Mr. Chadborn readily consented, not knowing what plan the boys had in mind. But he warned them not to stray far, for, once lost, they were at the mercy of the Indians and the wild beasts. They made a long search always keeping within the sound of hammers. "I'll keep the path while you examine that tree off there," they constantly agreed, but never did they find one of the right kind. For two days they searched diligently, glad to get back to the cornmeal cakes and pea-porridge, and at night, quite as disappointed as Pring and doubtless more tired, they fell upon the bed of boughs their father had laid for them. On the third morning Mr. Chadborn told them to keep within call, for they were to return to the Manor that day. Samuel thought quite seriously, while Richard lay on the ground discouraged. "What is it, Sam?" cried Richard, catching a gleam in his brother's eye, and ready always to grasp at a suggestion. "Let's make baskets out of bark from a birch tree and fill them with these strawberries for Mother." They went to work with much energy, surprised to find how abundantly the berries grew along the banks, and returned to the Manor so full of the account of that strawberry patch that their disappointment was almost forgotten. "Oh, Mother, see what we have found! The bank was covered with berries, even after we had picked all these!" "Why, boys, it is just like the home-land! Surely Captain John Smith had described this Place well for Prince Charles to 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.