“Yes; you shall have your pay as soon as you land us on the other side.”
Once more the company embarked. The sky was heavily overcast, and the south wind that had sprung up during the afternoon had increased almost to a gale. The tide was setting strongly northward; the white caps were riding the crests of the waves; and when they were fairly out into the stream, the boats rocked and plunged violently. The timid ones clung to the sides and the benches in fear, and the rowers labored strenuously to push the heavily laden vessels through the beating waves. Once the rear boat, by some mischance, shipped a heavy sea, and the drenched lads cried out in terror.
The river is narrow at this point, and the time occupied in crossing would not have been very great if the water had been smooth. As it was, darkness was settling down when both boats reached the western shore; and besides being hungry and excessively fatigued, many of the lads were weak from fright after the terrors of the rough passage.
Brightly paid the boatman the fee agreed upon, and, with Glück leading, the party turned again to the south, and soon began to wind up the hill to the tableland back from the river.
It was nearly two miles to Glück’s uncle’s farm, and long before they reached the place thick darkness had fallen on them from a starless sky. They said little as they toiled up the long stretches of hilly road; the time for song and jest and play was long past; the only words that escaped their lips now were words of suffering.
To all of them the physical discomforts resulting from hunger and fatigue were extreme; and for many of them, especially the smaller boys, the strangeness of the situation and the darkness of the night added a touch of terror. Patchy was crying softly as he stumbled on, holding fast to Brightly’s hand, and it would have taken but slight provocation to bring tears to the eyes of many others.
Finally lights were seen gleaming through the trees a little distance away, and Glück declared that they were approaching the house. He had spent a month there during the preceding summer vacation, and knew the place well. The party waited outside by the gate while Glück went in to acquaint his uncle with the situation, and to bespeak his kind offices. It seemed to the weary lads, who had only to stand in the darkness and listen to the barking and the growling of the dogs, that their spokesman was a long time gone.
Glück told them afterward that he had great difficulty in making the honest German farmer believe that his tale was true. But the door was opened at last, the light shone out cheerily from it, and Glück’s voice was heard saying, “It’s all right boys! You’re to come in.”
They entered the house, and were greeted good-naturedly by the astonished farmer and his still more astonished wife. Places to sit were found for the exhausted lads in the sitting-room and kitchen, and the German host moved around among them smoking a drooping pipe, and exclaiming,—
“Vell! vell! Uf I don’t see it myself, I don’t haf pelieved it! Heinrich,” turning to his nephew, “was ist los’ mit der schule, ha? Vell! vell!”