Chapter X.
"Get out the hammer and nails, and take a couple of the bottom boards and nail the canvas over the cockpit," ordered Charley. "We must keep the water out, or we shall get into trouble."
The boys silently obeyed him. The canvas cabin was laid across the cockpit; the boards were placed over the edges of the canvas and nailed down to the deck. An opening was left close to the tiller, so that any one could creep into the cockpit, but with the aid of a cord even this small opening could be closed.
"Now, boys," said Charley, when this work was done, "I want Tom and Harry to go below and go to sleep. We are in no danger just at present, but we may have hard work before us, and we can't afford to have everybody fagged out at the same time. Joe will stay here with me, in case I want him to help me. So go below, the port watch, and sleep while you can."
"Do you think we shall be drowned?" Harry whispered to Tom, as he prepared to follow him into the cabin.
"I hope we shall come through all right," replied Charley. "With that canvas over her cockpit, the boat ought to live through a pretty heavy gale. Keep up your courage. The wind may blow itself out in a little while. Anyway, we'll do our duty like men, and leave it to God to take care of us. By-the-bye, how are we off for water and provisions?"
"The water keg is full, for we filled it this morning, and we've provisions enough for three or four days, if we don't eat much."
"That's all right, then; but mind and don't drink a drop of water while you can get along without it."
Harry disappeared below the canvas, and Charley, after lacing up the opening, took two pieces of rope, one of which he passed around his waist and made it fast to the rudder-head, and the other of which he handed to Joe, and told him to lash himself to a ring-bolt in the deck. "Now, Joe," he said, "we're safe and comfortable."
"And I'm going to get wet again," replied Joe.
The two boys sat quietly munching the biscuits that Harry had passed up to them when he went below, and which were all the dinner they cared to eat. As night came on, the weather grew decidedly worse. The Ghost fairly flew before the wind, and Charley was compelled to abandon the tiller, and to steer with an oar. Luckily he had placed a socket for a rowlock at the stern of the boat when he lengthened her, and this enabled him to use a steering oar now that the Ghost kept pitching her rudder almost out of the water, and frequently refused to answer the helm. She rolled a good deal, and occasionally a shower of spray would fly over the stern, drenching Charley and Joe. Neither of them felt much like talking. Charley's whole attention was given to the work of steering, for the least carelessness or mistake might have led to the instant swamping of the boat, and Joe was too much occupied with thinking of the dangerous situation they were all in. The Ghost was certainly in an alarming situation. She was hurrying further and further out to sea, in a storm that would have tried even a stanch sea-going yacht. So far from showing any signs of improvement, the weather was constantly growing worse. The sea was heavy, and rolled after the boat as if it was about to pour over her stern, and beat her down into the depths of the ocean. At about ten o'clock Charley saw plainly that the danger was very great in continuing to scud before the wind. Had the Ghost been able to carry the close-reefed mainsail, she could have lain to with perfect safety; but he had already found that she could not bear that amount of sail. More than once the sea swirled up around her stern, and buried the after-part of the overhang. Should a rough sea fairly come on board over the stern, the Ghost would fill and sink in a moment.
"Call the other fellows, Joe," said Charley.
Tom and Harry did not wait to be called, for they were wide awake, having been far too nervous to sleep. They instantly crept out of the cabin, and stood hanging on to the main-boom, which was lashed amidships.
"We can't scud much longer," Charley said, in his cheerful voice, "and we must try to make a drag. Get out your knives, and cut the gaff loose from the sail; but mind you don't let the sail get adrift. Joe, you find one of the rubber blankets, and a lot of that heavy blue-fish line."
When the gaff was cut loose, and the mainsail made snug around the boom, Charley ordered the spare oar to be lashed at right angles across the middle of the gaff. He then showed the boys how to lash the India rubber blanket over this frame-work, so that when finished it resembled an enormous black kite. Next the cannon was lashed firmly to one end of the gaff, and finally the cable was cut loose from the anchor, passed through a hole in the middle of the blanket, and made fast to the gaff and the oar just where they crossed each other.
"Now, boys, what I'm going to do is this," said Charley, when the drag was finished. "I'm going to try to bring her head up to the wind, and let her ride, with the drag as a sea-anchor. The danger will be when she gets broadside to the sea, but it will only last a minute or two. It will be a very ticklish minute; but if she lives through it, we shall probably ride the gale out safely."
