CHAPTER XVI.
A WELL-DESERVED HOLIDAY.
Sabbath morning, after a rainy day and night, Charlie waking up, andlooking, as he usually did the first thing, in the direction of CaptainRhines’s, missed the great bulk of the Ark, which before seemed to fillup the whole cove. The wind was north-west, and blowing a gale.
“Father,” he shouted, “the Ark is gone! I can’t see her at all.”
“Well,” replied Ben, “she has got a wind that will shove her over thegulf.”
On the summit of the middle ridge stood the tallest tree on the island,with an eagle’s nest on it. Beside it grew a large spruce, whose topreached to its lower limbs, and next to the spruce a scrub hemlock,whose lower limbs came almost to the ground. Charlie had made a bridgeof poles from the spruce to the pine, and used to sit there, when thewind blew, till the tree shook so much that it frightened him, orthe eagles came to their nest; but, after a while, they became soaccustomed to him as to take fish from the limbs where he placed it.You could step from the ground to the hemlock, from that to the spruce,and from the spruce walk on the bridge to the pine. To this they wentwith the glass, saw the masts of the Ark just going out of sight, andwatched them till they were lost in the distance.
It was impossible, now that the bustle and excitement of fitting awaywas over, for Ben to be otherwise than anxious respecting the result ofthis venture, and the safety of his father and friends in so strangea craft. But he kept his thoughts and misgivings (if he had any) tohimself, though he afterwards said that it was the longest Sabbath heever spent.
At night, after Charlie had gone to bed, Sally asked Ben what he wasgoing about. He replied, to hew a barn frame; that, as he was going toraise crops, he must have some place to put them.
“I suppose you can do that kind of work alone, well enough?”
“Yes.”
“While it is pleasant weather, I would give Charlie a holiday, and lethim ask John and Fred Williams to come over here; it would please himvery much, and I really think he deserves it.”
“So do I. I’ll tell him in the morning that he may go over and getthem. They say there isn’t a better behaved, smarter boy in town thanFred Williams, for all he was such a scape-grace a few months ago.”
“I’ll tell him to-night, and then he can go as soon as he likes.”
She woke up Charlie, and told him the good news, which kept him awakea long time, laying plans for the amusement of his company. The nextmorning he set off betimes, arriving at Captain Rhines’s just as theywere sitting down to breakfast, where he received a hearty welcome.
When John heard that he had come to invite him and Fred to spend aweek on the island, he could no longer contain himself. He clapped hishands, and unable to find language to express his delight, hugged everyone at the table, and finished by hugging Tige.
“O, mother! only see Tige,” who, participating in the unusual joy, wasfrisking round the room, and wagging his tail; “I declare if I had atail I’d wag it, too. Don’t you wish you was going?”
“I’ll invite him,” said Charlie; and, taking him by the paw, he said,“Tige Rhines, Mr. Benjamin Rhines, wife, and baby invite you to makethem a visit, with John and Fred Williams.”
“Mother, he knows what it means, and is as glad as I am; see, he isgoing to roll.”
After rolling over, he remained a few moments on his back, his pawsstuck up in the air, apparently in joyous meditation. As this wasTige’s method of manifesting the very acme of happiness, we are boundto suppose, with John, that he knew what was in store for him.
“John, I can’t spare Tige; he is my protector when your father is gone;and we need him, too, now that the fruit is ripe, to watch the orchard,and also to get the cows for us.”
The boys now set off for Fred, whom they found in the mill, takingcharge, as his father was gone; but at noon he would return, and mightlet him go, though it was doubtful, as they were very busy indeed inthe mill; and the tears almost stood in his eyes as he said so.
The boys looked at the mill, and helped Fred a while, and then caughtfish in the mill-pond; for it was a tide-mill, though there was a brookran into it. When the gates were open, and the tide from the sea flowedin, the fish--smelts, tom-cod, and sometimes small mackerel, called“tinkers,” came with it. When tired of fishing they went to look at theducks. Fred had nearly a hundred ducks, that spent the greater part oftheir time in the mill-pond. Never did ducks have a better time thanFred’s; they had plenty of corn from the mill, and when the pond wasfull they fed upon the insects and little fish that live in the saltwater; but when the pond became low they resorted to the brook.
