ed a little time to put out his
lines. He would avoid the pole they had placed; its top would be above
water at this stage of the tide.

Scotty led the way to the opening into the small waterway through which
they had gone to the duck blind. He found it without difficulty, and for
the thousandth time Rick marveled at his pal's sure sense of position
and direction, even in darkness. The boat was pushed backward into the
opening and tied to a root.

Rick rinsed his mask, put it on, and slid noiselessly under the water.
Scotty followed in a direct line, letting Rick pick the course, and
following by the feeling of Rick's flipper wash on his cheeks.

It was like swimming in ink. Rick kept his hands out in case of
unexpected underwater objects, but forged ahead at a good speed. He kept
track of his own rate of progress through the water by timing the number
of flutter kicks per minute. At the count of fifty he turned to the
left, heading directly into the creek's mouth. He could hear the steady
beat of Orvil's motor. When he estimated he had covered the proper
distance, he stopped and let Scotty catch up with him. He put a hand on
his pal's shoulder and pressed down, a signal to hold position. Then,
very carefully, he swam to the top of the water and lifted his head
above the surface. He could see the sapling a dozen yards away, slightly
to his right. Orvil was putting out lines upstream, near the point where
Swamp Creek widened into the cove.

Rick went under again and tapped Scotty. He headed for the pole, hands
outstretched to intercept it. His left hand hit it and held. Scotty came
alongside and they swam to the bottom. Both gripped the pole, put fins
flat against the muddy bottom, and heaved. The pole came up without
difficulty. While Scotty held it, Rick wrapped rope around it until the
line was fully wound again. Orvil's motor was nearer now. Rick took one
end of the pole while Scotty took the other. They operated entirely by
touch; nothing was visible except the luminous dials of their compasses.
The motor sound was muted in the burbling exhaust of their bubbles.

It was almost possible to stand on flipper tips with head above water.
The boys thrust their heads out with care, and saw Orvil bearing down on
them, peering forward anxiously. He waved when he saw the two helmeted
heads. There was a slight gleam from the masks even in the darkness. As
he came alongside, the boys held the pole overhead, water churning u