CHAPTER II. TO THE RESCUE
A person leaving the wharf at Southport would ordinarily take one ofthree roads: the one directly ahead leading up through the village andpast the hotel; the one to the left passing by, though at some distancefrom, the cottages that were scattered irregularly along the south shoreof the bay; the road to the right leading similarly to the cottages onthat shore. The shore there, however, made a deep sweep, bordering on acove of some considerable extent.
From the shore in all directions the land sloped back, with a gradualrise for about a mile. Cottages dotted the slope here and there.
To the right of the wharf and the farthest away from it of any dwellingwas the Warren cottage. Somewhat hidden in a grove of spruce-trees, itsbroad piazza commanded a fine view of the bay and the islands in thedistance.
On this particular evening, however, there was little inducement of windor weather for one to linger there. The rain, driven by the wind throughfluttering tree-branches, dashed itself against the cottage windows asthough the drops were drawn, like moths, to the light which shone fromwithin; then fell in pools and was swept away by driving gusts. Nought tobe seen there now but sea and sky in wild commotion; darkness in all theair, blackness over all the bay.
But, despite the dreariness of the storm outside, there was pleasingcomfort within the cottage. The increasing darkness of the night, thedashing rain and the noisy wind, like unwelcome guests, came only to thethreshold and gained no admittance. A fire of driftwood blazed in the bigstone fireplace, and the soft rays shed by a lamp suspended from theceiling further lighted up the cosy room.
There were four occupants of the room. Mrs. Warren, a sweet-faced, cheerylittle woman, and the three brothers, were seated about the fire. Theywere conversing earnestly, and, as the talk progressed, it seemed asthough the influence of the storm was getting into the room.
"It's no use, mother," said George Warren, who stood in front of thefireplace, facing the others, "trying to make us think that Tom and Bobdid not start to cross the bay. Ever since the boys were out in the bigstorm on Moosehead Lake they've been afraid of nothing. Tom Harrisdeclares his canoe will stand as rough a sea as a dory,--and, what'smore, the storm hadn't begun by the time they must have left the mouth ofthe river."
"Yes, but Captain Chase would warn them not to cross."
"I've no doubt he did, mother; and, if he did, that might make it so muchthe worse. If the boys had been in a sailboat they probably would havelistened to him; but the captain would sneer at that canoe, and wouldlike as not tell them it wasn't fit to cross the bay in at any time, muchless in rough water. And that would be just enough to put them on theirmettle. They'd make the attempt, even if they had to put back."
"Yes, and Tom said in the note that they would be here to-night," brokein young Joe. "And when he gave that to Captain Chase to bring, it showedhe meant to start, anyway."
"But when the storm increased they would put back," urged Mrs. Warren.
"No," answered George, "they must have gotten two-thirds of the wayacross the bay before the worst of the storm broke. The storm seemed tohold up for an hour or two during the latter part of the afternoon, andthen increased all of a sudden with the turn of the tide. The boys wouldhave gotten so far across that it would be too late to turn back, andthey would have to keep on."
"And yet you boys want to imitate their recklessness!" cried Mrs. Warren,impatiently. "Come, Arthur," and she turned to the boy who had remainedsilent thus far during the discussion. "Help me convince your brothers oftheir mistake. You don't agree with them, I am sure."
The boy thus addressed, though a year younger than his elder brother, wasthe one on whose judgment the mother more often relied. He was fully asactive as the other two, but his was a calmer temperament than theirs.This confidence in him really extended to his brothers, though they jokedhim on his moderate, studious ways, and called him the "professor,"because he was a little near-sighted and sometimes wore glasses. He cameforward now and stood by his mother's chair.
"I can't help thinking, mother, that George and Joe are right," he said,deliberately, while poor Mrs. Warren gasped with dismay. "You wouldn'thave us play the parts of cowards while the boys may be in danger, andwhen we can perhaps save them. There isn't half the danger you imagine,either. The wind is blowing now squarely from the east, and once we havebeaten out of the cove we can sail alongshore without heading out to sea.
"Then, too," he continued, "the yacht is nearly new, and was fitted withnew rigging this year. We'll promise to sail only a little past the headof the island and return, or run into Bryant's Cove and walk back. It'sno more than we ought to do for the best friends we've got. There's notanother sailboat in the harbour to-night that is as stiff as ours, exceptJack Harvey's, and it's out of the question to ask him. The other boatswent out to the races at Seal Harbour, or we would get Captain Sam to goin his yacht. We can't ask Jack Harvey to go--that's certain."
