fear that some one had been hurt. Yet there
was an elated tone as the voices came nearer. When they were within
shouting distance there came a call for help.
A half-dozen strong men jumped into their skiffs and pulled with speed.
In a half-hour's time two great boat-loads of fish were pulled ashore.
The boys had stretched their net at low water across a narrow part of
the stream. As the tide rushed in, it brought fish in a school of unusual
size, which, caught by the current, had entered the little harbor instead
of the main river.
This catch made