The "B. O. W. C.": A Book For Boys / Illustrated

by James De Mille

IV.

Blomidon.—Tides and Fogs.—Songs and Seasickness.—The Five Islands, and a Race up a Précipice.
WINDING on through the tortuous channel of the creek, they reached its mouth without accident, and passed out into the bay. The morning was bright and beautiful, the wind blew fair, and all gave themselves up to the joy of the occasion. The Antelope, it is true, was of ancient build and model; she was short, and broad, and round, but the wind was of such a kind as to bring out whatever capacity for sailing she might have. The sun shone brightly, and all around them sparkled the blue waves of the bay. Behind them was the long level of Grand Pré, beyond which the hills arose, whose slopes were dotted with white houses. Before them was the wide bay bounded by the Parrsboro’ shore, while conspicuous, as usual, arose the grand form of Blomidon.

“Is Blomidon a French name?” asked Bart of Mr. Simmons.

“No. It is said to be a corruption of the words Blow me down, and it is spelled that way on old maps. A good many old coasting skippers pronounce it in that way. The winds that prevail out there off the cape are a sufficient cause for such a name.”

“Are there more winds off Blomidon than in other parts of the bay?”

“O, yes. It is seldom calm there. It seems as if all the winds of the Bay of Fundy and of the Basin of Minas struggled together there. It is a sort of funnel through which they all pour backward or forward. Then the sea out there is often quite heavy. The meeting of different currents and different winds causes this. Seldom will you find a place where such fierce currents rush to and fro.”

“Shall we land at Blomidon first?”

“I do not think we can with this wind. It will be better, I think, to wait till we come back. We will go across the Basin to the Five Islands first.”

“Where are the highest tides of this Basin?”

“Do you see away there,” said Mr. Simmons, pointing far away toward the right, “where the land seems to sink down?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there the water runs up till it ends in the Shubenacadie River. It is there that the tide runs highest, and I suppose there is no part of the world where the rise is so great.”

“Do you believe it rises ninety feet?”

“I have heard so,—at spring tides,—but I rather think it is an exaggeration. It is difficult to get a fair and accurate measurement. I do not think that it rises much over seventy feet.”

“That is high enough to surpass all other tides, I should think. But see—hallo! what’s that?”

“And Bart darted to the side of the vessel, attracted by a shout. A large schooner was approaching, on board of which all were staring with grinning faces at the Antelope.

“Is that Captain Kidd’s craft?” shouted one of the sailors.

“Yes,” screamed Bart.

“We’re going to dig up a little buried treasure.”

A yell of derision and laughter was the answer, to which the boys of the Antelope responded by wild, unearthly shouts; and so the vessels passed each other.

In commemoration of this little incident, one of the boys commenced to sing a doleful ditty, known in literature as “The Dying Confession of Captain Kidd,” of which the following lines will give a good idea:
"O, my name is Captain Kidd,
As I sailed, as I sailed;
O, my name is Captain Kidd,
As I sailed.
O, my name is Captain Kidd,
And much wiekedness I did,
And a heap of gold I hid,
As I sailed.”

One song started another, and one by one their favorite school songs came out. One of these was the following:
1st Verse. (Brisk.)
"Three blue-bottles,
Three blue-bottles,
Three blue-bottles sat
On a milestone.”
Recitative.
"One flew away.”
2d Verse. (Slow.)
"Two blue-bottles,
Two blue-bottles,
Two blue-bottles sat
On a milestone.”
Recitative.
"Another flew away.”
3d Verse. (Slower.)
"One blue-bottle,
One blue-bottle,
One blue-bottle sat
On a milestone.”
Recitative.
"That one flew away.”
4th Verse. (Very slow, very sad, and very solemn.)
"No blue-bottles,
No blue-bottles,
No blue-bottles sat
On a milestone.”
Recitative.
"One came back.”
5th Verse. (Less sad.)
"One blue-bottle,
One blue-bottle,
One blue-bottle sat
On a milestone.”

Gradually the blue-bottles of the song come back, till finally, on the return of the three, the song comes to a triumphant conclusion.

Standing at the helm, Captain Corbet gave directions from time to time to the “mate” about sailing the vessel, and listened to the songs of the boys with a patriarchal smile. He had already shown himself so accessible, that all the boys had chatted with him; and at last they insisted that he should sing. Captain Corbet did not need very much solicitation; Standing at the helm with his eyes half closed, he began in a thin, shrill, piping, nasal voice, full of queer tremolos and grace notes, to drone out several melodies of a varied character. The first one was an ancient ballad, called “The Farmier’s Boy,” which began as follows:
"O, the sky was black, the day was cold,
And the winds did loud-ly roar,
When cold and sad there corned a lad
Into a farimier’s door.
”’Can you tell me,’ says he, ‘if any there be
Who want to give emplo-o-o-o-o-o-y
For to plough and to sow, and to reap and to mow,
And to be a farmier’s bo-o-o-o-o-o-o-y—
To—be—a—farmier’s bo-o-o-o-o-o-o-y?’”