About a quarter of a mile up this little stream was a place where somewindfalls had partially dammed the water, forming a little pond, inwhich were myriads of frogs, tadpoles, polliwogs, and turtles of allsizes. It was a great amusement to the boys to see them, as the ponddiminished, preparing to go up the brook, each old duck followed byher own family. Being of many different colors, their glossy heads andbacks shining in the sun as they sailed up in regular order to givebattle to the frogs, they looked gay indeed. Charlie caught two of thesmall turtles to take home with him.
At noon, when Mr. Williams came home, he received the boys very kindly,and told them he was glad to have Fred go with them, as he had been agood boy, and worked nobly all summer, and that he might stay as longas they wanted him to. He then invited them to stop and dine withFred. As for Tige, little Fannie took him under her special care, andshared her dinner with him.
As they were going along Fred said to John, “This is the very lineI carried the day I played truant, and stuck the hook in me. Howmuch better I feel now than I did then. In those days I used to comesneaking home at night with a guilty conscience, and the fear of beingfound out spoilt all the comfort; but I tell you I felt about rightto-day, and couldn’t help thinking of it when father praised me up somuch before you, and was so willing to spare me, though he will have towork very hard while I’m gone.”
“I never disobeyed my father,” replied John, “because I never wantedto; but I’ve often done wrong, and if every boy feels as bad as I doabout it, there can’t be much comfort in it.”
“I don’t believe,” said Charlie, “that boys who have nothing to do butplay are as happy as we that work, for, when we get a holiday, we enjoymore in one hour than they do in a week.”
“I am glad,” continued Fred, “that I took up with Uncle Isaac’s advice,and staid at home, for, had I gone to Salem, I should probably havefound other companions as bad as Pete Clash, and being away from allrestraint, been worse than ever, and perhaps have come to the gallows.”
“It’s too late to do much to-night,” said Charlie, as they landed;“let’s go up to the great maple, and talk and lay plans. You’ve neverseen the great maple--have you, Fred?”
“No; you know I never was on here, only in the winter, when everythingwas frozen up, and covered with snow.”
Going along, they came to the two great trees which were connected bya common root, making a natural bridge across the brook, which, abovethem, widened out into a little basin.
“What a nice place this would be to keep ducks!” said Fred; “they couldswim in the cove, and, when the tide was out, come into this littlebasin, and go clear to the head of the brook.”
“I have often thought of it; but it takes a good deal to winter ducks,and we have to buy all our corn, both for ourselves and the hens. Butwe are going to plant a piece of corn in the spring, and then, perhaps,father will let me keep them.”
“I’ll give you a duck in the spring that wants to set, and eggs to putunder her.”
“Thank you, Fred.”
“I think it’s real nice to see them play in the water; and, when onegets a bug, the others swim after, and try to get it away from him, andall going one right after the other to the pond in the morning.”
Although Fred had grown up in a new country, he yet gazed with wonderupon the great maple. It was indeed a kingly tree, thi
rteen feet anda half in circumference at the roots, bearing its enormous coronal ofleaves in that symmetry of proportions which this tree (seen nowhere inits perfection but in the North American forests) sometimes exhibits.
“What is that, Charlie, on that lower limb?” asked John.
“That’s the baby-house.”
In the spring, at the time boys make whistles, Charlie had peeled thebark from some willow rods (which he called whitening the sallies), andmade a long, narrow basket. He then worked an ornamental rim round it,and put strong handles in each end, and hung it to one of the lowerlimbs of the great tree. Sally made a little bed-tick and pillow, whichCharlie stuffed with the down of the cat-tail (cooper’s) flag. Herethe baby would sit and swing, and play with things that Charlie gavehim, while he sat beneath and made whistles, or played with Rover; orif he wanted the little one to go to sleep, would pull a string thatwas fastened to the branch, and rock him to rest. In the absence ofcompanions of his own age, the tree was like a brother to Charlie; andsometimes, as he sat listening to the wind among the leaves, he almostfancied it could talk. Here was his workshop, where he made everythingthat could be made with a knife or hatchet, and at every leisure momenthe slipped off and ran to the tree.
Going round to the north-west side of it, they found a buildingabout seven feet high, and shingled on the roof and walls, with atight-fitting door, having a wooden latch and hinges. Opening the door,they saw that it had a regular frame, and was ceiled up with planedboards. There were two drawers in it, and above them were shelves. Thedrawers not being as deep as the closet, left a space of six inches infront. On one side was Charlie’s gun, and on the other his powder-hornand shot-pouch. On the edge of the top shelf was a squirrel stuffed,sitting up with his tail over his back, just as natural as life.
