V
A RATHER BAD NIGHT
DURING the next two or three days the expedition worked its way throughthe tangled maze of big and little waterways, stopping only at night,in order that they might the sooner reach a point where game wasplentiful.
At last Cal, who knew more about the matter than any one else in theparty, pointed out a vast forest-covered region that lay ahead, with abroad stretch of water between.
“We’ll camp there for a day or two,” he said, “and get somethingbesides sea food to eat. There are deer there and wild turkeys, andgame birds, while squirrels and the like literally abound. I’ve huntedthere for a week at a time. It’s only about six miles from here, andthere’s a good breeze. We can easily make the run before night.”
Tom, who had by that time learned to handle the boat fairly well for anovice, was at the tiller, and the others, a trifle too confident ofhis skill perhaps, were paying scant attention to what he was doing.The stretch of water they had to cross was generally deep, as the chartshowed, but there were a few shoals and mud banks to be avoided. Whilethe boys were eagerly listening to Cal’s description of the huntinggrounds ahead, the boat was speeding rapidly, with the sail trimmednearly flat, when there came a sudden flaw in the wind and Tom, in hisnervous anxiety to meet the difficulty managed to put the helm thewrong way. A second later the dory was pushing her way through mud andsubmerged marsh grass. Tom’s error had driven her, head on, upon one ofthe grass covered mud banks.
Dick was instantly at work. Without waiting to haul the boom inboard,he let go the throat and peak halyards, and the sails ran down whilethe outer end of the boom buried itself in the mud.
“Now haul in the boom,” he said.
“Why didn’t you wait and do that first?” asked Tom, who was half out ofhis wits with chagrin over his blunder.
“Because, with the centre board up, if we’d hauled it in against thewind the boat would have rolled over and we should all have beenfloundering.”
“But the centre board was down,” answered Tom.
“Look at it,” said Cal. “Doubtless it was down when we struck, but aswe slid up into the grass it was shut up like a jackknife.”
“Stop talking,” commanded Larry, “and get to the oars. It’s now ornever. If we don’t get clear of this within five minutes we’ll haveto lie here all night. The tide is just past full flood and the depthwill grow less every minute. Now then! All together and back her out ofthis!”
With all their might the four boys backed with the oars, but the boatrefused to move. Dick shifted the ballast a little and they madeanother effort, with no result except that Tom, in his well-nigh insaneeagerness to repair the damage done, managed to break an oar.
“It’s no use, fellows,” said Larry. “You might as well ship your oars.We’re stuck for all night and must make the best of the situation.”
“Can’t we get out and push her off?” asked Tom in desperation.
“No. We’ve no bottom to stand on. The mud is too soft.”
“That’s one disadvantage in a dory,” said Dick, settling himself on athwart. “If we had a keel under us, we could have worked her free withthe oars.”
“If, yes, and perhaps,” broke in Cal, who was disposed to be cheerfullyphilosophical under all circumstances. “What’s the use in iffing,yessing and perhapsing? We’re unfortunate in being stuck on a mud bankfor the night, but stuck we are and there’s an end of that. We can’tmake the matter better by wishing, or regretting, or bemoaning ourfate, or making ourselves miserable in any other of the many ways thatevil ingenuity has devised for the needless chastisement of the spirit.Let us ‘look forward not back, up and not down, out and not in,’ asDr. Hale puts it. Instead of thinking how much happier we might be ifwe were spinning along over the water, let us think how much happierwe _shall_ be when we get out of this and set sail again. By the way,what have we on board that we can eat before the shades of night beginfalling fast?”
“Well, if you will ‘look forward,’ as you’ve advised us all to do,”said Dick Wentworth, “by which I mean if you will explore the forwardlocker, you’ll find there a ten-pound can of sea biscuit, and half adozen gnarled and twisted bologna sausages of the imported variety,warranted to keep in any climate and entirely capable of putting astrain upon the digestion of an ostrich accustomed to dine on tenpennynails and the fragments of broken beer bottles.”
“Where on earth did they come from?” asked Larry. “I superintended thelading of the boat—”
“Yes, I know you did, and I watched you. I observed that you had madeno provision for shipwreck and so I surreptitiously purchased andbestowed these provisions myself. The old tars at Gloucester deeplyimpressed it upon my mind that it is never safe to venture upon saltwater without a reserve supply of imperishable provisions to fall backupon in case of accidents like this.”
“This isn’t an accident,” said Tom, who had been silent for an unusualtime; “it isn’t an accident; it’s the result of my stupidity andnothing else, and I can never—”
“Now stop that, Tom!” commanded Cal; “stop it quick, or you’ll meetwith the accident of being chucked overboard. This was a mishap thatmight occur to anyone, and if there was any fault in the case everyone of us is as much to blame as you are. You don’t profess to be anexpert sailor, and we know it. We ought some of us to have helped youby observing things. Now quit blaming yourself, quit worrying and getto work chewing bologna.”
