Raftmates: A Story of the Great River

by Kirk Munroe

  CHAPTER VI.

  MR. GILDER AND HIS RUDE RECEPTION.

  After emerging from the "shanty," it did not take the solitary occupantof the raft long to discover the nature of his new predicament. Thewater was sufficiently clear for him to make out an indistinct outlineof the rock on which the raft was hung, and as the rain was stillfalling, he quickly regained the shelter of the "shanty," there toconsider the situation. It did not take him long to make up his mindthat this was a case in which assistance was absolutely necessary, andthat he must either wait for it to come to him or go in search of it.First of all, though, he must have something to eat. He had no need tolook at his watch to discover that it was breakfast-time. Thecondition of his appetite told him that.

  Now Winn had never learned to cook. He had regarded that as anaccomplishment that was well enough for girls to acquire, but one quitebeneath the notice of a man. Besides, cooking was easy enough, and anyone could do it who had to. It was only necessary to put things into apot and let them boil, or into an oven to bake. Of course they must bewatched and taken from the stove when done, but that was about allthere was to cooking. There was a sack of corn-meal in the "shanty,"and a jug of maple syrup. A dish of hot mush would be the very thing.Then there was coffee already ground; of course he would have a cup ofcoffee. So the boy made a roaring fire, found the coffee-pot, set iton the stove, and filled a large saucepan with corn-meal.

  "There may be a little too much in there," he thought; "but I can savewhat I can't eat now for lunch, and then fry it, as mother does."

  Having got thus far in his preparations, he took a bucket and wentoutside for some water from the river. Here he remained for a fewminutes to gaze at a distant up-bound steamboat, and wondered why hehad not noticed her when she passed the raft. Although the riverseemed somewhat narrower than he thought it should be, he had no ideabut that he was still in its main channel, and that the land on hisleft was the Wisconsin shore.

  Still wondering how he could have missed seeing, or at least hearing,the steamboat, the boy reentered the "shanty." Thinking of steamboatsrather than of cooking, he began to pour water into the saucepan ofmeal, which at once began to run over. Thus recalled to his duties, heremoved half of the wet meal to another pan, filled it with water, andset both pans on the stove. Then he poured a stream of cold water intothe coffee-pot, which by this time was almost red-hot. The effect wasas distressing as it was unexpected. A cloud of scalding steam rushedup into his face and filled the room, the coffee-pot rolled to thefloor with a clatter, and there was such a furious hissing andsputtering that poor Winn dropped his bucket of water and staggeredtowards the door, fully convinced that he was the victim of a boilerexplosion.

  When the cloud of steam cleared away, the boy ruefully surveyed thescene of disaster, and wondered what had gone wrong. "I'm sure nothingof the kind ever happened in mother's kitchen," he said to himself. Inspite of his smarting face, he determined not to be daunted by thisfirst mishap, but to try again. So he wiped the floor with atable-cloth, drew another bucket of water from the river, and resolvedto proceed with the utmost care this time. To his dismay, as hestooped to pick up the coffee-pot, he found that it had neither bottomnor spout, but was a total and useless wreck. "What a leaky old thingit must have been," soliloquized the boy.

  Just then his attention was attracted by another hissing sound from thestove and a smell of burning. Two yellow streams were pouring over thesides of the saucepans.

  "Hello!" cried Winn, as he seized a spoon and began ladling a portionof the contents from each into a third pan. "How ever did these thingsget full again? I'm sure I left lots of room in them."

  At that moment the contents of all three pans began to burn, and hefilled them with water. A few minutes later all three began to bubbleover, and he got more pans. Before he was through with that mush,every available inch of space on the stove was covered with pans of it,the disgusted cook was liberally bedaubed with it, and so was thefloor. The contents of some of the pans were burned black; others wereas weak as gruel; all were lumpy, and all were insipid for want of salt.

  For a moment Winn, hot, cross, and smarting from many scalds and burns,reviewed the results of his first attempt at preparing a meal with acomical expression, in which wrath and disgust were equally blended.Then, yielding to an impulse of anger, he picked up one of the messesand flung it, pan and all, out through the open door. He was stoopingto seize the next, which he proposed to treat in a similar manner, whena hand was laid on his shoulder, and he was almost petrified withamazement by hearing a voice exclaim:

  "Hold on, young man! One at a time is enough. It's very pleasant tobe greeted warmly, but there is such a thing as too warm a reception.I'll allow you didn't see me coming, though if I thought you did, I'dchuck you overboard for that caper."

