It was a cloudy and threatening day. The wind was from the southeast, and blew with a freshness that promised a severe storm before night.
Perhaps it was on this account that Mr. Noman had directed the boy to engage in this particular work. He was himself obliged to be away on business, and this was a job at which Matt could work alone, and the weather was hardly propitious for any other undertaking. So, immediately after breakfast, Matt yoked the oxen to the cart and started for his first load.
“There ain’t over four loads more down there, an’ if ye work spry ye can git it all up by night!” Mr. Noman shouted after him, as he drove off.
The distance from the barn to the “humps” was such that, with the roughness of the way, one load for each half-day had usually been regarded as a sufficient task for the slow-walking oxen.
But Matt knew he had an early start, and he determined to do his best to bring all the weed home that day. He therefore quickened the pace of the animals, and before nine o’clock had made his first return to the yard.
Unloading with haste, he immediately started back for his second load. When he crossed from the north to the south hump,
he noticed the incoming tide was nearly across the roadway, but thought little of it.
On examining the heap of seaweed, he became convinced that by loading heavily he could carry what remained at two loads.
He therefore pitched away until in his judgment half of the heap was upon the cart. It made a big load, but the oxen were stout, and, bending their necks to the yoke, they, at Matt’s command, started slowly off.
As he approached the narrow roadway, he noticed the tide had gained rapidly and was now sweeping over it with considerable force and depth.