CHAPTER XXV
WHAT SAVED MIKE
Let us be just to all. I therefore make haste to say that when KitWoodford thus threw Mike Murphy into the Back River he did not doubt foran instant that he was a swimmer, for whoever heard of a lusty youthseventeen years old who could not take care of himself in water? Ofcourse there are such, but they are so few that they are a negligiblenumber.
Graff Miller was startled when he heard the splash, and turning his headsaw the lad disappear, but his belief was the same as his companion's,and turning on more power, he shot beyond sight before the lad could cometo the surface.
Now I wish to say further that it is a fact within the knowledge of morethan one that a person who did not know how to swim has, upon beingprecipitated into deep water, struck out like a master of the natatorialart. A father standing on the shore of a lake in northern England saw aboat upset when a hundred yards off and his little boy flung clear of thesupport. The lad had never even tried to swim, but as he was going downthe parent shouted to him:
"If you don't come right to land, I'll whip you within an inch of yourlife!"
And the little fellow swam to where the frantic parent awaited him.
Moreover, I once witnessed the same strange occurrence. I was not sixyears old when I was waiting at the side of a deep pond, and watching mybrother, four years older, construct a raft, with which he had promisedto come over and take me a-sailing. He put a number of boards looselytogether, and using a shingle for a paddle, worked out from shore andbegan making his way toward me, who was in high spirits over the promisedtreat.
In the very middle of the pond, where the water was fully twenty feetdeep, the primitive raft began disintegrating. The boards slipped apart,so that those upon which my brother stood sank under his weight. Had hebeen older and more sensible, he would have known that this need not meandanger to him, for the smallest board was buoyant enough to hold his headabove water, and he could have worked his way to land with such support.But the sight of the structure breaking apart threw him into a panic. Hemade a frenzied leap as far out as he could, came up instantly, blew thewater from his mouth and swam so easily to where I was standing that Inever dreamed he was in peril. I should have said that never before hadhe tried to swim.
The explanation of what seems unaccountable is simple. Now and then ithappens that when a sudden demand is made upon a person to save his lifeby swimming he instinctively does the right thing. He adjusts his bodycorrectly, and uses his legs and arms properly--his action being exactlylike those of a bullfrog when he starts on a voyage to the other side ofthe spring where he makes his home.
This thing does not often occur, but, as I have said, it does now andthen. Let me beg you never to make the experiment unless it is forcedupon you, for I dread what the result would be.
You have already guessed that this is what took place with Mike Murphy. Icannot think of a more startling awaking than that of a sleeping personwho is flung into a deep stream of very cold water. Mike's momentum tookhim several feet below the surface, but he quickly rose again, shook thewater from his eyes, blew it out of his mouth, and then swam straight forland with the skill that you would show in a similar situation. Even intaking the right direction he was providentially guided, for at first thedense fog shut everything from sight, but after a few strokes, he saw thedim outlines of the trees, and never stopped the vigorous swimming untilhe reached up, grasped an overhanging limb of a near-by tree and felt hisfeet touch bottom.
And then he was so overcome by what had taken place and it was so beyondhis comprehension that he believed it was a miracle. Standing on the bankin his dripping clothing, he was mute for a full minute. Then he sank onhis knees and looking reverently upward said:
"I thank Thee, my Heavenly Father, for saving me life when I didn'tdesarve it. Why Ye took the trouble is beyond me, but I niver can thankThee enough. I'm going to try me bist to be more desarving of Yerkindness, and now if it's all the same to Yer blissed silf, plaise giveme a chance at that spalpeen that treated me as he did."
From down the river came the sound of the _Deerfoot's_ exhaust, growingfainter as the boat sped on its way. The hoarse blast of a steamer'swhistle shuddered through the mist, but the lad saw nothing of eithercraft. It was fog, fog on every hand.
