XVI.
New Hopes and Plans.—A Sail!—A bitter Disappointment.—A hazardous Adventure, and a Fright.—Quilts for Togas.—Another tremendous Casualty.
THERE, on the top of the bank, sat the five boys of the “B. O. W. C.,” waiting patiently. “Only an hour more, boys,” repeated Bruce. “Well, if they don’t come, we’ll survive it,” said Bart.
“I suppose we shall start off at once, if they don’t come.”
“Yes, as soon as the tide begins to fall.”
“I wonder if it will carry the schooner with it.”
“I think that it will.”
“Perhaps it will leave it aground.”
“All right. That will be so much the better for us. It would be a pity to lose the schooner so soon.”
“O, she won’t be lost.”
“Yes, she will. What’ll prevent her? She’ll be carried ashore on some rocks and broken to pieces, or she’ll drift out into the Bay of Fundy.”
“O, she has other chances in her favor. She may drift on some mud-flat like this, or she may be picked up on the basin, or, if she does get out into the Bay of Fundy, she may get picked up there.”
“That may be; but, after all, it’ll be hard on Corbet; and he’s rather poor.”
“It’ll serve him right,” exclaimed Tom Crawford. “He must have known that his anchor was broken.”
“Well, it certainly does serve him right, if he knew that; but he’s a careless fellow, and I dare say he didn’t know anything about it.”
“I wonder where this coast goes?” asked Phil Kennedy.
“Well, it goes in two directions,” said Bart. “Which way do you mean?”
“The right.”
“O, that goes to Parrsboro’ Village; the left leads up to Pratt’s Cove.”
“How do you know?”
“I can’t tell just where Pratt’s Cove is, but I know the direction in which it must lie from here,” said Bart. “You can tell that by seeing the way the Five Islands lie toward us. If they come for us, they’ll have to come from behind that headland.”
“I wonder if they’ll come by land or water.”
“I don’t see how they can come by land.”
“There’s a road, I suppose.”
“O, ever so far back. How could any one find anything about us on the road? No; they’ll come by water, so as to find us either afloat or ashore.”
“There isn’t any boat at all in Pratt’s Cove.”
“O, there must be other coves near, where they can get other boats.”
“It will be hard for us, if they don’t happen to have a boat.”
“O, they’ll get one.”
“And meanwhile we must act for ourselves; for I don’t believe they’ll get one to-day, at any rate.”
“Yes, we may as well prepare for an expedition along the coast.”
“Shall we separate, or go together?”
“O, together, by all means. But, hallo! what’s that?”
At this exclamation from Bart, all looked where his eyes were turned.
“A schooner!” they cried; “a schooner! There they come! Hurrah, boys! we’re all right.” Instantly every one sprang to his feet. “Come, boys, take off your shirts,” said Bruce, as he pulled off his own. “Let’s get ready a supply of red bunting to make signals to them.” Instantly all of them tore off their shirts, and waved them wildly from the top of the bank.
Yes, it was a schooner. It had come thus suddenly upon them as they were talking; and even though they had been on the constant lookout, yet its appearance had startled them all. It was twice as large as the Antelope, of a bright green color; its masts were yellow, and its sails beautifully neat. Spreading its snow-white wings to the breeze, it came bounding over the waves from behind the headland, and directed its course in toward the shore.
“She’s not heading for us at all,” said Bruce. “If she keeps on in that direction, she’ll be a mile down beyond us before we know it.”
“She don’t see us,” said Bart.
“Wave your signals, then! Ah, what a pity we hadn’t a good signal-post!”
“I’ll climb a tree,” said Phil, looking around.
“There isn’t any tree fit for the purpose. The highest ones are hidden by the smaller ones in front. This is as conspicuous a place as we can find.”
Meanwhile the schooner kept on at an angle with them, and pursued her way without taking any notice’ of them, heading toward a point far down to the right of the place where they were standing.
With a face of stern determination, and the air of a captain of a battery, Bart drew his pistol.
“I’ll fire,” said he, solemnly.
The next instant, bang! or, rather, pop! went the pistol.
But the schooner took not the smallest notice even of that overpowering demonstration. On the contrary, it kept straight on without altering its course.
“They’re blind, and deaf, too; and that’s all about it,” cried Phil Kennedy, in deep disgust.
“I wonder what’s the matter with them,” said Bruce. “They don’t keep a very good lookout, or they’d surely see us. There’s red flannel enough here to be seen five miles off.”
“I wonder who is steering.”
“I wonder who those two chaps are in the bow. Can it be Bogud and the mate?”
“I wonder who that old boy in a pea-jacket can be? It surely can’t be Mr. Simmons?”
“It’s Captain Corbet.”
“Nonsense! Captain Corbet is steering.”
“No, that’s the mate.”
“It isn’t, either. Don’t you see the mate on the bow?”
“That the mate! That’s Mr. Long.”