“How did you make that look so natural? and how did you fix the tailso?” asked Fred.
“I put a wire in it, and bent it to suit me.”
“But the head; it is exactly the right shape.”
“Well, I took the head out of the skin, and got the meat all off of it,and put the skull back again, and stuffed in wool enough to fill upbetween the skull and skin, where I had taken off the flesh.”
On a little shelf by itself, made of apple-tree wood, oiled andpolished, and upon which Charlie had evidently bestowed a great deal oflabor, was the Bible his mother had given him.
They now opened the drawers. The first one opened was filled with allkinds of boys’ playthings, which Charlie had made himself,--whistles,fifes, and squirt-guns made of elder, and a ball.
“What a neat ball that is,” said Fred, “and how well it is covered! Didyou cover it, Charlie?”
“Yes.”
“Will it bounce well?”
“Try it.”
Fred threw it down on the flat stone, when it went way up over his headinto the tree.
“My jingoes! I never saw a ball bounce like that. What is it made of?”
“Yarn.”
“But what is there in it? What’s it wound on?”
“That’s telling; guess.”
“On a piece of cork?”
“No.”
“On horse hair?”
“No; guess again.”
“I can’t guess.”
“Will you give it up?”
“Yes.”
“It’s wound on a sturgeon’s nose.”
“That’s a likely story!” exclaimed both boys in a breath. “Is itnow--honest?”
“Yes.”
“Where did you get a sturgeon’s nose?”
“They caught one at the mill; father and I were there with logs, and Igot his nose.”
“How did you know it would make a ball bounce?”
“I learned it of the boys in Nova Scotia.”
“What a feller you are to make things! I wish I could; I’d have lots ofthings. I couldn’t cover a ball as neat as that to save my life. I wishI had lived on an island, and had to make things; perhaps I might havelearned something.”
“I’ll give you that ball, Fred.”
“’Twould be too bad to take it from you, after you have taken so muchpains to make it.”
“I can make another. I take lots of comfort sitting under this treemaking things; besides, I’ve nobody to play with me, and there’s notmuch fun playing ball alone.”
They opened another drawer (which had two small ones--one beneath theother--at one end), but there was nothing in it, except a bow andarrows, some of which had iron points.
“What a splendid bow!” said John; “how stiff it is! and what handsomearrows! What is it made of?”
“Hornbeam.”
“I never saw a bow made of that; we boys make them of ash, walnut, orhemlock.”
“Uncle Isaac told me to make it of that; perhaps that’s what theIndians make them of. In our country they make them of yew.”
They opened the little drawers, but they were empty.
“Why don’t you keep something in these drawers?”
“I’m saving them for my tools; that is, when I get any money to buythem.”
“That reminds me,” said Fred, “that I have brought with me all themoney that the baskets sold for; and now we will settle up the affairsof our company.”
He pulled a paper from his pocket, which contained an account of thenumber of baskets he and John had made, and the result of the sale.
Charlie then took from his drawer a book, the leaves of which weremade of birch bark, in which was the account of all he had made, anddelivered to them. Part of them had been sold at the store for halfmoney and half in goods. Charlie wished to share equally, but to thatthe others would not consent, because they said that he had made thegreater part of the baskets, and also taught them the trade. Charlie’spart of the proceeds accounted to ten dollars in money, besides hiscredit at the store. He had never before, in all his life, been inpossession of so much money, and, overjoyed, ran to tell his mother.
“Now, Charlie,” said she, “do you use that money to buy things that youwant and need, and don’t go to buying pigs, and spending it for us orthe baby.”
“I’ll have a knife,” said Charlie, “at any rate, and then I shan’t haveto be all the time borrowing father’s, or using a butcher’s knife. I’llhave some tools, too, to put in my drawers; but I think I ought to helpfather pay for the island; I think it’s dreadful to pay rent.”
“Never mind that, Charlie; Ben can pay for the island fast enough.”
“Mother, you don’t know how many things I’ve thought about, whileI’ve been sitting under the old maple this summer, that I would makefor you to have in the house, when I got my money for the baskets,and could get some tools of my own. Mother, you don’t know how gladI am we have got just such a house as we have, where there’s no endof things to make, and things to do; also, a barn to build, the landto clear, and the house to finish. Now, if all this was done, therewould be no fun--nothing new to look forward to; one day would be justlike another. You couldn’t look at things after you’d made them, andsay, That is my work; I took it out of the rough; that’s mine, for Imade it; but, however nice it might look, you’d have to think it wassomebody’s else wit and grit did it. That would take all the good outof it for me. I’m sure I think more of my canoe than I should of everso nice a one that anybody made and gave me.”
