by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER VIII.
THE RACE.
The day appointed for the race between the Zephyr and the Butterfly hadarrived, and the large number of people congregated on the shores ofWood Lake testified to the interest which was felt in the event.Probably the exciting incident at the bridge, which had been publishedin the newspaper, imparted a greater degree of interest to the race thanit would otherwise have possessed. It was a beautiful afternoon, mildand pleasant for the season, which favored the attendance of the ladies,and the lake was lined with a row of cheerful faces.
"All aboard!" said Frank, as he dissolved a meeting of the Zephyrs,which he had called in order to impart whatever hints he had been ableto obtain from his father and others in regard to their conduct.
Above all, he had counseled them, in case they were beaten, to cherishno hard feelings towards their rivals. Not a shadow of envy or ill-willwas to obscure the harmony of the occasion. And if they were sofortunate as to win the race they were to wear their honors withhumility; and most especially, they were not to utter a word which couldcreate a hard feeling in the minds of their competitors. Whatever theresult, there was to be the same kindness in the heart, and the samegentlemanly deportment in the manners, which had thus far characterizedthe intercourse of the two clubs.
"All aboard!"
The Zephyrs were more quiet and dignified in their deportment thanusual. There was no loud talk, no jesting; even Fred Harper lookedthoughtful and serious. Each member seemed to feel the responsibility ofwinning the race resting like a heavy burden upon his shoulders.
The boat was hauled out into the lake, and once more Frank cautionedthem to keep cool and obey orders.
"Don't look at the Butterfly after we get started," said he. "You mustpermit me to keep watch of her. Keep both eyes on me, and think only ofhaving your stroke perfectly accurate, perfectly in time with theothers. Now, remember, don't look at the Butterfly; if you do, we shalllose the race. It would distract your attention and add to yourexcitement. If she gets two or three lengths ahead of us, as I think shewill on the first mile, don't mind it. Pull your best, and leave therest with me."
"Ay, ay!" replied several, quietly.
"Do you think we shall win, Frank?" asked Charles, who had put the samequestion a dozen times before.
"We must _think_ that we shall," replied Frank, with a smile. "Herecomes the Butterfly. Now, give her three cheers. One!"
"Hurrah!"
"Two!"
"Hurrah!"
"Three!"
"Hurrah!"
This compliment was promptly returned by the Butterfly, as she camealongside the Zephyr.
"Quarter of three, Frank," said Tony.
"Time we were moving then," replied Frank, as he ordered the oars out,and the boats started for the spot where the Sylph, the judges' boat,had taken position.
They pulled with a very slow stroke, and not only did the respectivecrews keep the most exact time, but each timed its stroke with theother. It was exhibition day with them, and they were not only to runthe race, but to show off their skill to the best advantage. Hundreds ofpeople, their fathers and their mothers, their sisters and theirbrothers, were observing them from the shore, and this fact inspiredthem to work with unusual care.
It was a very beautiful sight, those richly ornamented boats, their gaycolors flashing in the bright sunshine, with their neatly uniformedcrews, their silken flags floating to the breeze, and their light,graceful oars dipping with mechanical precision in the limpid waters. Asthey glided gently over the rippling waves, like phantoms, to the middleof the lake, a long and deafening shout from the shore saluted theirears. The white handkerchiefs of the ladies waved them a cheerfulgreeting, and the Rippleton Brass Band, which had volunteered for theoccasion, struck up Hail Columbia.
"Cease--rowing!" said Frank, as he rose in his seat.
Tony followed his example, though this movement had not been laid downin the program.
Frank then took the American flag which floated at the stern, and Tonydid the same.
"All up!" said he. "Let us give them three cheers."
"Mind the coxswain of the Zephyr," added Tony, "and let them be alltogether and with a will."
"Hats off, and swing them as you cheer."
The cheers were given with all the vigor which stout lungs could impart,and the flags waved and the hats swung.
The salute was reiterated from the shore, and above the martial strainsof the band rose the deafening hurrahs.
"Ready--pull!" and the boats resumed their slow and measured stroke, andthe band changed the tune to the Canadian Boat Song.
When they reached the judges' boat, the two coxswains drew lots for thechoice of "position," and the Butterfly obtained this advantage. The twoboats then took their places, side by side, about two rods apart, readyto commence the race.
"Tony," said Frank, rising, "before we start I have a word to say.Whatever may be the result of the race, for myself and my crew, I pledgeyou there shall be no hard feeling among the Zephyrs."
"No, no, no!" added the club, earnestly.
"If you beat, it shall not impair our friendship; there shall be noenvy, no ill-will. Do you all say so, Zephyrs?"
"Ay, ay!"
The Butterflies clapped their hands vigorously, in token of theirapprobation of the pledge, and Tony promised the same thing for hisclub.
"Now we are ready," added Frank. "Keep perfectly cool, and mind all Ihave said. Ready!"
Uncle Ben stood in the bow of the Sylph, with a burning slow match inhis hand, ready to discharge the cannon which was to be the signal forstarting. It was a moment of intense excitement, not only to the crewsof the boats, but to hundreds of spectators on the shore.
