XVIII.
Wanderings about the Beach.—Science and Sport.—Back Home.—Frightful Tale of Poison.—A Visit to the Afflicted.
THE eatables which Mr. Long had brought with him were not such as would have been welcome to a fastidious taste or a dainty appetite; but to these long-fasting, hard-working, and half-starving, and altogether ravenous boys, anything that was eatable was precious. The brown ship-bread and salt pork, which Mr. Long handed up to them, were seized as eagerly as if they had been roast beef and plum pudding, and soon disposed of. A knife drawn from Phil’s belt served very quickly to cut the pork into slices, after which the pork and the brown biscuit vanished.
“What a pity,” said Mr. Long, as he looked around, “that we didn’t get here an hour earlier! The water’s going out fast; the schooner is aground, and we’ll have to wait till the next tide before we can start for the cove.”
“It’s a pity that we can’t do something while waiting, so as not to throw our time away,” said Mr. Simmons.
“There don’t seem to be much prospect of doing anything just here, but we can try.”
“Nor do I see that there are any people living about here.”
“No: Captain Corbet told me there were no inhabitants within eight miles.”
“These banks are not very inviting to a mineralogist—are they?” said Mr. Simmons, with a sigh, as he looked along the beach.
“No; we’ll have to lay out our strength on the mud flats. Perhaps we may find some interesting footprints at low tide.”
“Well, we may as well go ashore now, I suppose. It’s rather monotonous standing here on an inclined plane, with the vessel aground on her side. I think I’ll climb the bank, and take a general view of the country.”
“Very well; I’ll go with you,” said Mr. Long. “And now, boys,” he continued, “remember this: don’t go out of sight. This beach is long, and it will soon be wide, for the tide will leave it all uncovered. This will give space enough for even such extensive and wide-spreading desires as yours. Now, don’t go off the beach or the flats. Don’t go up in the woods, and get lost; don’t go into the water, and get drowned; don’t blow yourselves up with that pistol; don’t get into any more fights with ‘shovel-mouth sharks,’ or, if you do, be sure to call me; don’t get into air-holes if you can help it. As to going adrift again, I don’t see how you can manage that, as there is nothing afloat just yet; but, dear hoys, if you can possibly help it, don’t do it. Try and see if you can’t manage’ to keep your clothes on. It’s much better, as a general thing, to do so.”
All this the hoys greeted with loud laughter; after which they sprang over the vessel’s side, and scattered themselves along the beach.
Captain Corbet stood looking after them, with a beaming smile irradiating his venerable countenance.
“Yes,” he ejaculated, standing near Mr. Long. “Yes, sir; I allus knowed it, an’ I allus said it, that them there boys would turn up all right. Lor’ bless your heart, you can’t wreck ’em, an’ you can’t drown ’em. The fish doesn’t swim that can tetch ’em. They’re allus bound to turn up all straight. That’s the confidin’ belief that reigned in my boosom, an’ sustained me when we watched, ’em in the Antelope, up there at the pint. As to that there anchor, ef it had been a bran new one, it would have been broken off jest the same, for that there schooner was bound to lie on it an’ crack it, an’ them there boys was bound to have that there adventoor.”
Mr. Long now landed with Mr. Simmons, and went up to the top of the bank, where they sat down for some time, gazing upon the wide-spread scenery of the Basin of Minas. After this they descended and walked about the beach. At first, they hoped to obtain some shells; but nothing of the kind could be found. In fact, there were scarcely any pebbles; indeed, none but the most common kind. For all the waters of the Bay of Fundy and its adjacent harbors are singularly bare of the more delicate shell-fish. Lobsters abound, and so do clams; so also do many kinds of seaweed; but as for the more exquisite forms of sea life, such as we love to put in the aquarium, they must be sought for elsewhere. Here are swift currents, fierce rapids, strong tides, vast mud flats or sand flats, rivers that empty and fill themselves with every ebb and flood; and it is not amid such scenes that we may look for those graceful, yet fragile creatures,-whose abode is amid stiller scenes.
As the tide went down, Messrs. Simmons and Long walked over the flats, hoping to find something which would reward their trouble. From the surface of the sea bottom thus uncovered, many interesting things might be obtained. On these mud flats are found many marks, which are the counterparts of others that have been turned into stone, and buried in the adjacent earth. Here may be seen the patter of rain-drops, and the footprints of birds or beasts made on the very day of their discovery, while among the strata of the neighboring shore there may lie traces of a similar kind made many ages ago, which thus have been graven on the rock, and treasured up for our eyes.