“That is true, Charlie,” said Sally, delighted with sentiments so muchin accordance with her own feelings. “I’m sure, if we had sheep, andflax, and pasturage, and I had a loom, and the house full of blankets,and sheets, and nice things, all given to us, I shouldn’t be half sohappy as I am in trying to get them. I tell you, Charlie, the more youhave to do, the more you can do. There’s nothing like having somethingahead to make you work, and stick to it.”
“Yes, mother; it makes a fellow spit on his hands and hold on. I knowthat’s so; because, sometimes I want Rover to go to the woods, and hewon’t; I switch him, and he won’t; I push him, and he won’t; then I putsome acorns in my pocket
and run ahead, and he’ll get there as soon asI do.”
When he returned to the boys he said, “I’ll bet that if you do shootwith a gun better than I, that I can beat you both with a bow. I canhit a mark at twenty yards with this bow, oftener than you can atthirty with your guns. I’ll bet you the bow and arrows against twogun-flints and two charges of powder, that I do it.”
“I’ll stand you,” cried John; “I can beat you with my eyes shut. What’sthe use of talking about a bow in the same day with a gun?”
They measured the distance, and set up a mark, when, to theirastonishment, Charlie beat them both.
“You thought, John, the first time we ever saw each other,” saidCharlie, “that I had a great many things to learn; you’ll find you havesome things to learn, too.”
“I was a fool, Charlie; I believe you have forgot more than ever Iknew; but how did you learn to shoot so with a bow?”
“Why, in England, boys and men practise a great deal with a bow; andthey have shooting matches on the holidays, and give prizes to the bestmarksmen. My grandfather was a bowman in the king’s service; when hewas young they used to fight with bows and arrows. I wish you couldsee his bow and arrows, that he had in the wars; the bow was six feetlong, and the arrows would go through a man. Since I’ve been here I’vepractised a great deal, because I didn’t have money to buy powder andshot. I can shoot a coot or a squirrel with an arrow, or any kind ofsea-bird.”
“We’ll have bows, and practise,” said John.
“I’ll give you this one, and make Fred one, too. I like to make bows.”
“Thank you, Charlie; and when we get learned we’ll come on here andgive it to the squawks, and go on to Oak Island, and shoot squirrelsand woodchucks, and save our powder and shot for sea-fowl. Have we seenall your things, Charlie?”
“Not by a long chalk; look up there” (pointing up into the tree).Following the direction of his fingers, they saw in the top of the treea platform. Charlie took down a little ladder which hung on the tree,by which they ascended to its lower limbs. When they came down Johnproposed that they should camp out that night in the woods.
“I should think,” said Charlie, “it would be a great deal morecomfortable to sleep in a bed.”
“_Comfortable!_ who wants to be comfortable; we can be comfortable anytime.”
At supper John broached the matter, and asked Sally to let them havesome blankets.
“I wouldn’t do that,” said she; “you’ll get your death’s cold, and yourfolks won’t like it.”
“Let them have the clothes,” said Ben; “we’ve invited them here to havea holiday; let them spend it in their own fashion; it will taste thesweeter.”
As they passed the maple on their way to the woods, John suddenlyexclaimed, “What say, boys, for camping in the top of the tree? it willbe grand to lie there, hear the wind blow, feel the tree rock, andlisten to the surf in the night.”
“What if it should storm?” said Charlie.
“It can’t storm; see how clear it is; and the wind is north-west--yes,and west of that.”
“What if we should fall out?”
“We will lash ourselves in.”
Tying the blankets to a line, they hoisted them up. They went to thebeach, and picking up some dry eel-grass, spread it over the platformfor a bed, and covered it with the sail of Ben’s canoe.
John fastened them all in with ropes, and then fastened himself.Charlie slept in the middle; they cuddled up together, and were aswarm as toast. The trees on the island had already parted with most oftheir leaves, but the maple, standing in a sheltered spot, retained itsfoliage.
The limbs of the great tree swayed gently in the westerly breeze, andthe moonbeams came slanting through them most delightfully, as the boyslay listening to the moan of the night wind, the sound of the surfalong the shore, and watched the clouds as they coursed by the moon,all heightened by the novelty of their situation.
“I’m glad we did it,” said Charlie; “I had no idea it would be so nice.”
