Jack Harvey's Adventures; or, The Rival Campers Among the Oyster Pirates

by Gabrielle E. Jackson

  CHAPTER X FLIGHT AND DISASTER

  When Jack Harvey awoke, the next morning, it was in a confused state ofmind that he turned out of his bunk. The reason for this was at onceapparent. A heavy south-easter was on, and a rough sea was tumbling inbetween the two projections of land that marked the entrance to the riverfrom the bay--Drum Point and Hog Point. Lines of white breakers werefoaming and crashing about the light-house.

  The bug-eye, Brandt, lying well out in the river, and exposed to the sea,had been tossing about violently, although Haley had given theanchor-rode good scope, in order to ease the strain. The unconscioussleepers in the forecastle had been thrown about against the hard woodensides of the bunks in which they lay; and Harvey found himself bruisedand lame. He put his head out of the companion-way just as a sea sprayedover the vessel, wetting him. He rubbed the salt water from his eyes andhair, and looked out into the bay beyond.

  It was certainly rough, outside. As far as he could see, the broadexpanse of water was rioting in high frolic. Seas leaped and tumbled inwild confusion. The sharp flaws of the south-easter whipped the whitecaps from the curling breakers and sent the scud and spindrift flying.

  Far out, a few stray vessels, close reefed and rolling heavily as theyran, were making for the harbour; the ends of their lean booms, withsails tied in, looked like bare poles. Jack Harvey noted one thing, withespecial satisfaction. Not a single craft in all the harbour fleet wasgoing out, or making any preparation therefor. Harvey gave a sigh ofrelief, as he went below again.

  "Tom," he said, as he stepped to his comrade's bunk and roused him, "Tom,we're in luck. It's blowing a gale outside. No dredging to-day. Hooray!"

  Tom Edwards sat up, and groaned.

  "Oh, but I'm lame," he said. "What with that tough day's work, yesterday,and this confounded slatting about, I'm just about done for. Haley'llkill us yet, if we don't get away."

  Tom Edwards, erstwhile travelling man and frequenter of good hotels,stepped stiffly out on to the floor and proceeded to rub his arms andjoints, to limber them up.

  "Jack," he said, "I'm sorry now that you didn't take the chance up theriver, that night, and swim for it. You'd have got away, and they'd beafter us all by this time. Jack, I tell you, we've got to get out of herepretty soon, or there'll be no Tom Edwards left to go anywhere. I can'tstand this much longer."

  Harvey stepped to the side of his friend, and whispered softly.

  "Neither can I, Tom," he answered, "and what's more, I don't intend to.We'll get away. We'll escape."

  To their surprise, the conversation was interrupted by the sharp call ofthe mate for them to hustle out and help get the bug-eye under weigh.They looked at each other in astonishment, for one moment. Then Harveyreassured his friend.

  "It's all right," he said. "We can't be going out. Haley wants a snuggerberth. We're getting too much of the sweep here."

  Harvey's conjecture proved correct. They were lying at a bad anchoragefor a south-easter, and Haley, to his chagrin, had observed the signs ofwind and sky and knew the weather was growing heavier instead ofclearing.

  The anchor was hove short and brought up to the bow, while a jib and themain-sail, both reefed, were set. The Brandt, with Haley at the wheel,stood in nearer to the southern shore of the river, within a quarter of amile of the bank. The anchor went down again, and sails were once moremade snug.

  They lay more comfortably here, in the bight of the southern river bank.But it was a tantalizing sight to the prisoners on the Brandt--the nearand friendly looking shore, with an occasional house in the distance, thesmoke of hearths blown from the chimney tops, and now and then atraveller going on up a country road.

  And to what mad act Jack Harvey might have been wrought, could he haveseen, in his mind's eye, the interior of one of these same houses, and acertain one of these hearths, encircled by a certain group of boys, isbeyond all conjecture. But he only gazed longingly in ashore, and wishedhe were there.