The boys dispersed themselves everywhere, extending their wanderings as the tide left more and more of the shore exposed. Far down they could see the weirs, placed there by the fishermen, and they waited long for these to become uncovered, so that they might visit them, and inspect their contents. But it grew later and later, and finally it became too dark to do anything. Then the voice of Mr. Long was heard summoning them to the shore.
Thus the remainder of the day passed without anything to reward them except the general excitement which had been produced among them. It would be many hours yet before they could get afloat, and they amused themselves by making fires at the foot of the bank. A modest and frugal repast of brown biscuit and pork, washed down with cold water, concluded the day. For some time longer they sat round the fire, until, at last, excessive weariness overcame them. Then they went on board the schooner, and retired to bed.
Some time after midnight the Antelope was afloat again. None of her passengers waked. She moved away from the shore without accident. Morning came, and she had not yet reached her destination. The wind had been unfavorable, and she had lost that tide. As she could not anchor, Captain Corbet had run her ashore. They had to wait patiently, and get off at midday, with the rising tide; after which they resumed their voyage, and in three hours more they were in Captain Pratt’s house.
Of the five boys who had been left behind, one was not visible, and the other four met them with pale, woe-begone faces. They showed no joy at seeing the return of the wanderers; no curiosity to learn what they had been doing; and even the sight of the jaw of the “shovel-mouth shark” produced upon them no effect whatever.
It was seen that something had happened, and the unhappy four were closely cross-questioned. At first they refused to answer. At last, on being pressed, they confessed that they had all been poisoned.
“Poisoned!” cried Bart, in horror. “How was that?”
“Clams!!!” said Jiggins.
“Yes, clams!” said all the others.
“Clams?” cried Bart. “What rubbish! How could clams poison you! Pooh!”
“Ah, you don’t know,” said Jiggins. “You ask Mrs. Pratt. Haven’t you heard the old saying,” he continued, with an air of peculiar solemnity; “the old saying, that they have about these shores:”
”’ In the months without the “R,”
Clams and oysters poison are?’”
“Never heard it,” said Bart; “and I don’t believe it. I’ve eaten lots of oysters in May myself.”
Jiggins shook his head.
“Never do it again,” said he.
“Do you mean to say that it was clams that upset you so?”
“Clams, and clams alone,” said Jiggins. “We owe our lives to Mrs. Pratt. She’s been a mother to us.”
“Why! What do you mean?”
“You see we had a stew. Pat ate them raw, and fell down in horrible agonies. The torments which he suffered were so excruciating that he had to be carried to the house, and went nearly mad with pain. Mrs. Pratt attended him, and as soon as he was easier she took us in hand. We had eaten after Pat, and our pains had not yet begun. Mrs. Pratt got out all her medicines, and tried them on us one after the other.”
“What! not all! not all her medicines!”
“Yes, all!” said Jiggins, in a dismal voice. “I can’t tell you all that we took; but first there was opodeldoc, then ginger, then Crabb’s cordial, then magnesia, then paregoric, then blue pills, then a mustard plaster, after which there was rum and onions, brimstone and molasses—”
“Stop, stop!” cried Bart. “What’s all that? You don’t mean to say that you took all that?”
“Yes, all!” ejaculated. Jiggins, his face growing at once longer and paler at the recollection of hiss sorrows.
“And you’re alive yet—all of you? Then you need never be afraid of poisons. Yes my poor Jiggins, you have been poisoned; that’s a fact, though not by clams.”
Mr. Long, who was present, had listened to all this in consternation.
“And where’s Pat?” he asked. That young gentleman’s name was Michael, but everybody called him Pat, and so did Mr. Long. “And where’s Pat?”
“In bed yet, sir.”
“Poor Pat! Has he been dosed, too?”
“Yes, sir; but he was taken worse than any of us;” and with this Jiggins went on to tell all about Pat and the raw clams.
“Dear, dear, dear!” cried Mr. Long. “He must have eaten a bushel, and all raw. Dear, dear, dear! What did he think he was made of? O, how is it possible for me to keep you all out of mischief? I go after one half of you who are in peril, and come back to find the rest of you half poisoned. But poor Pat—where is he? I must see him, for we have to start for home to-night.”
“I’ll show you, sir,” said Jiggins; and he took him to the room where Pat was. He was lying in bed, looking pale and exhausted. He greeted Mr. Long with a faint smile, and the kind-hearted teacher did his utmost to soothe the afflicted boy.