"Wouldn't he laugh at us, though!" said George. "He would offer to towour boat along, too, or something of that sort, just to be mean, and thenthere'd be a nice row."
Besieged on all sides, Mrs. Warren could but yield a partial consent.
"You and George can go," she said, turning to Arthur, "but Joe must staywith me. I can't spare you all to take such an awful risk."
"I won't stay!" cried young Joe, hotly. "That is to say, I--I don't wantto," he hastened to add, as Mrs. Warren looked reproachfully at him."They need me to help sail the _Spray_,--don't you, fellows?"
"There ought to be three to manage the boat in this wind," said George,somewhat reluctantly. "I guess you'll have to let him go, mother--"
But at this moment there was the sound of footsteps upon the piazza. Someone walked around the house, gave a premonitory knock at the door, andlet himself in.
It was Henry Burns. He was equipped for the storm, in oilskins, rubberboots, and a tarpaulin hat. The water ran from his clothing in littlestreams and made a series of pools on the polished wood floor. DecliningMrs. Warren's offer of a seat, on the ground that he was too wet, HenryBurns stood by the mantel near the fireplace, and, with tarpaulinremoved, still looked the pale and delicate student, despite his roughgarments.
"Ahoy there, shipmates," he said, with great gravity, waving thetarpaulin at the group. "You weren't thinking of cruising for your healththis evening, were you? Because, if you were, my health isn't as good asit might be, and I think a little salt air would do it good."
"Bravo!" cried George Warren. "You might know Henry Burns would be onhand if there was any excitement going on. Never knew him to fail,--Joe,you'll have to stay at home now and keep mother company. We don't needmore than three. Come, Arthur, hurry! We mustn't lose a minute longer."
And while young Joe turned away, almost in tears at the verdict, theother two boys scrambled about, hastily donning reefers, oilskins, andheavy boots. Then they were gone with a rush and a bang of the door, andMrs. Warren and Joe composed themselves as best they could to await theirreturn.
And could any of them have imagined then, looking forth through thedarkness and the storm, an overturned canoe pounding helplessly upon thebeach of that island shore, it surely would not have comforted thewatchers nor have given courage to those who went forth to rescue.
Descending the bank to the shore of the cove, the boys quickly launched arowboat, the tender to the yacht, and, with Henry Burns seated in thestern, tiller-ropes in hand, the brothers, about equal in strength,pulled vigorously across the cove, where the sloop lay at anchor underthe lee of the bluff. It was no easy task to cross the cove in that sea;and often Henry Burns turned the boat from its course and headed outtoward the entrance, to meet some enormous wave that, had it broken overthe side of the boat, would have filled and swamped it.
The yacht _Spray_, sheltered as it was from the brunt of the storm, wastossing about uneasily as the boys climbed aboard and made the tenderfast astern. It was a small craft, about twenty
-five feet over all, withthe hull painted black. It was trim and was able for its size, but, safeto say, not a fisherman in the village would have cared to put out in itthis night. Still, the boat had been built on an outer island of the bayfor fishing in heavy weather, and was seaworthy.
There were three sets of reefing-points in the mainsail, and, after somediscussion, it was decided to reef the sail down to its smallest size.While Henry Burns hoisted the sail slightly, the brothers hastily tied inthe reefs, and the halyards were then drawn taut at throat and peak andmade fast. The tender was tied to the buoy. There was no use trying totow it in that sea. Then, with George Warren at the tiller, Arthur andHenry Burns cast off, and the voyage was begun.
When Mr. Warren purchased the boat for his boys, he had it rigged withespecial care for an emergency. The main-sheet was rigged to run througha double set of pulleys, so that the mainsail could be hauled withcomparative ease in a heavy gale. The sail he had cut down smaller thanthe boat had been carrying, so there was less danger of her capsizing.That very precaution was, however, to prove a source of trouble on thisparticular night.
Arthur Warren and Henry Burns now came aft, the iron centreboard wasdropped, and the yacht was almost instantly under headway, standing outby the bluff and heading almost directly across the cove. Arthur Warrenheld the main-sheet, while Henry Burns seated himself, with feet bracedagainst the centreboard-box, ready for any emergency.
For a moment they were in comparatively smooth water, and then, as theyemerged from the lee of the headland, it seemed as though they had beensuddenly transported into another sea. The wind that struck them careenedthe boat over violently, as they were as yet under but little headway.Easing the yacht for a moment with the sheet, they righted somewhat, butthe prospect was not pleasing. The _Spray_ did not head into the windwell, and they soon found they could not make even a straight courseacross the harbour, with the slant of wind they had.
