Fire in the Woods / Illustrated

by James De Mille

Pat spoke in a coaxing tone, just as though he was asking some favor from Phil.

At this request Phil pushed the oar along the surface of the water with one hand, using the other to keep himself afloat. The boat was near enough for him to reach it, and Pat, stooping down, grasped it. Then pulling at it, he drew Phil towards him, until at length he also was able to grasp the boat.

“Now,” said Pat, “I’ll take the oar, and you jist climb up here.”

He took the oar in one hand, and reached out his other to assist Phil. Pat’s help was of great value in such a difficult task, and by means of it Phil was at length able to clamber up, and straddle upon the boat behind his friend. They found, to their delight, that the boat supported both of them with the greatest ease. Now, had it been filled with water in its ordinary position, right side up, it could scarcely have given assistance to one of them; but as it was, it gave the most perfect support to both of them. The reason is easy to explain. When a boat is turned completely over, bottom upwards, so suddenly as this was, there always remains a certain amount of air confined inside. This gives it an immense amount of buoyancy, and until that air all escapes that buoyancy continues. Of course, after a time the air will all escape, and then the boat must sink beneath the weight imposed upon it. But if the boat is tight, the air will be retained, and consequently the buoyancy will remain for a long time. Now, fortunately for Phil and Pat, the boat that they had was new, and well calked, and as tight as possible; and so there was no immediate danger. Fortunately also for them, they had thus far suffered nothing from cold; for it was the end of July, and the water was rather warm, and the air was warm also. And so, though they had experienced such a plunge into the water, and such a prolonged immersion, and though they now sat thus in their wet clothes, yet, after all, they suffered nothing whatever from either damp or chill, but, on the whole, were rather comfortable than otherwise.

Thus far they had uttered no cry for help, nor had they heard any call of any human voice that might indicate the neighborhood of any human sympathy. They had passed under the suspension bridge. They had swept past shores that were crowded on either side with wharves, houses, and steam saw-mills, but as yet had seen no efforts to assist them. In fact, as it afterwards proved, no one had noticed them. Whether it was that every one was busy, or that they had been carelessly regarded as an ordinary boat in its ordinary position, could not be known; certain it was that no one offered to assist them. Thus, then, they swept along, until at length they reached the place where the river enters the harbor. Just here, the boat, in its drift, came near to the oar which Pat had dropped when he clambered into it. He grasped Phil’s oar, and reaching out, he drew it towards him and regained possession of it.

“There’s no knowin,” said he, “what use this may be. It’s best to take it whin it comes to us handy.”

Saying this, he gave Phil one oar, and keeping the other himself, he waited for some chance of escape.

But their troubles were far from ending as yet, and soon the prospect of escape was removed still farther from them. For as they reached the place where the river enters the harbor, just as they saw a man on the beach, and began to shout to him to try and attract his attention, they drifted on, and plunged into a thick, dense cloud of fog.

That fog was no common fog. It was the advance guard of a fog that covered the bay, and seemed to be thrown forward into the harbor to take possession and hold it until the main army should be ready to advance. It was dense, damp, and obscure. Through this they passed, trying to peer through the gloom, and find out where they might be going. Several times they shouted, but soon found out the uselessness of this. For the noise and riot all around showed them that shouting was simply absurd. Around them they heard the yell of steam whistles from tug-boats, from ferry-boats, and from what seemed to be a thousand other places. For it was now about midday, and that is the time when all the steam whistles of all the steam saw-mills of the city let off one simultaneous blast. The yells seemed to arise in every conceivable direction. Amid such an uproar, their loudest cries were feeble, and could not be heard; so they soon became convinced of the uselessness of this, and remained silent, but watchful. Watchfulness, however, was equally useless; for if it is in vain that one shouts amid the yells of steam whistles, so it is equally in vain that one tries to keep up a watch in the midst of a dense fog. Watching could reveal nothing but that obscurity which surrounded them.

In this way, then, they drifted down the harbor, while the steam whistles were yelling around them so as to stifle all their cries for help, and while the fog was gathering round them in its dense folds so as to obscure their sight. But the boat bore them well, and it was at least a subject of rejoicing to them that they were thus seated in comparative comfort on that boat, instead of floating tip to their chins in the water, clinging to their oars.