  There was more definiteness to his thoughts when, an hour or two later,following the wretched breakfast served--all the meaner and more wretchedbecause there was no work to be gotten out of the crew for the day--hesaw Haley and the mate launch the small skiff, bring it alongside and getin and row away.

  Not that there was any immediate purpose of escape in his mind. For, justbefore his departure, Haley had designated where he was going--a smallshed just back from shore was his object, where a man kept some triflingsupplies that he wanted.

  "And I'll be in sight of this vessel from start to finish," Haley hadadded, and winked significantly at Jim Adams.

  But the small boat and its possibilities was imprinted on Harvey's brainas he watched it toss flimsily about, while the captain and mate sculledashore. He had thought of it before, but no good opportunity had offered.

  There had been chances, to be sure, down along the marshy intricacies ofthe eastern shore. Once, when they had lain in Honga river over night,inside Middle Hooper island, he had thought strongly of rousing TomEdwards and attempting flight to shore. But the country around had beentoo forbidding. Wild salt marshes bordered the eastern coast of Hooper's,and across on the land to the east it was so shelterless, with saltmarshes on shore and a great fresh water marsh inland, that he had givenover the project for the time.

  Occasionally, on a Saturday night, when the bug-eye lay in the Patuxent,it was the habit of Haley and Jim Adams to take the skiff and go ashore.Sometimes they spent the night, and were back again Sunday morning.Sometimes they passed the greater part of Sunday back inland. There layHarvey's hope. Yet he hardly knew how to work out a plan of escape. Toattempt to make sail on the bug-eye and run her either to shore or up thebay, would, he discovered, be useless. It would involve making a prisonerof the cook and the man, Jeff, and, possibly, Sam Black, also; thoughHarvey looked for no great interference from him.

  The cook and the sailor, Jeff, he found, had a certain dogged loyalty toHaley. The former surely would stand by the vessel under allcircumstances; the latter, it was certain, would not compromise himselfwith the authorities of the state by any attempt to take possession ofthe craft in Haley's absence.

  But, with the mate and Haley away, there must be some means, surely, ofgaining one of the shores of the river. In milder weather, Harvey wouldhave thought nothing of swimming the distance, even of a mile, from themiddle of the wide part of the river; but the weather and the icy coldwater precluded that way of flight now. At least, Harvey did not care toventure it, especially as, once on land, he would know not where to seekshelter; for he knew that, bound by many mutual ties of interest, thedredgers and the settlers along shore--unless the latter had oyster bedsto be robbed--worked for each other's interests.

  "Tom," said Harvey, quietly, indicating the skiff with a glance, "that'sthe way you and I are going ashore one of these nights, and take ourchances when we get there. And," he added, eagerly, "isn't it lucky youwarned me to hide that money? That will help us out, when we do escape."

  Tom Edwards glanced at the bobbing skiff, that looked to his eyes aboutas substantial as a child's toy boat, and shrugged his shoulders.

  "I'll try it, if we get the chance," he said, somewhat dubiously; "but Idon't like the looks of it."

  Harvey laughed. "You're a landsmen, sure enough," he said. "Why, that'san able little boat as a man might want, in a river like this. Look hownicely it rides the waves."

  "Oh, I'd go on a bunch of shingles, if it would only take me out ofthis," exclaimed Tom Edwards--"that is, I think I would now. But you'llhave to run the thing. I'll confess, I don't know one end of a boat fromanother, except what that brute, Jim Adams, has ground into me."

  Harvey's hopes, which had been raised by the shifting of the anchorage ofthe vessel nearer land, were dashed late that afternoon, with the returnof Haley and the mate. Rain mixed with sleet poured down in torrents, anddrove laterally across the vessel. It was as much as one could do to keephis footing on the slippery deck, even with one
hand clutching a rope.The sleet stung as it struck Harvey's face, and made it smart as thoughfrom a volley of small pebbles. He was only glad to seek shelter below,even in the dreary forecastle. He learned, that night, how allcircumstances are relatively good or harsh. From the boisterous nightoutside, the forecastle of the Brandt was a refuge that seemed almostcheery.