Fred wished he could be a bird, and always live in the tree-tops.The swaying of the branches communicated to their couch a motionexceedingly pleasant, which, rousing a long-slumbering association inCharlie’s mind, he struck up the old ditty,--
“Hushaby, baby, on the tree-top, When the wind blows the cradle will rock,” &c.
But after twelve o’clock the wind changed to south-east; cloudsobscured the moon; and, while the boys were quietly sleeping, a gustof wind struck the tree, covering them with showers of leaves, whilethe rain dashed in sheets upon their faces. Waking in alarm, they foundthemselves enveloped in midnight darkness, pelted with rain, and theircouch quivering in the gale. Covering their heads with the bed-clothes,they took counsel in the emergency. Fred and Charlie were alarmed andanxious, but John, whose spirits always rose with danger, seemed verymuch at his ease.
“What shall we do?” said Fred.
“Stay where we are,” replied John; “at any rate till the blankets wetthrough.”
But the rain came down in torrents, and it soon began to run in underand over them.
“We can’t stay here,” said Charlie; “let’s go to the house.”
“I won’t,” replied John; “Ben will laugh at us, and Sally will say,‘Didn’t I tell you so.’”
“Charlie, have you got the flint, steel, and matches?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know of any hollow tree?”
“Yes; a great big one, all dead.”
“Could you find it in the dark?”
“Yes; I can go right to it.”
They found the tree, dark as it was, for Charlie knew it stood in thecorner of the log fence, and followed the fence till he came to it.It was an enormous pine, completely dead, and with a hollow in itlarge enough to hold the whole of them. It stood among a growth of oldhemlocks, whose foliage was so dense,--the lower limbs drooping almostto the earth,--that they shed the rain, and the ground under them wasbut slightly wet.
“This is the place,” said John, in high glee; “we’ll have the hemlockto make a fire under, and the old pine for our bedroom.”
He got into the tree, and scraping some dry splinters from the insideof it, struck fire with his flint and steel, and kindled them. It wasnot John’s design to build his fire in the old pine, only to kindleit there, because it was a dry place. He now took the blazing woodup, and put it on the ground under the hemlocks, and the rest fed theflame with dry pieces torn from the inside of the pine, till they had abright blaze. By this light they stripped bark from the birches, pickedup pitch knots, and dragged dead branches, which, though wet on theoutside, the fire was now hot enough to burn. They now threw themselvesupon the ground, which was thoroughly dried by the tremendous heat.
“A maple is a beautiful tree to look at,” said John; “but give me anold hemlock for a rain-storm, and to build a fire under.”
Charlie, to whom such scenes were altogether new, was in raptures.
“I didn’t know before,” he said, “that you could make a fire in thewoods in a rain-storm. I never saw any woods till I came to thiscountry, and don’t know anything about such things as you and Fred,that have been brought up in them.”
“There are always places,” replied John, “in thick forests,--hollowtrees, the north-west side of logs, and in hollow logs, where the wetnever gets: in those places you can always find dry stuff, and, whenyou get a hot fire, wet or green wood will burn.”
“It seems so wild and independent; no dukes, and earls, and gamekeepersto watch you, but just go where you please, kill and eat. We will gosome time, and do what we were telling about,--live wild,--won’t we,John?”
“Yes; after father gets home. You get Uncle Isaac to tell you about howthe Indians do, and I will, too.”
“Yes; and I shall learn to shoot better with a gun by that time, andyou will learn to shoot with a bow. I tell you what, I like to contriveand make shifts, and get along so, better than I do to have everythingto do with, or have
everything done for me. I’m such a fool, I expect Ishall hate to give up my birch-bark sail when I get a good one.”
“So do I. Ben is the greatest for that, and so is father; you can’t geteither of them in so tight a place that they can’t get out of it. Itseems to come natural to them to contrive; they don’t have to stop andthink about it, like other folks do.”
“That’s so. The other day father was going over to the main land, andmother wanted him to look well, and she had no flat-iron to iron a fineshirt; so she wanted him to take it to your mother and get her to ironit; but he got a square glass bottle, and filled it full of hot water,and she ironed it first rate with that.”
“There’s another thing I like,” said John; “I like to go to new places;I should like to go to a strange place every day; I should like to goall over the world.”
“I don’t; when I find a place I like, I want to stay there; and thelonger I stay the better I like it; it seems as if I liked the veryground.”