It was undeniably true that the Zephyrs, in spite of the warnings whichFrank had given them, were very much excited, and various were theexpedients which the boys used to calm their agitation, or at least toconceal it. But it was also true that the Butterflies were much moreexcited. Discipline and experience had not schooled them in the art of"being mere machines," and they found it much more difficult than theZephyrs to subdue their troublesome emotions.
The eventful moment had come. The oarsmen were bent forward ready tostrike the first stroke, and the coxswains were leaning back ready totime the movement. Captain Sedley was gazing intently at the dial of his"second indicator," prepared to give Uncle Ben the word to fire.
"Ready, Ben--fire!"
Bang! went the cannon.
"Pull!" shouted Frank and Tony in the same breath.
Fortunately every oarsman in both boats hit the stroke exactly, and awayleaped the gallant barks.
As Frank had deemed it probable, the Butterfly shot a length ahead ofher rival after pulling a few strokes; but though the noise of the oarsinformed his crew of their relative positions, not an eye was turnedfrom him, not a muscle yielded in the face of the dispiriting fact, andnot a member quickened his stroke in order to retrieve the lost ground.Even Tim Bunker, who was supposed to have more feeling in regard to therace than the others, maintained an admirable self-possession. Howevermuch the hearts of the crew beat with agitation, they were outwardly ascool as though the Butterfly had been a mile behind them.
It is true, some of the Zephyrs, as they continued to gaze at Frank'scalm and immovable features, wondered that he did not quicken thestroke; but no one for an instant lost confidence in him. "Frank knewwhat he was about." This was the sentiment that prevailed, and eachmember looked out for himself, leaving all the rest to him.
The Butterflies were quickening their stroke every moment, andconsequently were continuing to increase the distance between the twoboats. Every muscle was strained to its utmost tension. Every particleof strength was laid out, until Tony, fearful that some of the weakerones might "make a slip," dared require no more of them. But they werealready more than two boats' lengths ahead of their rival, and he hadeverything to hope.
Still the Zephyr pulled that same steady stroke. As yet she had made noex
traordinary exertion. Her crew were still fresh and vigorous, whilethose of her rival, though she was every moment gaining upon her, weretaxing their strength to the utmost.
They rounded the stake boat, which had been placed nearly opposite themouth of the Rippleton River, and the Butterfly was still three lengthsahead. They had begun upon the last two miles of the race. Though theZephyr still pursued her former tactics, her rival was no longer able togain upon her. The latter had thus far done her best, and for the nexthalf mile the boats maintained the same relative positions.
Frank was still unmoved, and there was some inward grumbling among hiscrew. An expression of deep anxiety had begun to supplant the look ofhope and confidence they had worn, and some of them were provoked to adoubt whether Frank, in the generosity of his nature, was not intendingto let Tony bear off the honors.
"Come, Frank, let her have, now!" said Tim, who could no longer restrainhis impatience.
"Silence! Not a word!" said the self-possessed coxswain.
It was in the "order of the day" that no member should speak during therace; and none did, except Tim, and he could easily have been pardonedunder the circumstances.
Not yet did Frank quicken the stroke of the Zephyr, though at the end ofthe next half mile she was only two boats' lengths astern of hercompetitor, which had lost this distance by the exhaustion of her crew.They had pulled three miles with the expenditure of all their strength.They lacked the power of endurance, which could only be obtained by longpractice. "It is the last pound that breaks the camel's back;" and itwas so with them. With a little less exertion they might have preservedsome portion of their vigor for the final struggle, which was yet tocome.
They had begun upon the last mile. The crew of the Butterfly were asconfident of winning the race as though the laurel of victory hadalready been awarded to them; and though their backs ached and theirarms were nearly numb, a smile of triumph rested on their faces.
"Now for the tug of war," said Frank, in a low, subdued tone, loudenough to be heard by all his crew, but so gentle as not to create anyof that dangerous excitement which is sometimes the ruin of the bestlaid plans.
As he spoke the motions of his body became a little quicker, andgradually increased in rapidity till the stroke was as quick as wasconsistent with perfect precision. The result of this greaterexpenditure of power was instantly observed, and at the end of the nextquarter of a mile the boats were side by side again.
"They are beating us!" said Tony, in a whisper. "Dip a littledeeper--pull strong!"
The exciting moment of the race had come. The spectators on the shoregazed with breathless interest upon the spectacle, unable, though"Zephyr stock was up," to determine the result.
Not a muscle in Frank's face moved, and steadily and anxiously his crewwatched and followed his movements.
"Steady!" said he, in his low, impressive tone, as he quickened a triflemore the stroke of the crew.
The Butterflies were "used up," incapable of making that vigorous effortwhich might have carried them in ahead of the Zephyr.
"A little deeper," continued Frank. "Now for it!"
As he spoke, with a sudden flash of energy he drove his oarsmen to theirutmost speed and strength, and the Zephyr shot by the judges' boat fulla length and a half ahead of the Butterfly.
"Cease--rowing!" said he. "Ready--up!"
The Butterfly came in scarcely an instant behind, and her oars werepoised in air, like those of her rival.
A long and animating shout rang along the shore, when the result of therace was apparent, and the band struck up "See the conquering herocomes."