He could not straighten out in his mind all that had taken place. Morethan one phase of the occurrences was beyond explanation. Overcoming in adegree the awe he felt for what had occurred in his own person, hethought:
"If the Captain and second mate didn't know I couldn't swim, I'd belaveit was them that dropped me overboard by way of a joke, as the Barrybrithers explained to the Judge was their raison for hanging Black Mike.It was thim spalpeens that wint fur the Captain whin he was journeyingthrough the woods. Begorra! but they are piling up a big debt fur me topay! But I'll sittle the same wid int'rist at siven thousand per cent.
"Where's Alvin and Chester all this time? Why didn't they git to the_Deerfut_ before me instead of laving it fur them chaps? What does it allmaan, anyway?"
One of the singular coincidences of this series of adventures was thatthe _Deerfoot_ in going down the Back River passed within a few rods ofthe _Water Witch_ coming up. The noise of the respective enginesprevented either party hearing the other, and the fog would have veiledthem had the space between been considerably less.
Not knowing that the launch of their enemies had been moored anywherenear, Mike did not look for it. Ignorant also of how far he had beencarried while asleep, he could not guess the distance to Beartownlanding. It might be half a mile or ten times as much. In truth, theformer distance was about right.
The pressing question was as to what he should do. His clothing even tohis cap was saturated. The morning was chilly, and he shivered. He mustfind a place where he could obtain warmth until his garments dried. Whenthat was done he would decide upon the next step to take.
Had he suspected that he was so close to the landing, he would havepicked his way thither and then followed the road to the home of Mrs.Friestone. It seemed to him that there must be a good many scatteredhouses, any one of which would give him welcome. He remembered that abroad highway runs the whole length of big Westport Island. Necessarilythis was parallel with the course of Back River. If he therefore turnedaway from the latter and held a direct course, he must sooner or laterreach the road named, where he would be sure soon to receive hospitality.
No doubt you know from experience how hard it is to hold a straightcourse when going through a wilderness, without landmarks to guide youand ignorant also of the "signs" which are as plain as print to theveteran hunter. The fog inclosed Mike on every hand, but his activityimparted a pleasant warmth to his frame, which otherwise would not havebeen felt, even though it was summer time.
He zigzagged sometimes to the right and sometimes to the left, but, onthe whole, held substantially to the right direction and gradually drewnear the dusty avenue which, once reached, would bring the end of hisdiscomforts. Good fortune stayed with him, for when he was beginning tofeel somewhat discouraged with his failure to free himself from thedripping woods, he abruptly came upon a clearing, in the midst of whichstood a small house, surrounded by a well-tilled garden and severalsmaller buildings. Chickens were scratching and picking at the earth, anda big dog, fortunately restrained by a chain, scrambled out of his kennelat sight of the stranger and barked and tugged to get at him.
Between him and Mike stretched a clothesline supported at intervals byleaning props, and despite the fact that the humidity in the air musthave been close to ninety-nine degrees, a corpulent woman was hanging outclothes. Two or three wooden pins were in her mouth, and every now andthen she reached up with one hand and squeezed the little conveniencesover the cord which supported the flapping clothes. She wore no bonnet orhat, and the untied shoes evidently were an old pair belonging to herhusband.
Hearing the dog bark, she looked around to learn the cause. She saw afreckle-faced youth in the act of doffing his cap and bowing.
"The top of the morning to yer ladyship, and would ye be willing to hangme across yer line till me clothes be dried?"
The woman snatched the pins from between her teeth and stared at him. Herface was broad, homely and good-natured.
"G'way now," she answered; "I don't hang up any clothes till the same is_claan_. It will take a waak's washing to rinder ye fit. If I straddle yeover the line wid yer faat and rid head hanging down and bumpingtogither, ye'll cut a purty figger a-flapping in the wind."
Mike's laughter rang out. She was Irish like him and his heart warmed toher.
"Begorra! I've met a leddy after me own heart. She's from the 'owld sod'and it's not mesilf that is going to have me own way in gay conversationwid the charming beauty."
True enough, the woman was his match and Mike was glad to learn it.
The Launch Boys' Adventures in Northern Waters Page 26