“Thank you, Cal,” was all that Tom could say in reply, and all set towork on what Dick called their “frugal meal,” adding:
“That phrase used to fool me. I found it in Sunday School books, wheresome Scotch cotter and his interesting family sat down to eat scones orporridge, and I thought it suggestive of something particularly good toeat. Having the chronically unsatisfied appetite of a growing boy, thething made me hungry.”
“This bologna isn’t a bit bad after you’ve chewed enough of the dry outof it to get the taste,” said Larry, cutting off several slices of thesmoke-hardened sausage.
“No,” said Dick, “it isn’t bad; but I judge from results that theDutchman who made it had rather an exalted opinion of garlic as aflavoring.”
“Yes,” Cal answered, speaking slowly after his habit, “the thingis thoroughly impregnated with the flavor and odor of the _alliumsativum_, and I was just revolving—”
“What’s that, Cal?” asked Larry, interrupting.
“What’s what?”
“Why, _allium_ something or other—the thing you mentioned.”
“Oh, you mean _allium sativum_? Why, that is the botanical name of thecultivated garlic plant, you ignoramus.”
“Well, how did you come to know that? You never studied botany.”
“No, of course not. I’ll put myself to the trouble of explaining amatter which would be obvious enough to you if you gave it properthought. I found the term in the dictionary a month or so ago when youand I had some discussion as to the relationship between the garlicand the onion. I may have been positive in such assertions as I foundit necessary to make in maintaining my side of the argument; doubtlessI was so; but I was not sufficiently confident of the soundness ofmy views to make an open appeal to the dictionary. I consulted itsecretly, surreptitiously, meaning to fling it at your head if I foundthat it sustained my contentions. As I found that it was stronglyprejudiced on your side, I refrained from dragging it into thediscussion. But I learned from it that garlic is _allium sativum_, andI made up my mind to floor you with that morsel of erudition at thefirst opportunity. This is it.”
“This is what?”
“Why, the first opportunity, to be sure. I’m glad it came now insteadof at some other time.”
“Why, Cal?”
“Why because we have about eleven hours of tedious waiting timebefore us and must get rid of it in the best way we can. I’ve managedto wear away several minutes of it by talking cheerful nonsense andspreading it out over as many words as I could. I’ve noticed thatchatte
r helps mightily to pass away a tedious waiting time, and I’mprofoundly convinced that the very worst thing one can do in a caselike ours is to stretch the time out by grumbling and fretting. If everI’m sentenced to be hanged, I shall pass my last night pouring forthdrivelling idiocy, just by way of getting through what I suppose mustbe rather a trying time to a condemned man.”
“By the way, Cal, you were just beginning to say something else whenLarry interrupted you to ask about the Latin name of garlic. Yousaid you were ‘just revolving.’ As you paused without any downwardinflection, and as you certainly were not turning around, I suppose youmeant you were just revolving something or other in your mind.”
“Your sagacity was not at fault, Tom, but my memory is. I was revolvingsomething in my mind, some nonsense I suppose, but what it was, I amwholly unable to remember. Never mind; I’ll think of a hundred otherequally foolish things to say between now and midnight, and by thattime we’ll all be asleep, I suppose.”
It was entirely dark now, and Dick Wentworth lighted a lantern andhoisted it as an anchor light.
“What’s the use, Dick, away out here?” asked one of the others.
“There may be no use in it,” replied Dick, “but a good seaman neverasks himself that question. He just does what the rules of navigationrequire, and carries a clear conscience. If a ship has to stop in midocean to repair her machinery even on the calmest and brightest of dayswhen the whole horizon is clear, the captain orders the three discs setthat mean ‘ship not under control.’ So we’ll let our anchor light doits duty whether there is need of it or not.”
“That’s right in principle,” said Larry, “and after all it makes nodifference as that lantern hasn’t more than a spoonful of oil in it.But most accidents, as they are called—”
Larry was not permitted to say what happened to “most accidents,” foras he spoke Tom called out:
“Hello! it’s raining!”
“Yes—sprinkling,” answered Larry, holding out his hand to feel thedrops, “but it’ll be pouring in five minutes. We must hurry into ouroilskins. There! the anchor light has burned out and we must fumble inthe dark.”
With that he opened a receptacle and hurriedly dragged the yellow,oil-stiffened garments out, saying as he did so:
“It’s too dark to see which is whose, but we’re all about of a size andthey don’t cut slickers to a very nice fit. So help yourselves and put’em on as quickly as you can, for it’s beginning to pour down.”
The boys felt about in the dark until presently Cal called out:
“I say, fellows, I want to do some trading. I’ve got hold of threepairs of trousers and two squams, but no coat. Who wants to swap a coatfor two pairs of trousers and a sou’wester?”
The exchanges were soon made and the waterproof garments donned, butnot before everybody had got pretty wet, for the rain was comingdown in torrents now, such as are never seen except in tropical orsubtropical regions.