“Bah! Mr. Long don’t generally go in his shirtsleeves.”
“Why shouldn’t he? I s’pose he is helping the others. He’d just as soon take off his coat as not, if he had anything to do.”
“It isn’t Mr. Long, any way.”
But these wonders and conjectures were now interrupted by a movement on the part of the schooner. She had already gone beyond the spot where the boys were standing, and had come to within half a mile of the beach. She now wore round. Flap went the sails! there was a quick movement on board, and then away she went on another tack, with her head turned toward the opposite shore.
“She’s leaving us!” cried Bruce, aghast.
For a few moments all stood in silent dismay. This was a thing which they were not prepared for. If no schooner had come at all, they could easily have borne up; but now, since one had come, they had not for a moment doubted their speedy deliverance. There was not hope, but certainty, in her appearance. But now this was dashed to the ground, and the reaction was extreme.
Bart was the first to break the silence.
“1 tell you what, boys,” he cried, “I don’t believe it was them at all.”
“O, yes, it was,” said Arthur. “I recognized Captain Corbet.”
“No; you may depend upon it, you were utterly mistaken. Why, do you suppose, if they were after us, they would have come and gone so coolly? There wasn’t the slightest sign of any anxiety, or curiosity about them. If it had been our friends, they’d have seen our signals soon enough.”
“Yes, and the Antelope down there nearly ashore.”
“Well, I don’t know. But I certainly thought I recognized Captain Corbet.”
“I thought I saw Bogud.”
“Not a bit of it. They were strangers, and that accounts for everything.”
“And now,” said Tom, “all that we’ve got to do is to wait for a few minutes more, and then start.”
“I say, boys,” said Bart, after a fit of musing, “what a pity it is that we can’t fasten the vessel somehow, and keep her here! There’s an old tree at the bottom of the bank big enough to moor a ship at. If we could only get a line around it from the schooner, we could keep the vessel here till they did come.”
“Yes, that would be the best plan,” said Bruce; “for I’ve-been thinking that we may find some people here who would sail the schooner back to the cove. It would be a great pity to let her drift.”
“It’s a pity that we can’t get at her,” said Arthur.
“And why can’t we?” asked Bart.
Why! The question at once made every one stare and think. Each one could answer in his own mind why such a thing could not be done, but no one stated such a reason. All were silent.
“It’s not very far,” said Bart.
“No.”
“Not so far as it was to wade when we landed.”
“That’s a fact.”
“And I move that we try, it.”
“Ah, that’s all very well!” said Phil. “But who will try it?”
“Well, then, I will,” said Bart.
“O, then, if it comes to that, I’ll go too,” said Bruce.
“So will I,” said Arthur.
“And I,” said Phil.
“And I’ll be with you, boys,” said Tom.
“Of course you will,” said Bart.-“But what’s the use of all of us going. Two of us will be enough. Bruce and I can take our poles and do it. It’s not much any way.”
“And I’ll go with my handspike,” said Arthur. “In fact, I don’t think we need even boat-hooks,” said Bruce. “The bottom is hard sand just there, all the way out to the vessel. It’s as safe as a floor.”
“Yes, except for one thing,” said Arthur, holding up the jaw of the fish.
“Hm!” said Bruce. “For my part, I don’t believe there’s any danger just here. It’s too near the bank, I never heard of them coming in so near high-water mark; but, at the same time, I dare say it will be better to take the boat-hooks.”
“O, yes. We’ll feel safer,” said Bart, “and that’s something. One advantage will be, that we won’t be bothered with our bundles.”
“How do you propose to do?” asked Bruce.
“Well, to board her and get a line.”
“Will any of the lines be strong enough?”
“Well, my idea is, to let down the chain, fasten the rope to the anchor stump, and all of us can then drag it ashore. We can then wait till the tide brings the vessel near enough for us to pass the line, or the chain, around the tree.”
“That ought to hold it,” said Arthur.
“Of course it will.”
“Very well then. Let’s start. And first of all, let’s strip.”
“I’ll take the pistol, Bart,” said Phil, as Bart laid it down before taking off his belt; “and if anything happens, I’ll fire.”
“All right, my son,” said Bart.
They all went down then to the beach below, where they stripped, and the adventurous five went into the water, although only three were going on board; for Tom and Phil, felt bound in honor to share the possible peril of the others.
The water had risen a little up the steep declivity of the pebbled beach, and the vessel was some distance nearer than she had been when they first climbed the bank. It was a favorable time for starting, but not so much so as it would be in the course of half an hour. But they were too impatient to delay, and so they started. As it was, they had not more than fifty yards to go.
The bottom was not muddy just here, but composed of hard’ sand, like the sand-spit on which they had landed. The water was quite smooth, only disturbed by a gentle ripple, which, farther out, rose into small waves. The descent, like that farther out, was but very gradual, and it was only by almost imperceptible degrees that the water deepened.