  The next morning, it was apparent that the strength of the storm waswearing away. Moreover, there was a sudden peculiar change in theweather. The wind had swung around more to the southward; and, with that,there had come a decided moderation of the temperature. But the changewas of no immediate advantage to Haley, for there rolled in a heavy fog,and a dense mist also rose up from the surface of the river.

  Again Haley gave the order to make sail and raise the anchor. Once morethe bug-eye got under weigh, stood out toward the middle of the river andcast anchor again, just beyond the path of any passing steamer. CaptainHaley, ever watchful, ever suspicious, was taking no chances. His rulewas invariable, in any kind of smooth water--to lie for the night beyondswimming distance from shore. At least, to offer little chance for that.He had known desperate, venturesome men to attempt it, even then.

  He was in a bad humour, was Haley, that day. There was nothing to eat,for the crew, but the bread, or dough, fried, and a few scraps of porkmixed with it. It was Saturday, and, about the middle of the afternoon,he and Jim Adams took the skiff again and went ashore. They were out ofsight in the fog before they had gone two rods, but the wind sufficed togive them their direction for the distance they had to go.

  "Tom," said Jack Harvey that night, as they turned in, "keep your shoeson, and don't go to sleep."

  Tom Edwards looked at his young companion, in surprise.

  "We've got a chance," explained Harvey, "as good as we'll ever get,perhaps. We've got to break away from here some time. The sooner thebetter."

  "In this beastly fog?" interrupted Tom Edwards.

  "Of course," replied Harvey. "It's just what we want. The wind'ssoutherly and will take us across to the Drum Point shore. We can't helphitting that, or Solomon's Island. We'll have the chance, too. I heardJim Adams say we'd put out of here early to-morrow morning, if the foglifts. Haley's lost so much time, he won't stay ashore Sunday. They'll beback with the skiff late to-night, or toward morning. We'll give themjust time to go off to sleep and then make a try for it."

  The crisis thus suddenly facing Tom Edwards, he pulled himself together.

  "Good for you!" he said. "I'll go, if we have to row across theChesapeake. Anybody with us?"

  "Not a soul," said Harvey. "The skiff will hold only us two. And wecan do it better alone. Now you sit up first, will you, and let meget two hours sleep, and then you wake me and I'll keep watch,because--because--"

  Tom Edwards laughed good-naturedly.

  "I know," he said. "You're afraid that I'd fall asleep later on, and we'dmiss the chance."

  "Well,--well," stammered Harvey, "you are an awful sound sleeper when youget a-going, you know. I didn't mean anything--"

  "You're all right," exclaimed Tom Edwards, softly, but with heartiness."You turn in. Let me have your watch. I'll wake you, say, at eleven."

  Jack Harvey's nerves were good, and he was not one to worry over comingevents. He turned in, and, in ten minutes, was sound asleep. Tom Edwards,sitting uncomfortably in his bunk, counted the minutes as they draggedaway, drearily. It was a lonesome vigil, with only the sleeping crew forcompany. He started up now and again, as some sound in the night outsideseemed to his active fancy a warning of the returning skiff.

  Ten o'clock came, and then eleven; he arose and awakened Harvey.

  "Too bad, old chap," he said, "but it's your turn."

  Harvey roused and turned out, sleepily.

  "Tom," he said, "I had the queerest dream. I dreamed we were chasing thatfellow, Jenkins, through miles of swamps, and every time we'd get nearhim, he'd turn into Henry Burns and laugh at us. Then we'd see him againa little way ahead."

  "You're thinking of that chap you thought you saw through the telescope,eh," suggested Tom Edwards.

  "He's on my mind sure enough," replied Harvey. "I can't quite make itout, though, whether I saw him or not."

  Tom Edwards rolled into his bunk, and Harvey, stretching and yawning,began his watch. He didn't dare tell Tom Edwards till long afterward; buthe went off soundly to sleep once, some time later, and woke with afearful start. What if he had been the one, after all, to upset theirplans by his carelessness!