"We may make something on the next tack," said George, "but it doesn'tlook very encouraging."
"Supposing you see how she comes about before we run in near shore,"suggested Arthur, after some minutes.
In answer, George put the tiller hard down, after giving the little boata good headway. The yacht went sluggishly in stays, hung almost in theeye of the wind for a moment, and then, failing to make headway againstthe heavy seas, fell off once more and would not come about.
"There's only one thing we can do, boys," said George. "We must run inunder the shelter of the wharf and shake out that last reef. The sail istoo small to reef down so close. I'm sure she will beat under a doublereef. It's the only thing left to do."
It was the work of but a few minutes to carry out this plan. The thirdreef was shaken out and the sail hoisted. Once more the yacht emergedfrom shelter. The change for the better in its working was at onceapparent. It pointed higher into the wind, though careening over so thatthe water came unpleasantly near the top of the high wash-boards. But theyacht would stand this. The question now to be tested was, would she actand come about under the still small sail she was carrying against theforce of such a sea.
"Now, then," said George, as they neared the bluff again, "we will tryher once more. If she fails now we are beaten. We cannot carry more sail.That's sure."
He put the tiller down as he spoke, and the _Spray_, responding bravely,headed into the seas. They strove angrily to overwhelm the little craft,and dashed furiously against her bows, while the wind worried theflapping sails as though it would tear them from boom and mast; but the_Spray_ held on and came about nobly, and they were away again on theother tack, standing across the harbour.
It seemed an hour before they had beaten out where they dared to standpast the bluff and head alongshore. They had left all shelter hopelesslybehind; on one side of them a wilderness of foaming waves rushed uponthem from the darkness; on the other side lay the lee shore, high androck-bound for the most part, but now and then broken by small stretchesof beach. Against the former, the seas broke with heavy crashings; uponthe other, with an ominous booming.
But they headed off the wind a trifle, eased the sheet, made by thepoint, and stood along the shore as near as they dared to run. It waswell for them that the little yacht was a good sea boat. Again and again,as some wave, lifting its white crest above the others, threatened tooverwhelm them, the yacht was headed out to sea, and then the wave,lifting the boat high on its crest and rolling rapidly from beneath ittill half the length of the yacht seemed poised in air, left it to fallheavily upon the next oncoming wave, or, worse still, to plunge into awatery gulf, there to be half-buried by the next big sea.
But the yacht lived through it all and kept bravely on its course. HenryBurns's arms ached with bailing out the cockpit, where the seas broke inover the quarter, or came aboard in clouds of spray as they headed intothe wind.
They dared not sail near the shore, and could see it but indistinctly,save when some larger wave broke upon the beach and carved out a whiteline of foam, which vanished as quickly as it appeared. So against thecliffs that they passed they could see a sudden blur of white as a bigwave hurled itself to destruction. Beyond this all was blear andindistinct.
They were now within half a mile of the head of the island, and, lookingahead into the darkness, which, with the rain, had greatly increasedwithin the last hour, like the beginning of a fog, they realized howuseless was the search they had begun. They could see but the merestdistance in any direction. The storm was steadily increasing, and alreadya new condition confronted them. The wind was shifting to the southeast,from east, so that their return was rendered impossible. It was worsethan folly to think of beating back in such a head sea. The wind on theirquarter was driving them along furiously. It was madness to dream ofkeeping on past the head of the island.
"We can't make Bryant's Cove any too soon to suit me," said George. "The_Spray_ has got more wind now than she knows what to do with."
The little boat was, indeed, burying her bows under at every plunge, andtrembled in all her timbers at the fearful strain. It was plain that shehad reached the limit of her seaworthiness. Bryant's Cove was a shortdistance around the head of the island. Once there, they would besheltered from the storm.
The boys had ceased to speak of a possible rescue of their friends. Itwas a question of their own salvation now, and the instinct ofself-preservation asserted itself. Henry Burns peered eagerly ahead, butlooked only for the point of land behind which lay their safety. Suddenlyhe turned and uttered a shrill cry of fright, such as no one had everheard from him before.
"Luff her, George! Luff quick--quick, for your life!" he cried, and,springing for the tiller, threw his weight against it ere the startledhelmsman could find strength to act.
The yacht, with sails slatting, came into the wind amid a cloud of spray.The boom, striking a wave, had nearly snapped in two. But it was not aninstant too soon.