"Have we got to try it?" asked Tom.
"It is the only thing we can do. If we keep on scudding, we are certain to be swamped; but if she doesn't ship any heavy sea while the drag is bringing her up, we shall be pretty safe."
"Then we'll do it," said Tom; "and I suppose the sooner we do it, the better."
"All right," returned Charley. "Take the halyards, and take a turn around your waists, so that you won't get washed overboard. Now, when I give the word, heave the drag overboard, and stand clear of the cable, for it may catch you by the legs. Are you all ready?"
"Ready," answered Tom and Harry.
"Then haul down the jib, Joe, just as quick as possible, and the minute it's down, hang on to the mast as tight as you can. Heave away that drag."
The drag was overboard just as the jib came down. The cable ran out swiftly, and the moment the boat felt the strain of the drag, she began to swing around toward the wind. Charley helped her with his oar, working at it with frantic energy. A kind Providence befriended them, and during the long minute—which seemed at least five minutes to the anxious boys—while the Ghost was in the trough of the sea, hardly a drop of water came aboard her. The danger was over when the boat's bow was presented to the gale, and Charley, ceasing his efforts with the oar, exclaimed, in a reverent tone, "Thank God!" and then called the boys to come into the cockpit and make themselves comfortable.
"As long as the cable holds, and the drag doesn't break up, we are as safe as if we were ashore," said he, gayly.
Taking in the now useless oar, and lashing the helm amidships, Charley crept into the cockpit, where his companions joined him. They got out a box of sardines, and with the remains of a loaf of bread, they made a comfortable supper. The spray occasionally flew over the bow, and slapped the canvas, but the cockpit remained perfectly dry.
"What do you think about the drag? Is it going to hold together?" asked Tom, when the supper had made him feel a little more comfortable, and the gale seemed to his imagination less terribly dangerous.
"It's well made, and the only danger about it is that the oar may break. Even if it does, the weight of the cannon will keep the gaff perpendicular, and there will be enough of the drag left to keep us head to the sea. The cable is strong, and I don't believe we are pulling hard enough on it to snap it. I think we can feel perfectly easy, and I'm going to turn in and have a good sleep. Tom, will you keep your head out of the cabin, and keep your eyes open for the next two hours, and then call Harry to relieve you? We must have somebody on the look-out."
"Don't we need a light too?" asked Tom.
"Of course we do. Will that lantern of yours burn in this wind, Harry?"
"It ought to. It's warranted to burn in any weather; at least that's what the advertisement says."
"Then light it, and hang it up alongside of the mast. You'll have to lash it to the mast, or it will swing round and smash against it. Call me if you see a ship's light anywhere, or if the weather gets worse, or anything happens. Come on, Joe; let's have four hours of good sleep, and we shall turn out in first-rate spirits."
So saying, the young Captain wrapped himself in his blanket, and was asleep long before Joe yielded to weariness, rather than sleepiness, and sank into an uneasy slumber.
When Charley was called four hours later by Harry, he found that there was little change in the weather. The wind was still howling as fiercely as ever, and the sea was at least as heavy as it had been, although the effect of the drag was to break the seas that were sweeping down on the Ghost, so that she really felt them rather less than she had when running before the wind. Charley refilled the lantern, which had nearly burned out, examined the cable and the ring-bolt to which it was fastened to see if he could find any signs of weakness, and then, going aft, sat down and thought over the situation. He felt confident that the gale, which had come up so suddenly and fiercely, would blow itself out in the course of the next twelve hours, and he had little doubt that the boat would live through it. But the morning would certainly find the Ghost far out of sight of land, without a compass, and with only a small supply of food and water. If the sky should be clear, he could judge of the points of the compass by the sun; but it would be impossible to get the gaff on board again, and without it the boat would hardly be able to beat to windward in case the direction of the wind should not change. There was, however, a good chance that some vessel bound to New York would pick the boys up, and perhaps tow in the Ghost. While he felt that the danger of foundering was probably over, Charley could not conceal from himself that the situation was not a very encouraging one, but he never thought of losing his courage; and though he felt the responsibility of his position as the one to whom his young comrades looked for counsel and orders, he was calm and cheerful, for he knew he was doing his duty to the best of his ability.
He did not call Joe, when the latter's turn came to come on deck, for he was anxious to see the sun rise, and he knew that Joe needed sleep.