The hurried performance served to divert the boys’ minds and cheertheir spirits for a while, but when the “slickers” were on and closelyfastened up, there was nothing to do but sit down again in the dismalnight and wait for the time to wear away.
“Now this is just what we needed,” said Cal, as soon as the othersbegan to grow silent and moody.
“What, the rain?”
“Yes. It helps to occupy the mind. It gives us something to thinkabout. It is a thing of interest. By adding to our wretchedness, itteaches us the lesson that—”
“Oh, we don’t want any lessons, Cal; school’s out,” said Dick. “What Iwant to know is whether you ever saw so heavy a rain before. I neverdid. Why, there are no longer any drops—nothing but steady streams.Did you ever see anything like it?”
“Often, and worse,” Larry answered. “This is only an ordinary summerrain for this coast.”
“Well now, I understand—”
“Permit me to interrupt,” broke in Cal, “long enough to suggest thatthe water in this boat is now half way between my ankles and my knees,and I doubt the propriety of suffering it to rise any higher. Supposeyou pass the pump, Dick.”
Dick handed the pump to his companion, who was not long in clearing theboat of the water. Then Tom took it and fitfully renewed the pumpingfrom time to time, by way of keeping her clear. After, perhaps, anhour, the rain slackened to a drizzle far more depressing to thespirits than the heavy downpour had been. The worst of the matter wasthat the night was an intensely warm one, and the oilskin clothingin which the boys were closely encased, was oppressive almost beyondendurance. Presently Dick began unbuttoning his.
“What are you doing, Dick? “Tom asked as he heard the rustle.
“Opening the cerements that encase my person,” Dick answered.
“But what for?”
“Why, to keep from getting too wet. In these things the sweat thatflows through my skin is distinctly more dampening than the drizzlingrain.”
“I’d smile at that,” said Cal, “if it were worth while, as it isn’t.We’re in the situation Charles Lamb pityingly imagined all mankind tohave been during the ages before candles were invented. If we crack ajoke after nightfall we must feel of our neighbor’s cheek to see if heis smiling.”
The desire for sleep was strong upon all the company, and one by onethey settled themselves in the least uncomfortable positions possibleunder the circumstances, and became silent in the hope of catching atleast a cat nap now and then. There was very little to be done in thatway, for the moment one part of the body was adjusted so that nothinghurt it, a thwart or a rib, or the edge of the rail, or something elsewould begin “digging holes,” as Larry said, in some other part.
Cal was the first to give up the attempt to sleep. After suffering asmuch torture as he thought he was called upon to endure he undoubledhimself and sat upright. The rest soon followed his example, and Calthought it best to set conversation going again.
“After all,” he said meditatively, “this is precisely what we came toseek.”
“What? The wretchedness of this night? I confess I am unable to takethat view of it,” answered Larry almost irritatedly.
“That is simply because your sunny temper is enshrouded in the murkygloom of the night, and your customary ardor dampened by the drizzle.You are not philosophical. You shouldn’t suffer external things todisturb your spiritual calm. It does you much harm and no manner ofgood. Besides, it is obvious that you judged and condemned my thoughtwithout analyzing it.”
“How is that, Cal? Tell us about it,” said Dick. “Your prosing may putus to sleep in spite of the angularity and intrusive impertinence ofeverything we try to rest ourselves upon. Do your own analyzing and letus have the benefit of it.”
“Oh, it’s simple enough. I indulged in the reflection that this sortof thing is precisely what we set out on this expedition to find,and it is so, if you’ll only think of it. We came in search of twothings—adventure and game. Surely this mud-bank experience is anadventure, and I’m doing my best to persuade you fellows to be ‘game’in its endurance.”
“That finishes us,” said Dick. “A pun is discouraging at all times; apoor, weak-kneed, anæmic pun like that is simply disheartening, andcoming at a time of despondency like this, it reduces every fibre ofcharacter to a pulp. I feel that under its influence my back bone hasbeen converted into guava jelly.”
“Your speech betrayeth you, Dick. I never heard you sling English morevigorously than now. And you have regained your cheerfulness too, andyour capacity to take interest. Upon my word, I’ll think up another punand hurl it at you if it is to have any such effect as that.”
“While you’re doing it,” said Larry, “I’m going to get myself out ofthe sweatbox I’ve been in all night. You may or may not have observedit, but the rain has ceased, and the tide has turned and if I may bepermitted to quote Shakespeare, ‘The glow-worm shows the matin to benear.’ In modern phrase, day is breaking, and within about two hoursthe _Hunkydory_ will be afloat again.”
Wit
h the relief of doffing the oppressive oilskins, and the rapidlycoming daylight, the spirits of the little company revived, and it wasalmost a jolly mood in which they made their second meal on hard shipbiscuit and still harder smoked bolognas.
What Happened at Quasi: The Story of a Carolina Cruise Page 7