“I think we’ve had a splendid time,” said Fred.
“We had a good time in the tree while it lasted, and now I don’t seehow we could have any better time than we are having here.”
“Yes,” replied John; “the ducking coming in between is just what putsthe touch on. Now let’s go to sleep in the old stub.”
They cleaned out the rotten wood, put in some brush to lie on, builtthe fire so near to it that the heat from it would keep them warm, andwere soon fast asleep. When they awoke the fire was still burning, andthe tempest had abated, though it was still raining heavily. Makingtheir way to the house, they met Ben coming in quest of them.
“I should think,” said he, “that you had crept into a hollow log, bythe looks of your jackets.”
While eating their breakfasts they detailed the night’s adventures.
“I’m glad,” said Sally, “I didn’t know you were in the top of thattree; I shouldn’t have slept a wink if I had; it must be curious fun toleave a good warm bed and sleep in the top of a tree this time of year.I don’t see what put that in your heads; that’s some of John’s work,I know. I don’t believe but, if you would own the truth, you wishedyourselves snug in bed when the squall struck.”
“You’ve been out in the rain enough for once,” said Ben; “I shan’t letyou go out again till it’s done raining. I think you had better go tobed and finish your nap.”
“We are all here together,” said Charlie, “and can’t do anything else;let’s make some baskets; ’twill be money in our pockets, for we havenone on hand; I’ve got stuff in the house all pounded.”
They made a fire in the great fireplace, and sitting around it, madebaskets, and laid new plans. At noon the weather cleared; but aftereating a hearty dinner, and the fatigue and excitement of the night’sadventure, the boys felt but little inclined to engage in anythingthat required active exertion. They lolled on the grass a while, andat length Charlie proposed that they should go a fishing. The tidesbeing very high, the water had flowed up to the fissure in the ledgewhere the brook ran over. A whole school of smelts and tom-cods, takingadvantage of this, had come up with the tide, and the mouth of thebrook was full of them. After fishing a while, Fred Williams tied hishandkerchief to four sticks, and putting some bait in it, and a stoneto sink it, fastened a line to each corner, and let it down into thewater. The smelts going in to eat the bait, he gradually drew it up,and, when almost at the surface, gave a quick jerk; but the water wasso long filtering through the handkerchief that they all swam out.
“I can fix them, I know,” said Charlie.
He got a bushel basket, and took out small pieces of the filling tomake it a little more open, put in bait, and sunk it. After the fishwere in he drew it slowly up. The basket being deep, and the fish wellto the bottom, they did not take alarm until the rim was almost atthe top of the water. Charles then jerked it out, when the water ranthrough the open basket so quickly, that, unable to escape, they werecaught. When satisfied with this sport, they selected the largest fortheir supper, and Charles gave the rest to his hens.
When they awoke the next morning the sun was shining in their faces,and coming down stairs they were astonished to find it was nineo’clock, and that Ben had eaten his breakfast, and gone to work in thewoods.
“Well, boys,” said Sally, “which do you like the best, the tree top,the pine stub, or the bed up stairs?”
“The bed up stairs is first rate,” replied John, “as you may judge bythe length of our nap; but the pine stub for me.”
As they were eating and chatting, Ben came running in for his gun,saying there was a seal in the cove.
“O, do let me shoot him!” cried John, leaping from the table.
“I’m afraid you won’t hit him; I want his skin and oil, for he’s abouncer.”
“Yes, I will; do let me fire, Ben?”
Charlie had cut a scull-hole in his canoe, so that she could be usedfor gunning.
Getting into this, John sculled towards the creature, who kept swimmingand diving. At length he fired. The water was instantly red with blood.John paddled with all his might, but the seal began to sink; catchingup a flounder-spear, he endeavored to pierce him with it, but he hadsunk out of reach. He instantly flung over the anchor, fastened an oarto it to mark the spot, and then paddled slowly back, with downcastlooks.
“You have done well, John,” said Ben, who saw he was mortified; “theywill sink when you kill them outright. If we only had Tige here hewould bring him up.”
“I will dive and get him at low water.”
At low water, John, diving down, brought up the seal. Neither of theother boys had ever seen one, except in the water. They regarded itwith great interest, and volunteered, under John’s direction, to skinit and obtain the fat, called blubber, from which a good oil is made.
“Only see, John,” cried the two boys, “if he has not got whiskers justlike a cat; and what funny legs; why, they are not legs; what are they?”