The sun rose just where he had supposed it would, and a short time afterward the wind perceptibly lessened its violence. At six o'clock he called the other boys, and told them the welcome news that the gale had broken, and that fair weather could not be far off.
"Where does all this water come from?" demanded Harry, as he awoke to find that he was lying in a pool of water. "Did we ship a sea last night after I went to sleep?"
"She may be leaking a little," replied Charley. "Pump her out, somebody, and we'll soon find out if she leaks."
Tom pumped for ten or twelve minutes, and freed the Ghost of water; but before breakfast was over, the water again made its appearance.
"She's sprung a leak sure enough," said Harry.
"The pump throws the water out faster than it comes in," replied Charley, "and that kind of a leak will never sink her. She has strained a little in this sea, but I don't think she will leak any worse than she is leaking now."
But the leak was a more serious matter than the boys supposed that it was. It increased slowly but surely, and by ten o'clock it became necessary to pump the boat out every half-hour.
"Don't be worried about it," Charley said to Joe, who was becoming alarmed at the rapidity with which the water flowed into the Ghost. "If the pump won't keep her free, we can all get to work and bail. A boat that four fellows and a pump couldn't keep afloat would be worse than a sieve."
Still, the leak was not a pleasant thing, and Charley was not quite so careless about it as he seemed to be.
Both the wind and sea had now gone down very decidedly, and the boys were hoping that before long they would be able to set the mainsail. It is true that they had no gaff, but by hooking the throat halyards into the corner of the sail, it could be converted into a rude leg-of-mutton sail, with the peak dangling and flapping in the air. Toward noon a two-masted vessel came in sight, directly to leeward of them, though too far off for them to make out her rig. They watched her carefully for an hour, and could not see that her position changed in the least, except that the distance between her and the Ghost was diminishing.
"Boys," said Charley, "I think we can venture to cut loose from the drag, and run down to that vessel under the jib. I think I can make out her jib-boom now, and if I'm not mistaken she's steering westerly. Very likely we can get her Captain to lend us a compass, or perhaps he can give us something that will do for a gaff."
"And have we got to abandon our own gaff, and the cannon, and the rubber blanket?" inquired Harry.
"There is too much sea for us to run the risk of trying to get them on board again," answered Charley. "I'm sorry to lose the cannon, for it did us good service in Hempstead Bay; but we shall never see it again. Run up the jib, Joe, and, Tom, you get hold of the cable and walk aft with it, so as to give the boat a sheer to port. We want to be quick about it, and Joe must have the hatchet ready to cut the cable the moment the jib fills."
The manœuvre was successfully accomplished, and the Ghost ran down toward the strange vessel. As she neared the stranger, the latter proved to be a deserted brig. Her sails were all furled except the maintopsail, which had blown out of the bolt-ropes, and she was evidently water-logged, for she was very low in the water, and occasionally a wave seemed to wash clear over her, as she rolled in the trough of the sea.
"We've wasted our time," cried Tom. "She's worse off than we are."
"That may be," said Charley, "but I think we had better try to get on board of her. She isn't going to sink, for she must have had all the water in her that she will hold a long while ago. Let's board her anyhow, and see if we can get a compass."
BOARDING THE WATER-LOGGED BRIG.
It was a delicate matter to board the brig with the sea that was still running. The Ghost was brought around her stern, and near enough to her main-chains for Tom to leap into them with a rope in his hand, while Charley, using an oar as a fender, prevented the brig and the boat from coming together. The rope, which was the peak halyard, used as a painter, was made fast to the brig, and then the Ghost was carefully hauled up, until Harry was near enough to jump. The same process was repeated until the other two boys had joined Tom and Harry, and then the Ghost was permitted to drift away as far as her painter would let her. Climbing into the main-rigging, so as to be out of the reach of the water, the boys remained long enough to see that the seas which came on board the brig were not heavy enough to be dangerous. She was apparently a French vessel, and Charley thought that she was probably loaded with timber. The quarter-deck was dry, except for the spray which now and then flew over it, and the boys felt no fear in coming down from the rigging, and looking into the binnacle to see if the compass was still there. The moment Charley saw the compass, he cried out: "Boys, the wind has changed, and is very nearly southeast. What do you say to sailing the brig into New York, and getting a pile of salvage money?"
"Will she sail?" asked Tom.
"Can we sail her?" asked Harry.
"She's awfully wet," remarked Joe.
