“And I,” remarked Rand, who roomed almost across the corridor, “will probably hear you later!”
[CHAPTER XXIII]
SPORT ON THE RIVER
Alf’s prophecy regarding the weather on Saturday proved correct. It turned out to be a perfect spring day—warm and bright, with just enough breeze from the marshes to keep one from feeling lazy. By half past ten the river bank in the vicinity of the boat-house was alive with contestants and spectators, all in a very light-hearted mood. Many of the fellows who were to take part in the races had had to make up for the lack of bathing suits as best they could, and some of the improvised costumes appealed strongly to the humor of the throng, and elicited good-natured comment and criticism.
Mr. Bendix, assisted by two of the instructors and some of the older boys, had been kept pretty busy, but the first event, a quarter of a mile canoe race for single paddles, was called only a few minutes behind the scheduled time. The competitors started near Flat Island and paddled down river with the current, finishing just below the boat-house. This race had fourteen entries, and proved one of the most exciting events of the morning. The boys, kneeling in the sterns of the light craft, dug their paddles for all that was in them, and for the first two hundred yards it was a mad scramble for position. The river was so narrow that not more than four or five canoes could stay abreast, and there were some exciting moments until the fortunate ones had proved their right to precedence. There were two upsets, which only added to the fun and confusion. Most of the audience raced along the river path, encouraging their respective heroes at the tops of their voices; and had an outsider wandered on the scene, he would doubtless have jumped to the conclusion that he had unwittingly stumbled into the grounds of a lunatic asylum!
A hundred yards from the finish, the race had narrowed down to three canoes, in one of which Tom Roeder was doing finely. But Tom had luck against him that day, for near the line he broke his paddle short off above the blade; and, although he tried desperately to finish out with what was left him, Graydon, a Second-Class boy, won by two canoe lengths.
The diving competition followed, while some fifteen or sixteen adventurous youths were preparing for the barrel race. Dan, in spite of his having, in his own words, invented diving, was outclassed by many of his rivals, and failed to win even, as Alf put it, a kind word! The barrel race proved excruciatingly funny. Most of the entrants were Preparatory or Fourth-Class youngsters, but one chap, a long, lanky youth named Prince, was participating for the honor of the First Class. It was Prince who afforded most of the fun. It is no easy matter to bestride a barrel, using your feet for paddles to propel yourself, even when you are short and the center of gravity is near the surface of the water. When you measure nearly six feet you find that keeping on the barrel, which displays a most aggravating propensity to roll and tip, is almost impossible. And once off, to regain your position is a feat demanding patience and perseverance—especially perseverance. Prince was in the water most of the time, generally with one long leg pointing skyward over the top of his craft.
It was a wild scene. The distance to be traversed was less than fifty feet, but none of the boys could keep their places that long, and so the water was filled with rolling barrels and struggling youths, while from the shore came laughter and shouts of encouragement. In the end a small, stout, pink-and-white Preparatory boy crossed the line, both legs around the barrel and his head under water, amid the wild acclaim of the onlookers. After that event the tub race was comparatively tame, and many of the spectators followed the competitors in the half-mile canoe race up the river, to the starting point above Flat Island.
There were seven canoes entered, each with its crew of two boys. In one canoe were Tom and Alf, and in another Dan and Paul Rand. Every one wore a bathing suit or trunks—or their equivalent!—and all were prepared for a ducking. And three of the seven crews were not disappointed. They were sent off side by side, but the stream was too narrow for them to stay in that position, and so there was a merry battle for the right of way in which paddles were sometimes used in a manner not provided for in the rules of the contest. Two canoes were overturned then and there, while the third upset occurred half way down the course, when Goodyear and Teller, being all intent on keeping up with Tom and Alf, ran into a snag at the side of the stream. They managed to pull the canoe up, empty out the water, and re-embark in what must have been record time, but the others hadn’t waited for them; and, though they managed to make up some of the lost distance, they were never dangerous.