“We call them flippers,” said Ben. He then showed them that therewas a membrane between the toes of his feet, like a duck’s. His hindlegs were about as long as the thighs of a hog would be, if the legswere cut off at the gambrel joint. They cannot with these short legswalk much on the land, but are very active in the water. In the warmnights in summer they crawl out on the rocks, and lie and play, andyou may hear them growling and whining like so many dogs; they also,in the winter time, lie on the ice cakes and float about, and whenalarmed they slide into the water in an instant. When they are woundedseverely, and are in the agonies of death, they will float till thegunners can get hold of them; but if they are killed outright theysink at once. Those who shoot them generally have a spear, or hook,with which they sometimes catch them as they are going down, as Johnattempted to do. Ben also told them that the seals were so strong, thatif you took hold of one of their paws when they were half dead, theywould twist it out of your grip with such force and quickness as tobenumb the fingers. The fat or blubber of a seal lies in one sheet overthe meat, about two inches in thickness, and not at all mixed with it,as is the case with other animals.
The boys removed the skin from this mass of fat, like lard, which wasquite a difficult operation for novices, and required a great deal ofcare, that they might not cut the skin, or leave the fat upon it. Whenthe skin was removed, there lay the fat in one mass, that trembled whenthey touched it. They next removed this in strips, leaving the carcasslean, and of a dark red. They now stretched the skin tight with nailson the door of the hovel to dry, and Sally, cutting the blubber intosmall pieces, put it on the fire to render. It made excellent oil toburn in lamps, and to sell; and the skin was used in those days to makecaps, gloves, and boots for winter, also to cover trunks, and for manyother uses.
Skinning the seal, and especially talking about it, had consumed somuch time, that they determined to devote what little of the day wasleft to playing ball, especially as Charlie was very fond of the sport,and seldom had any one to play with him. They persuaded Ben to make oneof t
heir number. The island being mostly forest, they had not a verylarge place in which to play, as part of that cleared was sown withwinter rye, which had grown so much on the new, strong land, as to makeit difficult to find the ball. Thus they were limited to a piece ofground, not of great extent, near the shore. The boys had bat-sticks,but Ben preferred to use his fist, with which he sent the ball whizzingthrough the air with great velocity. At length becoming excited withthe game, he struck it with such force as to send it over the WhiteBull into the water. He then went to his work in the woods, leaving theboys to get their ball as they could. Not many moments elapsed beforethey were on board the canoe in hot pursuit. Pulling in the directionthey had seen it go, they soon discovered it bobbing up and down on abreaker in the cave on the White Bull. The cave was formed by two rockypoints, and the bottom of it was, near the shore, a smooth graniteledge; but across its mouth were ragged and broken reefs, two fathomsbeneath the surface at the lowest tides. Over these the great wavecame in, filling the whole cave with a sheet of foam. In this breakerlay the ball; when the wave curled over and broke, it would cometowards the shore and excite hope; then the recoil would carry it backagain: thus it tantalized them.
“I’ll have that ball,” said Fred, who was a splendid swimmer, and asmuch at home in the water as a fish.
“It’s impossible,” said Charlie, “till there comes a northerly wind toblow the sea down, and a calm after it; then I’ve seen it so smooth youmight go over it in a canoe, and I have been over it.”
“But I’ll swim in and get it.”
“Swim in! The moment you get into that undertow, it will hold you, andcarry you back and forth just as it is doing that ball. Why, I’ve seena mill-log get in there and stay three or four days; and so it willcarry you back and forth till you are worn out, or perish. I had rathermake you a dozen balls than you should go in there.”
“I tell you I _will_ go in there and get that ball; I’ll have a try forit, at any rate.”
“No, you won’t,” said John; “for we are the strongest party, and wewon’t _let_ you, if we have to tie you, or lay you down and pile rockson you.”
“I tell you I have a _plan_, if you would only _help_ a fellow alittle. Charlie gave me that ball, and it’s all the present I ever hadin my life; for nobody ever cared enough about me to give me anythingbefore.”
“Let’s hear your plan.”
“Can’t you row up to the surf in the canoe? I will put a line round meand go _in_; then, if it _sucks_ me _in_, you can pull me out.”
“Well, Fred, we will do that, if we can find a line strong enough.”
“I can get a new line,” said Charlie, “that was left when they riggedthe Ark.”
