Chapter 16 #2
“I haven’t. But I’ve spoken to Roderick about it several times, and he gave me a lot of advice. I’ve always longed for the chance to test myself in these sorts of conditions. I must confess, I was afraid I would never get it.”
Nat tilted his head. “Never? Really?”
Kit looked away. “My father has never permitted me to join this sort of expedition in the past.”
That was odd. And here, Nat had formed the impression that Kit’s father was supportive of his chosen field. He had obviously been mistaken. “Is he the overprotective sort?”
Kit shrugged. “Not really. Indifferent would be more accurate. He doesn’t believe in me.”
Nat slapped Kit on the back. “Well, I do. You’re a man grown now, and with the scholarship you’ve earned, your father isn’t holding the purse strings anymore.
You can chart your own course.” He laughed.
“Frankly, with your talent, there isn’t a naturalist alive who wouldn’t want you to join his expedition.
I’m just lucky to have found you first.”
Kit gave a nervous chuckle, still not meeting Nat’s eye. “Right.”
Gracious, but the young man was modest. Not that Nathaniel was complaining.
They were about to spend the next month sleeping in rough conditions; theirs was not a specialty that lent itself well to someone who put on airs.
He slapped Kit’s back one more time. “I’m sure you’ll do well.
” He glanced around. They seemed to be drawing closer to the shore. “What’s this? Are we there already?”
They came around a rocky bluff, and Nathaniel saw that they were.
A colony of grey seals lay sprawled across a stretch of brilliant white sand.
He could see one barking at his companions but couldn’t hear it over the hiss of the wind.
The morning was bright, rendering the water turquoise in the sun, and his heart squeezed.
The palm trees were missing, and he knew the water would be frigid, rather than tropical.
But the sight was similar enough to Jamaica that if he squinted, he could fool himself into thinking he was home.
“Come on!” Murdo called from the opposite side of the boat. Nathaniel saw that Mr. MacGumbry had lowered a rowboat into the water. Murdo was scrambling in, a basket in one hand. “We’ll spend the day here, and Mr. MacGumbry will collect us on his way home.”
Kit already had one leg over the side. “Here, hold this,” he said, thrusting his sketchpad and pencil roll at Nathaniel. Nat chuckled at his eagerness. Once Kit was in the rowboat, Nathaniel handed him his things, tossed in his satchel, and climbed aboard.
Nat reached for the oars, but Kit snatched them up before he could get there. “Could I row? Please?”
Nat laughed at his eagerness. “Suit yourself.”
It was slow going with the slight artist manning the oars, but Nathaniel didn’t mind. He sat back and enjoyed the salt spray of the ocean—the cold salt spray, he might add—and the bright morning sunshine.
They pulled the boat up onto the beach, giving the seals a wide berth. They scrambled up the grassy bluff and found a spot with a good vantage point of the colony. If the seals were bothered by their presence—and Murdo’s stream of chatter—they gave no sign of it, continuing to laze in the sun.
Nat flipped open his notebook and began recording observations about the seals’ behavior. Beside him, Kit commenced sketching.
After a few minutes, Murdo grew bored and announced he was going to go play on the beach. When Nat glanced down, he saw that the boy had removed his shoes and rolled his trousers up to his knees and was splashing in the incoming waves, apparently unbothered by the frigid water.
Kit, on the other hand, showed no sign of his attention flagging.
Every few minutes, the soft scratch of his pencil was interrupted by the whoosh of him flipping to a fresh page of his pad.
Although they didn’t speak a word, a peaceful feeling settled over Nat—that of being in perfect accord.
Fieldwork was usually such a solitary occupation.
It was nice having a companion to work alongside.
Nat wrote for so long that his hand was starting to cramp when a shadow fell over his notebook. He looked up to see that Murdo had returned, basket in hand. “Aren’t ye growing hungry? My da packed us a lunch.” He plopped down beside them.
Nathaniel consulted his pocket watch and saw that it was almost noon. How had two hours passed so quickly?
Murdo leaned toward Kit’s sketchpad. “Ooh—those are quite good, Kit! Can I see some more?”
Nat scooted around so he could see the drawings, too. Unsurprisingly, they were excellent, featuring a mix of portraits of individual seals and small groups, and a full-page landscape that captured the entire colony.
While Kit showed them his handiwork, they ate smoked salmon, oatcakes, and a delicious goat cheese. It must’ve been time for the seals’ luncheon, too, because they began waddling toward the water in twos and threes until the beach was naught but a long strip of brilliant white sand.
After finishing his lunch, Kit leaned back on his elbows in the tall grass. “I imagine Mr. MacGumbry won’t return for several hours. What shall we do until then?”
Murdo stood, brushing sand from his hands. “Ye’re in luck, because it’s low tide. I’ve just the thing. Follow me.”
He led them to the far end of the beach.
The day was… not hot precisely, but sunny, and Nathaniel’s calves began to burn as they marched across the long strip of sand.
He grew warm enough that he peeled off his coat and loosened his neckcloth.
He noted that although Kit’s temple shone with sweat, he kept his coat on.
At the front of their short column, Murdo turned his head and grinned. “We’re almost there. Don’t worry—it’ll be worth it.”
He led them around the edge of a rocky outcropping. Hidden within was a cave with two diamond-shaped openings. In truth, the inside of the cave was nothing impressive. It was damp, slimy, and foul-smelling.
But the contrast it presented when you looked out of the cave toward the brilliant white beach and crystalline sea was stunning. One could not have conceived a more perfect frame for the picturesque view.
Kit apparently agreed, because he gave a cry of delight. Heedless of the greenish-blackish slime sloshing over his boots, he rushed to the back of the cave and began searching for the perfect vantage point.
Nathaniel peered into the pools scattered around the cave’s floor, hoping there might be some crabs or other sea creatures he could observe. Finding nothing, he selected a rock near the back of the cave and settled in to enjoy the view.
After a quarter of an hour, he wandered across the cave to peer over Kit’s shoulder. He noted that, in addition to the general outline of the cave, Kit had scrawled a combination of numbers and words all over the sketch. “What are these notes?” Nat asked, pointing.
Kit’s pencil did not so much as pause as he answered.
“The names of various pigments, and the percentages to use. I’ve spent enough time mixing colors to know which ones match what I’m seeing.
This way, even if I don’t get around to adding the watercolors for another month, I’ll be fairly confident that I’ve accurately captured the scene, even if it is no longer perfectly fresh in my memory. ”
“Clever.” Not that Nathaniel was surprised. Kit was the consummate professional. You would think that he’d been doing this sort of work for years, and that he had trained under an experienced naturalist. How was it possible that such an astonishing talent had come out of nowhere?
He supposed that rather than questioning it, he should be grateful that he was the one fortunate enough to discover the young man.
Eventually, Murdo came jogging into the cave to announce that he’d spotted Mr. MacGumbry on the horizon. They packed up their things and climbed into the rowboat. The surf had picked up, so this time, Nathaniel insisted upon manning the oars.
As they pulled away from the beach, he reflected that today had been an unequivocal success.
Not only had he been able to spend the day observing an interesting group of animals, but he and Kit also showed every sign of working well in conjunction with one another.
And more than that, there had been no sign of the awkwardness that had plagued them after the unfortunate incident this morning.
It was a tremendous relief to know that they could put it behind them and focus on the scientific observations they were here to complete.
It would not happen again. Nathaniel was sure of it.