"It beats all," returned Hardman, as a flying stick struck him on the head and knocked him over. But he was up in a moment, vigorously rubbing the place. "Jimminy Isaacs! Lucky the women are in the boat," he yelled out.
"Is it, though?" cried the Corporal, as a wild shout came from the stormy bay beneath them.
"Ba gosh! Vat's de matter wid de Bumble Bee?" yelled Bateese, who, after crawling from beneath a stack of pine poles, rushed to their side. There was commotion down there, no doubt, though what it was the darkness hid from view. Away went Bateese, running with tremendous strides and followed by others, realizing that possibly the women might be in danger.
Protected from wind and wave by the island already mentioned, the ice between the latter and the shore withstood the force of the tempest the longest. At the northern end of the protected channel lay the Bumble Bee, and while stationary in the ice, the storm failed to rouse the occupants. The sudden veering of the wind, however, changed the flattened surface into a boiling cauldron. Tumultuously, the ice, worn thin by the prolonged thaw, was broken into fragments, and the little ship, frozen solid at her moorings for the whole of the winter, was suddenly cast loose upon the waters.
Latimer and his wife were both roused by the lurch of the boat. As an old seaman, he knew at once what had happened. The rudder, too, was gone, and he called loudly for assistance. At the same moment the women screamed, for the boat tossed like a cockle shell beneath them.
"Be easy, now," cried Latimer. "Don't make fools of yourselves! This ain't the first sail the Bumble Bee ever made."
"If it ain't the first, it's the last," retorted his wife, fiercely.
"Bet your bottom dollar she'll make many another yet. Hello, Bateese! Ketch this rope when I throw it."
But the distance was too great.
"Hold on, wait a meenit," and Bateese ran to a pile of young beeches that had been cut as pike poles for building.