What Happened at Quasi: The Story of a Carolina Cruise

by George Cary Eggleston

  XXXV

  AGAIN TOM FINDS SOMETHING

  WHEN morning came all the boys admitted that Cal had been right insaying that troubles exaggerate themselves at night and seem farless hopeless when faced by daylight. The situation was the samethat morning that it had been at midnight, but it did not seem sobad. Dunbar had not appeared and every hour that passed made it lessprobable that he ever would return. But somehow even that prospect didnot altogether appal the boys when they thought of it by daylight.

  Nevertheless, their minds were greatly disturbed as they waitedthroughout that day for Cal to unbosom himself of the ideas andsuggestions he had promised to offer. They hoped he would do so atbreakfast, but he talked instead of plans for that day’s work inrebuilding the hut. While they were engaged in building it there was noopportunity for him to set forth his views; they could not get togetherto hear his plans without delaying the work, and they were agreed thatnothing must be permitted to interrupt that. They looked forward todinner as the opportunity he would probably seize upon for explaining,but when during that meal some one threw out a hint that that was asgood a time as any, Cal replied:

  “We’ll wait till evening; we must give Mr. Dunbar till then to return.If he doesn’t put in an appearance by sunset to-day we may as well giveup looking for him. Then will be the time for discussing the situationand planning ways out of it. Now we’ll all get to work again.”

  There was something in Cal’s manner and in his general cheerfulnesswhich comforted his comrades, though it would have puzzled them to sayhow or why. It was evident at any rate that Cal had not lost hope. Itwas obvious that he saw nothing in the situation that should suggestdespair, and his manifest confidence was in some degree contagious.

  The sun was still an hour high when suddenly Cal called out:

  “Suppose we let it go at that, boys. The thing’s good enough as itstands and we can get on with it for the few weeks that remain of ourstay at Quasi.”

  “Then you really see a way out?” asked Larry. “What is it?”

  “Come on over to the bluff and we’ll have a last look for Mr. Dunbar.If he isn’t within sight we’ll give him up and make up our minds thatwe shall never see the _Hunkydory_ again. Then we’ll talk the thingover and see what is to be done.”

  They set out for the bluff, restraining their impatience to hear whatCal might have to say with a good deal of difficulty, and only becausethey must. They knew he would say nothing until he should be ready, andthat if they hurried him he would remain silent the longer.

  No sign appearing of Dunbar or the dory, Cal sat down with the othersand seemed ready to say what was in his mind.

  “This is a situation that we didn’t reckon upon, but it is by no meanshopeless, and we shall enjoy talking about it as the crowning event inour trip to Quasi when we come to think of it only as a memory.”

  “But we’re not out of it yet,” interrupted Larry, “and I for one see noprospect of getting out.”

  “There speaks despair, born of pessimism,” Cal smilingly said. “‘Hopesprings eternal in the human breast,’ you know, and my breast isaltogether human and hopeful. But let us suppose your despair is wellfounded, and see what then. At worst we shall not starve to death.There is plenty of game—”

  “Yes, and fish too,” Tom interjected.

  “Yes, and fish too. It won’t be easy to get them without a boat, butwe’ll manage in some way.”

  “We can easily make a raft to fish from,” suggested Dick.

  “I had thought of that,” resumed Cal, “but it’s impracticable.”

  “Why so?”

  “Because we have no anchor and nothing that will serve as a substitutefor one. Of course the tide would quickly sweep our raft away from anybar we might try to fish upon. No, what fish we get will have to becaught with the castnet at low tide, and in the mouths of sloughs wheremullets feed, particularly at night. But there is game, and there areoysters, and no end of crabs. We shall not starve to death. We have nobread left, and Tom’s sweet potato patch is about exhausted, but we canlive on the other things for the two or three weeks that we must stayhere.”

  “You’ve said something like that several times, Cal,” said Larry, witha touch of impatience. “What do you mean by it?”

  “I mean that this is the beginning of September; that the collegesession will begin on the first of October—less than a month hence;that our honored parents expect us to be in attendance at that time;and that if we don’t get home in time to pack our trunks they willsend out and search for us; and finally, that as Major Rutledge, ofCharleston, whom I have the honor to call father, knew in advance thatwe intended to visit Quasi on this trip, Quasi will be the place atwhich he will first look for us. So we’ll have our little frolic outand it will be great fun to tell the fellows at college about it afterwe get acquainted with them.”

  The spirits of the boys responded promptly to Cal’s confident prophecy,which indeed was not so much a prophecy as a statement of simple factsknown to all of them, though in their half panic-stricken mood they hadnot thought of them before.

  Presently Dick had something to say that added a new impulse toactivity.

  “Of course, Cal is right, and we’ll be rescued from Quasi before theend of the month, but I for one would like us to get away without beingrescued. Think of the alarm and distress our mothers will suffer if wedo not turn up in time, especially as this earthquake has happened.They will think we’ve come to grief in some way and—I say, boys, wesimply _must_ get away from here before they take the alarm.”

  “We certainly ought to if there was any way,” said Cal, “but of coursethere isn’t.”

  “Yes, there is,” answered Dick, confidently. “You’re the pessimist thistime, Cal.”

  “Go ahead and tell us your plan,” responded Cal. “I’m always ready forthe hopeful prospect if I can find it. What do you propose, Dick?”

