The Wreck of the Red Bird: A Story of the Carolina Coast

by George Cary Eggleston

  CHAPTER XXIII.

  THE VOYAGE OF THE "APHRODITE."

  Saturday dawned soft and warm. After breakfast the boys cooked the fewprovisions that remained, intending to eat their mid-day meal in theboat, as a mere luncheon, and to satisfy their appetites with betterfood of Maum Sally's preparing, when they should arrive at Bluffton.

  They filled the coffee-pot with drinking water--for the water kegs ofthe _Red Bird_ had been lost in that boat's mishap,--and bestowed theirother scant belongings on board. The moment that the outgoing tide grewslack they began their homeward voyage, giving the old camp three lusty,farewell cheers, and parting with their old associations there with atouch of real regret.

  For the first mile or two Ned and Jack were at the oars. Then Charleyrelieved Ned, as the boat drew out from among the low-lying marshislands into a broad stretch of water.

  The wind was blowing in from the sea, not strongly, but steadily, andafter an hour's rowing Jack saw that Ned was rather uneasily watchingsome light, low-flying banks of mist which were scudding along overhead.

  "What is it, Ned?" he asked.

  "Nothing of importance--or at least I hope so."

  "Well, what is it? Do those little clouds mean rain?"

  "I wish they did," said Ned; "but they're not clouds, at least in theusual sense, and I'm afraid they don't mean rain."

  "Out with it. We're partners in all our joys and sorrows," said Charley,"so let's hear all about the clouds that aren't clouds but somethingelse. What are they?"

  "A sea fog," answered Ned; "this breeze is coming in from the sea ladenwith moisture, and those clouds just above us are banks of fog."

  "Well, what of it?"

  "We shall be shut in in five minutes," said Ned. "Look! you can't seehalf a mile now, and it is settling right down upon us, growing thickerevery minute."

  It was as Ned said. The wall of thick fog was closing in, and it wasalready impossible to see any thing except the waste of water aroundthem. A few minutes later even the water could be seen for only a fewyards around.

  "Lie on your oars, boys," said Ned.

  "Why not row on?" asked Charley.

  "Because I don't know which way to steer, and rowing may only take usout of our course."

  "Can't you hold your course straight ahead?"

  "No. That would be possible in a fog if rowing always drove a boatstraight ahead, and if there were no cross currents in the water; butboth 'ifs' stand in the way. Without a compass nobody can keep a boat inany thing like a straight course in such a fog. The tide is running up,and so if we don't row at all we shall drift in the right direction, atleast in a general way, while if we row, we may go all wrong."

  "How long is such a fog likely to last?" asked Jack.

  "It is impossible to tell. A change in the wind or in the state of theatmosphere may clear it away at any moment; or it may last a week."

  "A week!" exclaimed Charley; "what shall we do if it does? We haven't anounce of food left, and only a little water," looking into thecoffee-pot.

  "We needn't manage the whole week this afternoon," said Jack. "It willbe better to keep cool and do the best thing that can be done everyminute. Just now, Ned says, the best thing is to drift with the tide, sowe'll drift, and wait, and keep our wits about us so as to see anychance that offers for doing better."

  Jack spoke in a cheerful voice, and his tone of courage served to bracehis companions somewhat, but it was plain to all three that theirposition was really one of great danger and uncertainty. It was Jack'sexcellent habit, however, to grow strong and courageous in difficulty ordanger; he never allowed himself to become panic-stricken, or to dofoolish, frantic things.

  "Jack," said Charley after a while, "I don't believe there's any whinein you."

  "I don't know," replied Jack; "I hope there isn't. What good wouldwhining do?"

  An hour passed, and still the fog grew thicker. Another hour; the breezehad ceased to blow, and the gray mist lay like a blanket over the water.It seemed piled in thick layers, one on top of another. It was so densethat it could be seen floating between one of the boys and another, likesmoke from a cigar. The boys could see its slow writhing and twisting inthe still air, moved as it was only by their breath, or by theoccasional movements of their bodies. It would have been impossible insuch a fog to see a ship twenty feet distant.

  For still another hour and another the boys sat still in the boat,rarely speaking or in any way breaking the awful silence of thefog-bound solitude.

  At last Ned bent his head down close to the gunwale to scan the surfaceof the water.

  "I see marsh grass here," he said, "but it is completely under water.Watch for any that shows above the surface, and if you see any catchhold of it and hold on."

  The boys bent over, one on one side, the other on the other. Presentlythe protruding tops of the tall marsh grass appeared above the water,and seemed to float slowly by. Several times Jack and Charley caughtsmall bunches of it, but the impetus of the drifting boat was too great,and the grass was pulled up from the muddy bottom. After a little while,the water growing shallower, the grass showed higher above the surface,while it increased also in quantity, impeding the motion of the boat.Then each of the boys seized a bunch and the boat was brought to astand.

  "There, that's better," said Ned, as the motion of the boat ceased.