Another song referred to the charms of domestic life, and was evidently directed with a fell, satirical purpose against Messrs. Simmons and Long, who were both hardened bachelors, and who, in Captain Corbet’s estimation, had shown a degree of callousness and indifference to the sweet attractions of domestic happiness which could not be too strongly rebuked.

Meantime the Antelope was drawing nearer to Blomidon, and while listening to Captain Corbet’s dulcet strains, they were gazing with admiration at the dark promontory. None noticed that they were approaching a place where the water, agitated by the wind, and driven by conflicting currents, was tossing itself up into foaming waves; but all stood carelessly about, and the song and the laugh went on. Suddenly the vessel seemed to give a jump, and then a plunge downward. At that instant a wave came dashing over the bows, saturating to the skin a little crowd that had gathered there. Then, with a rush, and a crack, and a wild singing among the rigging, a squall struck the vessel. Over she went on one side, while fresh waves dashed over her gunwale. In an instant all was confusion. Every boy grasped some rope, and held on for his life. The boys who had been drenched at the bows looked forlornly at their companions. Then—poof! came another blast, and away, away went five dark objects careering through the air to leeward. A cry from the “B. O. W. C.” followed this last mishap. They had lost their hats, their beautiful plumed felt hats, their pride, their joy—lost them ingloriously and beyond all hope of recovery. With doleful faces they looked at one another, wondering what they could do. There were no more hats on board. They thought of handkerchiefs, and so one after another bound his handkerchief around his head. But now there was not much chance for lamentation over wet jackets or lost hats. A more dismal fate was lowering over them. Each one knew it, saw it, felt it in his inmost soul. For the sea was rough, and the little schooner pitched and tossed every way, rolling, and leaping, and jumping, more than flesh and blood could bear. At any rate, their flesh and blood could not bear it. A feeling of wretchedness came to every heart; every face grew pale, and assumed an expression of woe. Suddenly Messrs. Long and Simmons disappeared into the cabin. This was the signal for others. Many followed. A few, however, preferred the deck, with its fresh air, to the close air and the sickening smell of bilge-water and potatoes, that predominated below. But the scene had changed for them as for all, and the grandeur of Blomidon, and the magnificence of an iron-bound coast, were forgotten. Hushed was the merry laugh, silent the melodious song. Gone were the joyous young faces that but a short time before had looked out from the vessel upon the sea and sky. Faded were the bright eyes, scattered the bright visions of enjoyment. Alas, how changed!

And now, as they, went on farther, the wind grew fresher, and the waves grew rougher, and the little schooner danced about like a mad thing; and the booms creaked against the masts, and the sails flapped furiously, and the blast went singing through the rigging. The wretched voyageurs paid no attention to it. Their thoughts were all turned inward. Little did they think now of that which they had recently been celebrating so joyously:
"A life on the ocean wave,
A home on the rolling deep,
"Where the scattered waters rave,
And the winds—and the wi-i-i-i-inds—and the w-i-i-i-i-i-i-i-nds
their re-e-e-e-e-vels keep!”

Time passed, and still the Antelope went tossing, and rolling, and pitching onward.. How long a time no one knew. Not one of the voyageurs kept any account of that. Whether minutes or hours, they could not tell. It seemed to them all one long duration, involving days or months. But at last the motion of the vessel ceased, and she went on more smoothly. Most of the boys below mustered up their courage, and began to think of going on deck once more. Soon the joyous voice of Bart Darner summoned them up.

“Come along, boys. We’re going to anchor. We’re at Five Islands. Hurrah!”

“Hurrah! Hurrah!”

A loud cry arose. Up went the boys scrambling to the deck, and there the scene before them was sufficient to drive away all suffering. The water was smooth, the wind was quieter. Before them lay the outlines of Five Islands, rising beautifully out of the water between them and the main land, the nearest one being not more than a mile away. These islands were of different and peculiar shapes. The two more distant were rounded and well wooded; the third, which was midway among the group, had lofty, precipitous sides, and the summit was dome-shaped; the fourth was like a table, rising, with perpendicular sides, to the height of two hundred feet, with a flat, level surface above, which was all overgrown with forest trees. The last, and nearest of the group, was by far the most singular. It was a bare rock, which rose irregularly from the sea, terminating at one end in a peak, which rose about two hundred feet into the air. As they approached it, this rock had a very peculiar appearance. It resembled, more than anything else, a vast cathedral rising out of the sea, the chief mass of the rock corresponding with the main part of the cathedral, while the tower and spire were there in all their majesty. For this cause the rock has received the name of Pinnacle Island. This lonely and desolate rock, that thus rose out before them, grew more distinctly revealed as they drew nearer. At the base they saw the white foam of breaking surf; while far on high, around its lofty, tempest-beaten summit, they saw myriads of sea-gulls. Gathering in great white clouds about this place, they sported and chased one another; they screamed and uttered their shrill yells, which sounded afar over the sea.