A black object that looked enormous rose suddenly out of the sea in frontof the _Spray_. The next wave lifted it high in the air, and hurled itdown upon them. It was a ship's yawl-boat, of immense size, fully aslarge as the yacht itself. Down the watery declivity it shot, swift andstraight, like some sea-monster in pursuit of its quarry.
But the little yacht had answered her helm well. There was a crash and asplintering of wood, and the yawl drifted rapidly past and was lost inthe darkness. The yacht _Spray_, her bowsprit and fore-rigging torn away,once more fell off the wind and was driven on by the storm. It was anescape so narrow that a moment more and they had been dashed to pieces.
Henry Burns was the first to regain his courage.
"It's better the bowsprit than the rudder," he said, coolly. And hiscourage gave them strength. A few minutes later they had passed the headof the island and gained the lee of the land, and in fifteen minutes morethey had cast anchor in Bryant's Cove.
"I am willing to do whatever you boys think is best," said George Warren,as they lowered and furled the sail and made the yacht snug for thenight. "But I think it's of no
use for us to make any search for the boysalong this shore. If they capsized in the bay to-night, neither they northeir canoe would come ashore here. The canoe would be blown across thebay; and they-- Well, we're bound to believe that they didn't start, or,if they did, that they put back."
"I don't see but what we have done all we can to-night," responded hisbrother; "and, as we have got five miles of muddy road to travel, thesooner we start the better. We could stay in the boat to-night, but wemust get back on mother's account. Depend upon it, she has worried everysingle minute we have been gone, and I don't blame her, either. Now it'sall over, I don't mind saying I think we were fools to come out. But wemeant well, so perhaps the less said the better. We'll have to leave the_Spray_ to herself till the storm goes down. Nobody will harm her."
"I don't mind staying here to-night and looking after her," said HenryBurns. "To be sure, old Witham doesn't know I have left the hotel, but Itumbled my bed up before I came away, and he will only think I got upearly in the morning, if he wonders where I am."
"No, no, old fellow. We won't let you stay. We won't hear of it," saidboth brothers. "The sooner we all get home and get dry clothes on, thebetter. There's no need of any of us staying. The _Spray_ won't sail outof the cove of herself, and every one on the island knows her."
So, as they had left the tender behind, they removed their clothing, tiedit into bundles, slung them around their necks, and, slipping overboard,swam to shore.
"If I ever was more glad to get on land alive than I am at present," saidHenry Burns, his teeth chattering with the cold, as he hastily scrambledinto his clothes, "I don't happen to remember it just at this instant. Iwonder if my aunt would send me down here again for my health if shecould see me now."
There was something so ludicrous in the idea that the boys could not helpbursting into roars of laughter,--though they felt little enough likemerriment.
"The more I think of it," said Henry Burns, "the more I believe the boysare snug ashore at Millville, and that they haven't been within ten milesof Grand Island to-night."
"I think you are right, Henry," responded Arthur.
"It must be so," said George.
And yet not one of them dared to believe absolutely that what he said wastrue.
They started off across lots now, walking as rapidly as their wet andheavy clothing would allow, to strike the road which led to the harbour.Coming at length into this road, they had walked but a short distance,and were at the top of a hill at a turn of the road where it left theshore, when Henry Burns, pointing down along the shore, said:
"We ought to remember that part of the bay as long as we live, for weshall never be much nearer to death than we were right there."
"Sure enough," responded Arthur, "it was just about off there that thebig yawl smashed our bowsprit off."
"The yawl must have been driven ashore by this time," said George. "Waita minute and I will take a look." And he disappeared over the bank andwas lost in the bushes. The two boys seated themselves by the side of theroad to await his return, but started up with a horror in their hearts asa shrill cry came up to them from the shore. There was that in the crythat told them that George Warren had found other than the ship'slong-boat. They scarcely dared to think what. Then they, too, dashed downthe slope to the shore.
When they reached his side, George Warren could scarcely speak fromemotion.
"Look! Look!" he cried, in a trembling, choking voice, and pointed outupon the beach where the tide had gone down.
There were two strange objects there that the sea had buffeted in itswild play that night, and then, as though grown tired of them, had castupon the shore, among the rocks and seaweed.
One was the long-boat, no longer an object of danger, for the sea hadhurled it against a rock and stove its side in. The other was a canoe.The sea had overturned it and tossed it upon the shore. Two of itsthwarts were smashed where it had been dropped down and pinioned upon arock--and the rock held it fast.