  "Why don't you want to drift?" asked Jack.

  "Because it is about the turn of the tide," answered Ned, "and I don'twant to drift in the wrong direction."

  "Then why didn't you cast anchor when you first saw from the grass thatwe were in shallow water?"

  "Because I don't want to be caught here on a marsh island if I can helpit."

  "I don't understand," said Jack.

  "Well, you see it is about high tide now, and we have drifted upon oneof the many mud banks covered with this marsh grass. Some of them arecovered with water at high tide, as this one is, but quite bare whenthe tide is out. When I saw that we were drifting over one I wanted tostop the boat, to avoid being carried back again toward the sea; butwe're in danger of getting left here high and dry on a mud bank when thetide runs out, and that would be a bad fix to get into. So instead ofdropping anchor, we'll simply hold on by the grass, and as the tide goesout we'll try to work off into deeper water."

  "I see," said Jack.

  "I wish I could, then," said Charley, who had recovered his spirits; "ifI could see I'd steer for Bluffton."

  "Come, Charley," said Ned, "this is no joking matter, I can assure you.It's growing quite dark now, and unless the fog lifts very soon we maybe stuck here in the mud, for the night at least; suppose you give her afew stokes with the oars, boys; the tide is falling rapidly, and we mustget off this bank."

  The boys rowed slowly, Ned steering and watching the water. It grewsteadily shallower, so he turned the boat about, convinced that thedirection he had taken was toward the centre of the bank, instead oftoward the deep water. He had not gone far in the new directionhowever, before the keel scraped the mud, and another change had to bemade in the course. Still the keel scraped, in whatever direction heturned.

  "Pull away with all your might, boys!" he cried; "if we don't reach deepwater in five minutes we're stuck!"

  Jack and Charley bent to their oars, and for a few minutes the boatslipped forward through the tall marsh grass. But her keel was draggingin the soft mud, and as the tide was rapidly running out, the boat sankdeeper every minute.

  "Pull away, as hard as you can!" cried Ned, seeing that the speed wasrapidly growing less. "Here, you're exhausted, Jack; let me take youroar. Now, Charley, give it to her!"

  The oarsmen bent to their work with the strength of desperation, but thekeel was now completely buried in the mud, and the whole bottom of theboat rested in the slimy ooze. Do what they would, the boys could driveher no further.

  "Stuck!" cried Jack.

  "Yes, stuck, fairly stuck, and in for a night of it, fog or no fog,"said Ned.

  "What's to be done?"
asked Charley.

  "Nothing now, except go to sleep if we can. It's so cold and raw thatwe'll find that pretty hard work. I wish we had brought a lot of mossfor blankets."

  "But what if the fog lifts in the night?" asked Charley.

  "Well, what if it does? We can do nothing now till the tide comes into-morrow morning. We're high and dry now, and the tide will continue torun out until one or two o'clock to-night. Then it will turn, but weshan't be afloat again till very nearly high tide,--say about seven oreight o'clock to-morrow morning."

  "Yes," said Jack, "and as we have eaten nearly nothing since morning,and have nothing to eat till we get to Bluffton, we shall need all thestrength we can get from sleep. So let's sleep if we can."

  Bestowing themselves as comfortably as they could, the three worn-out,half-famished lads did their best to sleep; but there was very littlechance of that. No sooner had they ceased to exert themselves, than thepenetrating cold of the fog, which had already saturated their scantyclothing, made them shiver and shake as with an ague fit.

  They were obliged occasionally to go to the oars for exercise, in orderto keep their blood in circulation, and so there was no chance of anything like sleep beyond an occasional cat nap. Not long before dawn itbegan to rain, and Ned, who had been dozing, suddenly sprang up, cryingout:

  "What's that? Rain? Good!"

  "Why, 'good'?" asked Charley, shivering; "I'm damp enough already."

  "Good, because if it rains hard the fog will disappear."

  "Why?"

  "Because it will be converted into rain, and fall. A fog disappearsalways either by rising and floating away, or by falling in the shape ofrain; and this one means to fall, I should say, if I may judge by theway it is coming down now."

  It had, indeed, begun to pour. The condition of the boys was thusrendered still more uncomfortable than before, but at least theirprospects were brightened by way of compensation, and as the steadydownpour cleared the air of the dense fog, their spirits bounded upagain in spite of all the discomforts of their situation.

  "I say, Jack," said Charley, "are you a prophet or a weather witch?"

  "Neither, so far as I am informed," replied Jack; "why do you ask?"

  "Only because I suspect that you either foresaw this fog or created it."

  "I don't see the force of your suspicion," said Jack.

  "Don't you remember how you croaked about slips between the cup and thelip when Ned and I were so sure of getting to Bluffton?"

  "Yes, of course; but I didn't really expect any thing of this nature. Ionly spoke generally."

  "Out of the abundance of your wisdom. But I won't make fun, for you wereright."