There was no getting into the cave by its mouth, as it was entirelyfilled by the surf; so they hauled the canoe over the rock into thecave, rowed up, and anchored as near as they dared, to look at it.Every time the surf came in, which was about once in five minutes, itswept the ball towards them, where it remained a minute or two, andthen the recoil of the wave drew it back. Fred, putting the line roundhim, flung himself into the water, which was spotted with patchesof gray froth that the wind blew from the crest of the breaker. Theresolute boy breasted the waves; but so far from being sucked in, hefound it impossible to reach the spot where the ball lay, and thesuction began, by reason of the wind, which blew directly in his face,and the sea, that, beyond the influence of the breaker, drove directlyto the shore; and, worn out with effort, he returned exhausted to theboat.
“_I_ have got a plan,” said Charlie, who, by this time, had become asmuch interested as Fred himself. “Let us make the line fast ashore,Fred sit in the stern and hold on to it, keeping his eye on the ball,and tell us where and how to row, and one or the other of us will catchit.”
“Suppose,” said John, “while he was watching the ball and us, he shouldhappen to let the line slip, or couldn’t hold it; then we should followthe ball right into the breaker.”
“We will make the end fast to the head-board of the canoe; then it_can’t_ get away, and we can have it as well as he.”
The boys now pulled up the grappling, holding the canoe stationary withtheir oars till the surf should come in to drive the ball towards them.
“Ready!” shouted Fred; “here it comes!”
“Ay, ay.”
“Ready! Give way together!”
Away shot the canoe directly to the surf.
“Ease, Charlie; pull, John; steady together; grab, Charlie! it’s rightunder the bow, on your side.”
Looking over his shoulder, Charlie caught sight of it; droppinghis oar, he strove to grasp it; but the canoe, ceasing to feel theinfluence of his oar, sheered and went over it. The next time it was onJohn’s side, but the result was the same; the canoe could not be keptstationary a moment without both oars.
“Pay out the line, Fred,” said John; “let’s go beyond it; I’ll risk thesurf.”
Fred, who needed no prompting, did as he was ordered. Familiaritywith danger had made them reckless. With set teeth and white lipsthey strained at the oars; the canoe stood almost on end, and the dinwas awful. At that moment the blade of John’s oar struck the ball;feathering[B] his oar with a jerk, he sent it skipping over the waterout of the eddy, where the wind drove it directly to the shore.
[B] Turning it edgewise.
“Haul, Fred! haul for your life!” shouted he, for the canoe was nowwithin the undertow, that set directly towards the breaker. Shippingtheir oars, they sat down in the bottom of the canoe, which now stoodalmost perpendicular, and bracing their feet against the knees that ranacross the bottom, grasped the line, and united their efforts to thoseof Fred.
“Haul and hold!” cried John; “take a turn, Charlie!”
Charlie ran the end of the line through a hole in the head-board, andtook in the slack. Slowly the canoe yielded to their efforts, as withdesperate energy, they strained at the line, and began to recede fromthe surf. All at once the line slackened in their grasp.
“It’s coming,” cried John; “haul hand over hand; the breaker is afterus.”
There came a rush and a roar; they were covered with spray, and thecanoe was half filled with water; but the surf had fallen short ofthem, and they were safe.
Trembling with excitement, and breathless with exertion, they gazedupon each other in silence as the canoe drifted back before the wind tothe beach.
“I never will play with this ball again,” said Fred, taking it from thewater; “but I will keep it just as long as I live.”
“You ought to, Fred,” said John, “for we have risked our lives to getit.”
GETTING THE BALL IN THE BREAKER.--Page 249.]
Indeed, Charles and John had done as boys often do; after giving Fredgood advice, and striving to prevent him from a perilous act, they hadinvolved him and themselves in greater danger.
“I think, John, we had better not mention this matter at home; if wedo, I’m afraid father will send you and Fred both home, and never letme have another holiday.”
“We must go to the fire; we are wet with perspiration; and if I lookas the rest of you do, they will know something is the matter, andquestion us.”
“If they do, I shall tell the truth.”
“Of course you will.”
“We might do as we did before--make a fire in the woods.”
“That’s first rate; I never thought of that.”
Youth soon recovers from fatigue; and after lying an hour stretched atfull length before a warm fire, they felt entirely rested. Thoroughlydried, and recruited by rest, they now began to feel the pressing callsof appetite.
“I’m so hungry,” said Fred; “I do wish it was supper time.”
“It is almost,” said Charlie; “and if we go home mother will hurry itup.”
Charlie Bell, The Waif of Elm Island Page 17