"I think we can sail her into port if the wind holds, and her steering gear is all right, as it looks to be. I say let's try it. We can tow the Ghost, and she will always be ready for us if we want to abandon the brig."
"Don't let's decide in a hurry," said Tom. "It will be slow work getting this water-logged vessel into New York, and I don't believe we have fresh-water enough to last us more than two days longer."
"There's a water cask on deck right in plain sight," exclaimed Charley. "I can see from here that the bung is in, so it must have fresh-water in it. Hold on till I try the wheel. There! I told you so. The rudder and steering gear are all right. Now if you'll agree to try what we can do with the brig, I'll jump up and loose the fore-topsail, and we'll have it set in a jiffy. Come, now, it's a splendid chance for us, and we ought not to lose it."
"Go ahead, Charley," cried the boys, catching their leader's enthusiasm. "Give us our orders, and we'll sail the brig in if we can do it."
"Then come forward with me, and we'll set the head-sails, and get her out of the trough of the sea."
[to be continued.]
['TIS HARD TO BELIEVE.]
BY MARGARET EYTINGE.
Very-warm was the day, very drowsy and still,
And the farmer sat reading the news;
And the wife of the farmer was milking the cow,
And his eldest son blacking his shoes;
And the ma of the farmer was on the back porch
Making apple and blackberry pies,
With the farmer's wee girl in a chair by her side,
Looking at her with sleepy blue eyes.
And the maid in the kitchen was washing the plates,
With many "Oh, dears!" and "Oh, mys!"
And the house-dog was lying upon the door-mat,
A-lazily snapping at flies,
When some Naps, just escaped from the country of Nod,
Came noiselessly flying that way;
And the funniest pranks that small Naps ever played,
In a moment they managed to play.
From the hands of the farmer the paper they snatched,
From his head jerked the kerchief of silk;
And they tumbled his wife from her stool 'gainst the cow,
And away went the pail of new milk.
They jogged the boy's elbow, and up flew his arm,
And the blacking splashed over his nose;
And they charmed the poor maid with a nice little dream,
And then dropped a big plate on her toes.
Close together they brought Pompey's teeth with a bang,
Just catching the tip of his tongue;
And the ma of the farmer they teased, till at last
Half her fruit in the garden she flung.
And they closed Baby's eyes, and she slid from the chair,
And lay on the floor in a heap;
And yet these same Naps, though 'tis hard to believe,
Are the children of quiet Dame Sleep.
"A FAIR EXCHANGE."—From a Painting by Meyer von Bremen.
[TAKING HIS PLACE.]
BY LILLIE E. BARR.
"Oh, Charlie! Why did you do it? On my birthday too! I am so sorry, for now you will miss all the fun of the Fourth." And as she spoke, Mary sat down, dangling her broad hat by one string, and looked disconsolately at her brother, who had been sent to bed as a punishment.
"How was I to know that just a little bunch of fire-crackers like that was going to smash the goblet? I did not think it would do anything but just lift it up some."
"Who told you to do such a thing, Charlie?"
"Nobody; I thought of it myself. Oh dear! I wish I had a grandma, or an aunt, or somebody like that!"
"What for, Charlie? I am sure nobody could be half so good as mamma."
"I like grandmas and aunts. Eddie Bates has a grandmamma, and she always gets him out of scrapes; and Tom Taylor has an aunt that does lots of things for him. People ought not to get married if they don't have mothers and sisters to make grandmas and aunts for fellows who are always getting blamed for nothing at all."
"But, Charlie, you did break the glass."
"No, I didn't either; the fire-crackers broke it. Oh, dear! dear! I wish there wasn't any Fourth of July, nor fire-crackers, nor nothing! What's the use of fire-crackers, if a fellow can't fire them off? It was real mean to let me spend all my money on fire-crackers, and then not let me have any fun with them. There's my pin-wheel too. I promised Bates to fasten it to the top of the highest clothes-pole in his back yard to-night."
"I am so sorry, Charlie dear!"
"And, Mary, I am so dreadfully hot. I have got a raging fever; I know I have."
"Why do you not say you are sorry?" suggested Mary.
"Didn't I say so?—over, and over, and over. And father just said he thought bed was the best place for boys who exploded fire-crackers under goblets. If I was a father, and wanted to kill a boy, I'd do it out and out, and not roast him to death in bed on a Fourth of July. I wouldn't for millions of dollars send a poor boy to bed on his sister's eighth birthday." But what particular attention was due to his sister's eighth birthday Charlie did not explain.