  “To build a sort of catamaran. It can’t be much of a craft because wehave no tools and no fit materials, but these waters are so closelyland-locked that all we need is to make something that will float. Wecan paddle it to the village up there, ten miles or so away, and fromthere we can walk to the railroad.”

  “So far, so good,” said Cal, when Dick ceased to speak. “Go on and tellus the rest.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why the ‘how’ of it all. What is the plan of your catamaran, and howare we to make it?”

  “Don’t be sceptical, Cal, till you’ve—”

  “I’m not sceptical—not a bit. I’m only asking what we are to doand how, so that we may get to work at it early in the morning, orto-night, for that matter, if there’s anything that can be done by firelight. You spoke of our parents awhile ago, and of the alarm they mustfeel if we don’t get back on time. I’ve been thinking of my motherever since. She’s an invalid, you know, and a shock of that sort mightkill her. So I’m ready to work by night or by day, or both, if it willhelp to spare her. Go on and tell us your plan.”

  “I will. You know, of course, what a catamaran is, so I need notexplain that. We will cut two logs, about twelve or fourteen feet long,one of them eight or ten inches thick and the other a mere pole. We’llhew their ends sharp—boat-fashion—and lay them parallel to eachother, seven feet or so apart. We’ll fasten them securely in place withstout poles at the bow and stern and amidships, binding the poles inplace with limber vines. That will complete our framework. Then we’llplace a light pole longitudinally on the cross braces and about threefeet inside the larger of our two logs. From the log to this polewe’ll construct a light deck of cane on which to stand as we paddleand push the craft along. Of course it will be a rude thing, very hardto manage, but as no part of it will be in the water except the twologs—one a mere pole—it will offer very little resistance, not halfas much as a raft would.”

  “No, not a tenth,” answered Larry.

  “Come on,” said Cal. “We’re burning daylight. This job is yours, Dick,and you are to boss it,
but I’ll be foreman of the gang and keepmyself and the rest of you at work. We’ll let supper go till afterdark, and utilize what’s left of the daylight in cutting cane, vines,poles and whatever else you need. Then we’ll be ready in the morningto cut the logs and begin the work of construction. Hoop la! We’ll beafloat again before the week’s up! Dick, you’re a dandy, and I’ll neveraccuse you of pessimism again. ‘Look up and not down, forward and notback, out and not in, and lend a hand.’ Dr. Hale put all there is ofsound philosophy into that one sentence.”

  After the darkness made an end of work for that day the boys sat downgleefully to their supper, and hopefully laid plans for the morrow.Presently Larry jestingly turned to Tom:

  “It’s your turn now, Tom. You are credited in this company withsomething like a genius for finding things at the critical moment whenwe need them most. Why don’t you bring your abilities to bear on thepresent situation and find something—a chest of tools or a keg ofnails, or something else useful?”

  “Perhaps I will,” answered Tom. “Anyhow, I’m going out now to see whatI can find in three traps I set yesterday. There have been coon tracksover that way every morning recently, and the gentleman who made themmay have walked into one of my traps.”

  The boys kept a number of torches ready for lighting, now that the lackof oil rendered the lanterns useless, and taking one of these withhim, Tom set out to inspect his traps. He was gone for so long thathis comrades were wondering what had become of him, when suddenly heappeared, coming from the direction of the bluff, though he had gonequite the opposite way.

  “Did you get your coon?” asked Larry.

  “No,” said Tom; “but I found something.”

  “What was it, and where is it?”

  “Be patient and I’ll tell you about it. After I had looked at my trapsit occurred to me that I might as well come back by way of the bluffs,on the chance—”

  “Ah, I guess it all,” interrupted Cal. “You found the dory at anchorthere and Mr. Dunbar busy polishing his finger nails preparatory to hisreturn to camp. Or perhaps you found a—”

  “Stop your nonsense, Cal,” commanded Larry. “Don’t you see that Tomreally has something to tell us!”

  “Go ahead, Tom; I’m as mum as the Sphinx,” answered Cal, who found itdifficult to keep his jubilant spirits within bounds now that he hadsomething to do which promised results.

  Tom resumed:

  “I don’t know whether it means anything or not, but it’s interestingat any rate and I may as well tell you about it. As I was passing theuprooted catalpa tree, my foot sank into wet sand, and as the sandthere had always been as dry as powder, I looked about to see what itmeant. To my surprise I saw water trickling out from under the rootsof the tree, and I went close up to inspect. As I was looking at thenew-born spring my eye was caught by something curiously entangledamong the upturned roots of the tree. It was so wound about by theroots and so buried in sand that I could make out its shape only inpart, and that with difficulty. To make matters worse my torch wasburned out by that time, so that I had only my fingers to explore with.I felt of the thing carefully, and made out that it is a keg of thekind that people sell gunpowder in. But I could get at only a smallpart of the chine, so I could learn no more about it. We can cut theroots away and dig it out to-morrow.”

  “We’ll cut the roots away and dig it out to-night,” answered Cal,rising and lighting a torch. “We have work to do to-morrow and can’tspare time. Besides, this is a mystery and we sha’n’t sleep till wesolve it; grab a cold torch each of you and come on. I’ll carry thelittle ax.”