  "And, besides," said Ned, "the situation just now isn't a bit funny.There's a young river running down my back, and I'm in for a goodscolding from Maum Sally when I see her. She'll scold me for overstayingmy time, for wrecking the boat, for losing my boots, for spoiling myclothes, and for every thing else she can think of. And yet, thoughyou'll hardly believe it, I heartily wish I could be sure of gettingthat scolding very early this morning."

  CHAPTER XXIV.

  MAUM SALLY.

  Daylight came about five o'clock, and Ned made use of the earliest lightfor looking about him and determining his position. So buried was theboat in the tall marsh grass, that he had to stand upon the highest partof the bow in order to see at all. At first he could make out verylittle, but as it grew lighter--for, the rain having ceased, the lightgained rapidly toward six o'clock--he was able to make out the bearingspretty well.

  "I say, fellows," he said, turning to his companions, "we made a centreshot. If we had tried, in the broadest light of the clearest day, wecouldn't have put the _Aphrodite_ more exactly in the middle of thismarsh bank."

  Further inspection showed that this judgment was accurate. The boat layprecisely in the middle of the little island, which stretched away twoor three hundred yards on each side.

  The tide had risen enough by half-past six for the water to lick thesides of the boat, but it would be a full hour or more before the_Aphrodite_ would float up out of the mud, and even then it would benecessary to wait awhile longer for deeper water, before trying to pushher great bulk through the rank marsh grass.

  "Why not hurry matters by getting out and pushing the empty boat?" askedimpatient Charley, who had already declared himself to be in a state ofactual starvation.

  "Just take one of the oars, Charley," said Ned, "and feel of the bottomwe should have to walk on."

  Charley took the oar, pushed it through the roots of the grass, andthen, with scarcely an effort, plunged its whole length straightdownward through the soft mud.

  "Ya--as, I see," he drawled, as he drew the oar out again; "it isn'tprecisely the sort of lawn that one would choose for walking about on inslippers."

  Just then oars were heard, and looking in the direction from which thesound came, Ned suddenly cried out:

  "Hi! Maum Sally! Hi there! Here we are, out here in the marsh!" Thenturning to his companions, he said:

  "It's Maum Sally in the little boat. I wonder where she's going thisearly on Sunday morning."

  "HI! MAUM SALLY!"]

  Maum Sally did not leave him long in doubt on this head. Rowing her boatas far into the grass and as near to them as she could, she came to astop at about a hundred and fifty yards from the _Aphrodite_. Thenstanding up in her boat, placing her bare arms akimbo, and tossing herred-turbaned head back, she began:

  "Now, look heah, young Ned! What you mean by dis heah sort o' doins?Didn't you promise me faithful to be back agin in a month? An' ain't demonth done gone, an' heah you is a idlin' about on a ma'sh, an' itSunday mawnin' too? Jes' you come straight 'long home now."

  After she had spent her first breath in a tirade which was half scoldingand half coddling,--for that was always her way with Ned, whom she hadspoiled all his life, from the cradle upward,--she paused long enoughfor Ned to explain that he and his companions could not go to her untilthe tide should rise at least a foot more.

  "Now listen, boys," he said; "she'll keep it up till the rising tidebrings her to us, and we're in for an hour of it."

  "Why not persuade her to go back and get breakfast ready by the time weget there?" asked Jack.

  "Go back? Not she. My month was up yesterday, and as I didn't put in anappearance, she set out to find me and bring me home this morning, andyou just bet she won't go home without me. She'll row this way as fastas the rising water will let her, and she'll keep on scolding andcoddling me all the time. Then she'll jump in here and hug me as if Iwere her long-lost baby boy. Hear her!"

  Maum Sally fulfilled Ned's prediction to the letter. As she drew nearer,and made out the forlorn condition of the young Crusoes, discovering,little by little, how ragged they were, she scolded more and moresavagely, while Ned laughed and heartily enjoyed it all, taking pains todirect her attention to the various losses he had sustained, and hintingnow and then at the difficulties he had encountered and the dangers hehad passed. Each word of his gave Maum Sally a new theme for herscolding, and as the little boat pushed itself up to the big one sheleaped from the one into the other, changing her tone, manner, andexpression in the very middle of a sentence, somewhat thus:

  "I tell you, young Ned, ef I gits my han's on you, you ugly, provokin',no 'count young scape--darlin', blessed boy, aint ole Sally happy to gither arms roun' you agin, and hug you jis like you was a baby agin; an'now I's got you safe in these arms agin, I tell you I's happy."

  The sudden change in the sentence occurred just as Maum Sally steppedfrom one boat into the other, and fell upon Ned with that savage fury ofaffection which only a dear old black nurse can feel.

  To row out of the marsh when the water grew a little deeper, and then torow home to a late but toothsome breakfast, was easy enough now. Then along day of complete rest followed, and the whole story of the wreck ofthe _Red Bird_ was a memory merely.

  THE END.

 
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