Nearer and nearer they came, till at last they reached a smooth place on the lee of the second island. This one was so close by Pinnacle Island, that it seemed as though they might be joined at low water. Before them, within a moderate distance, lay a gravelled beach, which extended as far as they could see at the verge of the island, above which the dark cliffs towered precipitously.

“There!” said Mr. Simmons, pointing, with sparkling eyes, to the dark and sombre rocks,—“there, boys, is the place for minerals! I have found on those rocks the most beautiful specimens, that have ever been seen, of crystals, of jasper, and of chalcedony. I have found onyx, spar, and hundreds of other stones; all kinds of agates, fragments of copper ore, barytes, beautiful petrifactions, and footprints of birds among masses of sandstone. From those cliffs came the famous amethyst that was once among the crown jewels of Louis XV. Come, boys, be diligent; use your eyes, and you will find something worth remembering. David Digg, don’t forget your hammers.”

His enthusiastic speech was interrupted by a loud shout from Captain Corbet.

“Let go!” he cried.

Down came the sails; and shortly after, rattle—rattle—rattle—rattle, and with a plunge and a splash, the anchor rushed to the sea bottom.

“And now for the boats,” said Mr. Long.

The boat was brought up alongside. It was short, wide, and round, and appeared to have been constructed after the identical tub which had evidently served as a model for the Antelope. There was but one oar, which was used to propel the boat by sculling. Not more than five or six could get into her with safety.

“We can’t all go ashore in that,” said Mr. Simmons.

“Why not?” asked Captain Corbet.

“Why, she won’t hold us.”

“Yes, she will.”

“O, no.”

“Excuse me, sir,” persisted Captain Corbet. “Of course you don’t all mean to go at once.”

“O, I see,” said Mr. Simmons, whose mathematical mind began to grasp the solution of the difficult problem. “You’ll make two or three trips with her.”

“Of course.”

“O, that quite alters the case.”

“Bless your heart, of course it does.”

“Will we want any provisions?” asked Bart.

“Provisions! What for?”

“Are we going to camp out?”

“O, no. We’ll return to the vessel. But provisions! O, yes, we’ll want a lunch ashore, of course.”

And now began the process of disembarkation. Messrs. Simmons and Long, with two boys, went first. A number of baskets of provisions were thrown in, and the mate sculled them ashore.

On his return five more boys were ready. The “B. O. W. C.” generously waited till the last. The loss of their hats had been a sore grievance, but the handkerchiefs were not a bad substitute. Bart had his pistol in his belt, and a sailor’s knife. Bruce Rawdon had a beautiful little hatchet. The others had knives. When the boat returned, they were quite worn out with impatience, and were almost ready to jump overboard and swim ashore. But their time of waiting ended at last, and the boat landed them on the gravelly beach..

It was about two o’clock when the party landed on the island. They had started at ten, three hours before high tide. The tide was therefore already beginning to turn, and would of course continue to run out till seven or eight. On this account, the schooner could not come any nearer for fear of being stranded. As they did not intend to pass the night on the island, it was necessary, at all hazards, to keep the vessel afloat. Captain Corbet had selected a place where he knew the vessel could ride at all times of tide; and though it was inconveniently distant, yet it was the only place for her under the circumstances. Mr. Simmons had told Captain Corbet that he would leave the island in three hours, after which the schooner was to sail to a port a few miles off on the main land, and anchor for the night. He had also taken care to let all the boys understand these arrangements perfectly, and had warned them not to be too far away when the hour for leaving might come.

As the last of the passengers landed, they walked about the beach, looking up at the gigantic cliffs, picking up the stones and shells, and exulting in the novelty of their situation. The island was about half a mile long, and about half that width. The beach was narrow; and the boys began to look, with longing eyes, to the summit of the island. In their wanderings they came across their companions. Mr. Simmons, followed by Bogud, was busy at the rocks in one place. Mr. Long, with Billymack, was working away near him. The baskets lay open, and all could help themselves to lunch. After satisfying their hunger, the “B. O. W. C.” quickly determined to explore the island thoroughly, with the hope of finding a way to the top. With this intention they started off, and at length found a place which seemed to promise what they desired. It was at the end nearest to Pinnacle Island. A torrent had made a rough pathway for itself in that place, and though the stones were somewhat insecure, yet it seemed safe enough for active lads.

Up this place, then, they tried to climb. The footing was very insecure, the loose stones constantly rolling down, and making it dangerous for one to go behind another. It was so steep that they had to climb with hands as well as feet. They clutched the roots of trees, the long, tough grasses, and the thick ferns. Thus pulling, pushing, clutching, dodging stones, and forcing a way up through all difficulties, they-managed to scramble to the summit.

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