  He stole cautiously out on deck, and tip-toed aft. He breathed a sigh ofrelief when there was no sign of the skiff. He hurried back to theforecastle and struck a match, to read the face of his watch. It washalf-past twelve o'clock. He dared not trust himself, then, to return tohis bunk, but crouched down at the foot of the companion ladder, with thesting of the night air in his face.

  Suddenly a steady, creaking sound came to his ears. He started up andcrawled to the top of the ladder. It was the sound of an oar. Then hisheart gave a bound, as he heard voices through the fog.

  "There she lies," came the words in the voice of the mate. "I tells you,Mister Haley, I's pretty extra good on findin' my way 'bout this river.We're goin' to get a good day, all right, too. This wind be shiftin'right; swingin' round with the sun to the west by mornin', sure's youborn."

  They came indistinctly into view of the boy, as he crouched in thecompanion-way, just peering over so he could see across the deck. Theskiff scraped alongside. The two men sprang out, shaking the fog and wetfrom their coats. Harvey, still as though frozen to the spot, noted withjoy that they did not fetch the skiff aboard, but made the painter fastnear the stern. They hurried below, and a light gleamed in the cabin. Itburned a few minutes, only. Then the vessel was in darkness again, savefor the lantern in the foremast shroud, to warn any chance craft wherethey lay.

  Harvey waited. The minutes seemed like hours. Fifteen minutes were tickedoff by his silver time-piece; then fifteen more. It was a quarter pastone o'clock when he stole back, shivering, and awoke Tom Edwards.

  "Sh-h-h!" he warned. "Don't speak. They're here; turned in half an hourago. Come on."

  They had no belongings to gather up; only their coats to button aboutthem. They crept out on deck and stood for a moment, waiting andlistening. There was no sound aboard the bug-eye. They darted quicklyaft. Tom Edwards stepped nervously into the little skiff, Harveyfollowing. Harvey cast off, took his seat astern, pushed away and begansculling.

  Two rods off from the bug-eye, they could discern the thin lines of itsmasts and a dull blur that was its hull. Harvey gave a little murmur ofexultation, and paused in his sculling. But the next moment he uttered acry of surprise and alarm. He rose from his seat, and peered anxiouslythrough the fog.

  "What's the matter? What is it, Jack?" asked Tom Edwards, almostbreathless.

  "Something's coming!" exclaimed Harvey. "Don't you hear that rushingsound? Oh, hang this fog! If it would only lift a little."

  Suddenly Harvey dropped to his seat and began plying the single oar inthe scull-hole, with desperation. Then he sprang up again and gave awarning call as loud as he dared.

  It was too late. Out of the fog and mist there rushed a craft--so swiftlythat it was upon them before they had half seen it. It was a long, narrowcanoe, with full sail set, the wind on its quarter, flying for the mouthof the river. Harvey had one fleeting glimpse of a man in the stern ofthe craft, springing up and uttering an exclamation of rage and fright.Then Harvey jumped from his own seat, literally tumbling over TomEdwards.

  The man at the stern of the fleeing canoe had jammed the helm hard down,at his first sight of the little skiff. But he could not clear it wholly.There was a crash and a splintering of wood; the skiff half upset, andtook in nearly half a barrel of water. The main boom of the canoe sweptacross the skiff, knocking both its occupants into a heap.

  The next thing they knew, the man at the stern of the canoe and anotherby the foremast were standing up, uttering maledictions upon theunfortunate vic
tims of the collision.

  "Help us! Don't leave us! We're sinking!" called Harvey, in desperation,as the canoe kept on its course. The only answer was a wrathful shake ofhis fist from the skipper of the canoe. Another moment, and it was gone.

  Harvey and his companion, ankle-deep in water, scrambled up, and Harveyturned anxiously to the stern of the skiff. There was a hole there, andthe boat seemed to be sinking under them. They stripped off their outerjackets, prepared to swim for their lives. But Harvey quickly reassuredhis comrade.