"You knew the crackers would break the goblet."
"No, I didn't; I never saw them smash one. Didn't they bang, though?" And at the recollection Charlie's eyes grew bright, and a delighted expression illumined his sombre little face. The next moment, however, he was crying bitterly; and Mary, having watched him a moment, ran down stairs, just in time to stop her father as he was going out.
"Papa, please forgive Charlie. He is so sorry, and he wants to go out so much!"
"He must have a lesson, Mary, that will teach him not to be so destructive." But he added, smiling, "If you choose to take his place, Charlie may go out."
Mary bounded away to her brother's room. "Papa says you may go out, Charlie. Get up, dear."
Charlie needed no second bidding, and he asked no questions. Five minutes later he was explaining to Eddie Bates the principles upon which he had blown a goblet all to smithereens in his back yard.
What a glorious Fourth it was! Charlie did not go home until tea-time. He would not have gone then, but that his pin-wheel and the rockets were under his clean shirts in the bottom drawer of his bureau, and must be gone for.
Up stairs he ran, as gay as a cricket, and burst into his room. "Let me see; they are in this one. Bother! Where did I put them?"
"What are you looking for, Charlie?"
"What are you doing in bed?"
"Taking your place."
"What!"
"Papa said if I would take your place, you might go out; and girls do not care much about the Fourth of July," said Mary, cheerily.
"And you have been in bed all day?"
"Of course; papa said you were to stay in bed all day, and I am taking your place."
"But you are not me."
"But I am your substitute."
"Oh, Mary, you dear, dear, darling sister! you are better than all the grandmothers and aunts in the world: catch them going to bed a whole day for a fellow!" cried Charlie, kissing her proudly.
"I am very, very glad I took your place, Charlie."
"You get up now, Mary, and I'll give you my pin-wheel and my rockets, and you and Ella Bates can fire them all off. I wouldn't be so mean as to let you lie there any longer," said Charlie, beginning to remove his coat.
"That will do, Charlie," said papa, coming into the room. "Get up, my little daughter; Charlie has learned his lesson, I am sure."
"Indeed I have, papa, and I am real sorry."
That same evening Eddie Bates was boasting to a crowd of boys about his grandmother having saved him from an evening of sorrow in his own room, when Charlie spoke up:
"Grandmas and aunts are all well enough, boys, but sisters are a heap better. You just listen." And in a voice of pride and love he related his sister's generous act.
And the gay little crowd gave Mary three cheers and a tiger, besides firing off nine starry rockets simultaneously in her honor.
[BOBBY BOY AND ROBIN BIRD.]
BY KITTY CLOVER.
"Oh, Robin, Robin bird,
Wise as wise can be,
Why do you sit on the chestnut bough,
Nodding your head at me?
Haven't you any work to do,
Hopping about all day?
Is it the whole of a Robin's life
To whistle, and eat, and play?"
"Oh, Bobby, Bobby boy,
Why shouldn't I look at you?
If I am only a little bird,
I have plenty of work to do.
Don't you whistle, and eat, and play,
And play, and whistle, and eat?
Don't I see you at breakfast-time,
And out in the sunny street?"
"Yes, but Robin, Robin bird,
I study as well as play;
I'm half-way through my spelling-book,
And many a lesson I say;
But you don't have any books to read,
A life that you must enjoy;
I wish I was only a Robin bird,
Instead of a Bobby boy."
"Ah, Bobby, Bobby boy,
You don't know what you say;
There's nobody longing to eat you up,
Whenever you go to play;
There's nobody ready to hunt your nest,
And steal your innocent brood,
Or shoot you at sight with a horrid gun
If you venture into the wood.
"But yonder the cat sits blinking
Her great green eyes, you see;
She'd break every bone in my body
If she got her claws on me.
I never can be any other
Than only a Robin, you know,
While you, perhaps, from a little boy,
A tall, strong man, will grow,
"And maybe win fame and honor,
Wherever your name is heard,
While my greatest-grandson Robin
Will be nothing but a bird.
So don't be idly wishing,
For God knew best, you see,
When He made you a pretty Bobby boy,
Instead of a Robin like me."
QUEEN ELIZABETH AT THE AGE OF SIXTEEN.—From a Painting by Millais.