Author of "The Moral Pirates," "The Cruise of the 'Ghost,'" etc., etc.
Chapter XI.
It sometimes blows very hard on the St. Lawrence. It blew especially hard the morning the young canoeists returned to the banks of the great river from their excursion up the Jacques Cartier. As far as they could see, the St. Lawrence was covered with white-caps. The wind blew directly up the river, and a heavy sea was breaking on the little island which lay opposite the mouth of the Jacques Cartier. Paddling against such a wind and sea would have been nearly impossible, and the boys resolved to wait until the wind should go down.
The day was a long one, for there was nothing to do but to watch the men at work in the saw-mill, and to look out on the river to see if the wind and sea had gone down. It continued to blow hard all day and all night, and when Harry awoke his comrades at five o'clock the next morning it was blowing as hard as ever.
Nobody wanted to spend another day at the saw-mill. Although the wind was blowing up the river, the tide was ebbing, and would help the canoes to make some little progress, in spite of the wind and sea. So after a hurried breakfast the fleet got under way at six o'clock, and gallantly breasted the waves.
The boys found that paddling against so strong a head-wind was harder than they had imagined that it could be. It was almost impossible to force the upper blade of the paddle through the air when trying to make a stroke, and it was only by turning the two paddle-blades at right angles to one another, so that the upper blade would present its edge to the wind, that this could be done. The seas were so large that the two canoes which were leading would often be entirely invisible to the other canoes, though they were but a few yards apart. The Twilight, as was her habit when driven against head-seas, threw spray all over herself, and the Dawn exhibited her old vice of trying to dive through the seas. The other canoes were dry enough, but they presented more resistance to the wind, and hence were harder to paddle.
Little was said during the first half-hour, for everybody was working too hard at the paddle to have any breath to spare for talking; but finally Harry, who was in the advance with Charley, slackened his stroke, and hailing Joe and Tom, asked them how they were getting along.
"Wet as usual," replied Joe. "The water is pretty near up to my waist in the canoe, and two waves out of three wash right over her. But I don't care; I'll paddle as long as anybody else will."
"My canoe will float, unless the bladders burst," said Tom, "but I'll have to stop and bail out before long, or she'll be so heavy that I can't stir her."
"Never mind," cried Joe. "Look at the splendid time we're making. We've come nearly a quarter of a mile, and that means that we're paddling at the rate of half a mile an hour. At this rate we'll get somewhere in the course of the summer."