  "It isn't coming in very fast," he said. "We can get back to the bug-eye,if we work lively. You take your hat and bail. I'll jump her all I can."

  He gave a cry of dismay as he seized the oar, which was floating in thebottom of the skiff. The blow from the canoe had broken half the bladeaway. It was still of some use, but he could not make fast time with it.

  Heartbroken and fearful of what awaited them, they turned the skiff inthe direction whence the wind was blowing, and toiled with desperateenergy. The water leaked steadily into the little craft, but Tom Edwardsdashed it out by hat-fulls, as he had never worked in all his life--noteven at the dredges under the eye of Jim Adams.

  The bug-eye came more plainly into view. They neared it with quakinghearts. Already they could seem to hear the torrent of imprecation thatawaited them from Haley and the mate, and could feel the hurt and pain of"dredging fleet law."

  To their amazement, silence reigned aboard the vessel. That silence wasunbroken as they struggled up alongside. With not a sound aboard, theygrasped the foot of a shroud and Harvey sprang noiselessly to the deck.Tom Edwards followed. Harvey took a quick turn with the painter. The halfsubmerged skiff was made fast, where it had been before.

  They fled along the deck, and down into the forecastle, on the wings offear. Wet and exhausted, they tumbled into their bunks. It was somemoments before either of them could find breath to speak.

  "Oh, the brutes!" murmured Tom Edwards, after a time. "How could anyhuman being do a thing like that? They left us to drown, Jack, and didn'tcare."

  "Of course they did," answered Harvey, "and good reason. I know why.Don't you? Did you see the load they had aboard? They'd been lifting anoyster dump. Some fellow'll find his week's tonging of oysters gone, whenhe looks for them. They were poachers. They'd have killed us in a minuteif we'd stood between them and getting away. Cheer up, old Tom. We're inthe greatest luck we've ever been in all our lives. Is your back cold?Well, how would it feel, think, if Haley had caught us? Did you ever hearSam Black tell how he's seen men rope's-ended for trying to run away?Wait till Haley sees that skiff in the morning. You'll be glad you'realive. Never mind. We'll escape yet. I'm going to sleep when I get theseboots off."

  Captain Hamilton Haley, standing by the wheel, some hours later, when thesun had risen and the fog was lifting over the river, was not a pleasingobject to behold. What he had to say about poachers and their ways andhabits and carelessness would have warmed the water under the bug-eye, ifit hadn't been in the dead of winter. To have heard his outburst ofindignation, over the evils of poaching and night sailing, would almosthave convinced a listener that he was the most averse to that habit ofany man in Chesapeake Bay. Also he berated Jim Adams, as much as hethought that gentleman would stand, for not bringing the skiff aboard.

  Haley bargained for a new skiff that day, and gave Jim Adams anotherdressing down,--and Jim Adams took it out of the crew, for which Harveyand Tom Edwards were sorry--although they got their share. And so theirnight adventure passed into the history of the cruise; and there evencame a time, long afterward, when the two laughed at it--that is, whenthey thought of Haley. The remembrance of their own fright remained, todream of, for many a night.

  Two days afterward, there happened one of those sudden, mysteriouschanges that told of the comradeship of a certain clique of the dredgingcaptains, and of their facility for dodging trouble.

  Down along the western shore a strange craft sailed up, and Haley took aman aboard from it; though not without some warm words with the strangecaptain. He seemed not to welcome the recruit. But he took him, andexchanged one of his own crew, the sailor, Sam Black, for the man. Thislatter recruit was a swarthy man, tall and muscular. His face wasdiscoloured, as though by blows; and a long scar, freshly made, showed onthe back of one hand and wrist. He obeyed Haley's and the mate's orderssullenly. Why he was aboard, none knew except the mate and captain. Butit was plain enough, the captain of the other craft had wanted him out ofthe way.