  "'Hold on, young man! One at a time is enough.'"]

  The speaker, who stood in the doorway striving to remove the mess ofsticky mush that had struck him full in the breast and now covered alarge portion of his body, including his face, was a man of middle ageand respectable appearance, clad in a rubber suit and a slouched hat.

  Filled with shame and contrition at this unexpected result of hisfoolish action, Winn was profuse in his apologies, and picking up theuseful table-cloth that had already served him in one emergency,stepped forward with an offer of assistance. The stranger waved himback, and removed the greater part of the mess by taking off his rubbercoat. At the same time he said:

  "There's no harm done, and worse might have happened. You might havebeen pitching stove lids, or hot soup, or knives and forks, you know.So, you see, I'm to be congratulated on getting off as well as I have.But where is the boss of this raft, and the crew? How did you happento run in here out of the channel? You are not alone, are you?"

  "Yes, sir," replied Winn. "I'm captain and crew and everything elsejust at present--excepting cook," he added, hastily, as he noted thestranger's amused glance at the stove and its surroundings.

  "Who is cook, then?"

  "There isn't any," answered Winn; "and for that reason there isn't anybreakfast, nor likely to be any, for I'll starve before I try my handat it again."

  "There seems to be plenty of breakfast, such as it is," said thestranger, gravely, indicating by a glance the many pans of spoiledmush. Then seeing that the boy was really in distress, and not in ajoking humor, he added, "But let me help you set things to rights, andthen I'll see if I can't show you how to get up some sort of abreakfast. I'm not a regular cook, as perhaps you may guess; but then,again, I am one, in a way, as all we river-traders have to be."

  "Are you a river-trader?" asked Winn.

  "Yes; and there are three of us. But I'll tell you all about it, andyou shall tell me your story after we've had breakfast."

  To Winn, the expeditious manner in which his recent culinary disasterswere repaired and a simple but well-cooked breakfast was made ready bythis stranger was a source of undisguised admiration. Even coffee,clear and strong, was made in a tin can. One edge of the can was bentinto the form of a rude spout; then it was filled two-thirds withwater, and set on the stove. When the water came to a boil, half acupful of ground coffee, tied loosely in a bit of clean muslin, wasdropped into it, and allowed to boil for three minutes. A kind ofbiscuit made of flour, water, shortening, baking-powder, and salt, wellmixed, and rolled thin, was quickly baked, first on one side and thenon the other, in an iron skillet on top of the stove. At the same timea single cupful of corn-meal, well salted, and boiled for half an hour,furnished a large dish of smoking mush. Half a dozen thin slices ofbacon broiled on a toaster completed what Winn enthusiasticallydeclared was the very best breakfast he had ever eaten. Still, the boywas so ravenously hungry that it is probable even his own burned andlumpy mixture of corn-meal would not have tasted so bad as it looked.

  While he was busy with the breakfast, the stranger, who said his namewas Gilder, talked pleasantly on many subjects. At the same time hemanag
ed somehow to learn all about Winn and his family, the raft andhow it happened to be where it was, without giving a single item ofinformation concerning himself in return.

  When Winn finally declared that he could eat no more, Mr. Gilder alsopushed back his chair, and said:

  "Now, then, for business. First, I must tell you that you are in avery serious predicament. I examined the position of this raft beforecoming aboard, and arrived at the conclusion that both it and its cargoare in a fair way of becoming a total loss. As soon as the river fallsagain, which it is likely to do at any time, the raft will probablybreak in pieces of its own weight. In that case you would lose both itand your wheat. The only plan I can suggest for saving the raft is tolighten it until it floats clear of the rock on which it is hung, bythrowing the wheat overboard; or, if you can manage it, land your wheaton the island, where it can remain until you can take it away. Ofcourse the decision as to which of these things you will do restsentirely with yourself; but you must make up your mind quickly, forwith this uncertain state of water there isn't an hour to lose."