Bruce and Bart went first, with their poles held in their hands in such a way that they were able to splash the water before them, so that if there should chance to be any more “shovel-mouth sharks” near by, they might take notice and govern themselves accordingly. For they firmly believed that all fish are frightened by any splashing, and deterred, just as wild animals are frightened and deterred, by the flashing of flames.
Tom and Phil followed more slowly, the former armed with a boat-hook, and the latter with the pistol. The distance was quickly traversed. The water grew deeper and deeper, until it was up to Bruce’s armpits and Bart’s shoulders. By that time they touched the schooner’s bows.
At that instant a splash was heard close by them, and the movement of some body was felt amid the waters.
“Up! Quick!” cried Bruce.
“You go first,” said Bart.
“I won’t,” cried Bruce.
“Nor will I,” said Bart.
Bruce said no more. He stooped down, and clasping Bart in his brawny arms, he jerked him up out of the water. Bart clambered on board, and held out his hand to Bruce. Another instant and the latter stood by his side. Arthur followed at the same time.
“Did you see that?” asked Arthur.
“Yes. Did you?”
“Yes. What was it?”
“Another shovel-month shark—wasn’t it?”
“I don’t think so. It wasn’t the same color. It was white.”
“Perhaps it turned over to bite.”
Arthur shook his head.
“‘No. It came between us. It was not so large as that other fellow. It dashed off at once.”
“Perhaps it was only a codfish,” said Bart.
“Well, it was a large one, then. It might have been a porpoise. I wonder if porpoises come so near the shore.”
“Sometimes, but not often.”
“I shouldn’t wonder if it was a sturgeon,” said Arthur. “After all, it may only have been a codfish. At the same time I’d much rather be here than down there.”
“Boys!” shouted Bruce to Tom and Phil. “Boys, you may as well go ashore. and dress. We’ll stay here a little while. It’ll take some time to get things ready.”
At this Tom and Phil went back and dressed.
The fish which they had last seen had produced a very solemnizing effect on their minds. There came over them a horror of that treacherous water. They felt an aversion toward venturing in again, and were sorry that they had come. But there was no help for it. There they were now, though each one felt that he could not venture back again into the water very readily. It might have been a sturgeon, or a porpoise, or even a codfish; but the horror of its presence was still there, whatever it was. It was some time before they could rally from the panic which had filled them as they tumbled on board. And though each said but little about it, and alluded to it very lightly, yet each one understood pretty truly the feelings of the others.
“Come, boys, hurry up!”
This was the cry that Phil and Tom sent them from the beach. They had dressed, and were watching them with impatience.
“We’re going to wait till she gets nearer,” cried Bruce. “At high tide she will be close to the beach, and we won’t have to drag the chain so far.”
“You’d better come now,” said Phil.
“No,” said Bart; “the chain won’t reach so far.”
“All right,” said Tom. “We’ll go up the bank again till you’re ready.”
Saying this, the two boys clambered up the bank, when they rambled a little into the woods. Arthur and Bart then found a line, one end of which they fastened, to the anchor. It was their intention to take the line ashore, and let go the whole chain, which they hoped could be pulled to the beach as far as the tree. Before that could be done, however, it would be necessary for the schooner to be much nearer. The water was already rising, and there yet remained many feet to be covered before the tide would reach what they considered as high-water mark.
“I don’t believe it will be high tide for an hour yet. It will be an hour later than we calculated,” said Bruce. “Hang it, it’s too cold here. I wish we had our clothes.”
“Well, I’m not going to freeze any longer,” said Bart, jumping down into the hold. He was absent for a few minutes, and soon returned with a quilt gracefully wrapped around him like a Roman toga. With a laugh, Arthur and Bruce jumped down, and imitated his example. Then coming on deck again, they joined Bart, and the boys professed to be very comfortable, considering all things.
They now took their seats at the stem, and looked out to sea, watching for any signs of relief. This occupied them for a longer time than they thought.
“I wonder what’s become of Tom and Phil,” said Arthur, suddenly jumping up and looking toward the shore.
The others did the same.
Scarcely had they done so, when a cry of dismay burst from them.
The shore was at least five hundred yards away. Phil and Tom were scrambling down the bank, gesticulating wildly.
“What’s all this?” cried Arthur.
For a moment no one answered; but at last Bart said, in a voice tremulous with agitation,—
“We’ve mistaken the high-water mark altogether, boys. It must have been high tide when we came on board. We’ve been drifting off ever since.”
“Couldn’t we wade ashore?” said Arthur.
Bruce seized a boat-hook, and plunged it over the vessel’s side into the water.
“Couldn’t do it,” he said, slowly. “There are eight or nine feet of water.”
“Can’t we swim?”
“Will you try it?”
Each one looked at the other, but there was no assent to this. It was not the mere distance, but the other perils of the deep that deterred them, and more than all, the remembrance of their last panic.