CHAPTER VI
THE BATTLE OF BOSTON
"We're stuck!" declared Jack, as they tried to shove off from the banknow said to be England.
"And every time I push the water comes up over my shoes," said George,looking dolefully at his soaked shoes and stockings.
"Let's pull them off and fling them over on the bank," suggested Jack.
George, forgetting he was not on dry ground, instantly followed Jack'sidea and sat down on the raft to remove his shoes. At the same time, Jimtried to climb aboard from the creek where he had been pushing, and theresult was that the water swept over the top surface of the raft andsubmerged everything under six inches of water.
"Ah, say! See what you did to me!" cried George, now soaking wet to thewaistline.
"Quick! Never mind the wet--there go our tea chests!" yelled Jack, tryingto save the drum as it floated away from the raft.
Jim and George, over-anxious to save their cargo, suddenly leaned out tocatch the bobbing cartons and boxes, when the unbalanced raft tiltedtreacherously over with the weight of the three boys and shot them allinto the stream.
The screams and shouts of dismay brought the three Americans running tothe Boston port, and as they stood laughing unfeelingly at the scene inthe water, the British declared they'd get even when they landed inBoston.
"Better get here first!" called Anne.
"We'll salute you with guns all right!" added John grimly.
"So'll we! We'll go back to London and find some guns and shot, too,"promised George, looking at the Americans and then at Jack, who waswallowing through the mud to gain the bank again.
"Jim, haul up your ship for us to load with ammunition," ordered George,as soon as Jim's head appeared from under the raft, where he had rolledwhen the warship keeled over.
But the clever Yanks kept all news of their ammunition from the eyes andears of the British. Then, having found some long sticks that wouldanswer for guns, the three mariners set sail again on their dangerousjourney across the sea--a distance of thirty feet from bank to bank.
This time the raft was kept balanced, while the three stood hugging eachother in the center of the boards. Their shoes and coats had been lefton the woodpile, so they were not hampered with overmuch clothing.
Now, John had bided his time very patiently, and, feeling that he hadbeen supplanted in the fun and affections of George by his cousin Jack,he determined not to wait till the ship came into port, when the boyscould jump from the vessel, to land and find the pyramid of bad applesready to fire.
So he waited until the loosely-constructed raft reached midstream, wherethe current of the sluggish water turned it partially around so that theboys faced back at England, and dared not turn about for fear of anothersubmersion.
Taking careful aim, John threw a large and wonderfully squashy apple atJack. It landed on top of his head, and the juicy, brown contents of theapple-skin ran down over his face, ears and neck.
"Ouch! What's that?" screamed Jack, the acid of the juice blinding hiseyes. He threw out his hands for help as he cried, and thus catchingJim, both slid off the raft a second time, as the craft went under onthat side.
George could afford to laugh at the sight, for he still held his footingon the wet and slippery raft; but he laughed too soon. John took anotheraim and fired a second shot. It hit the boards of the raft just back ofGeorge, who was not aware of it, as it simply squashed all over withoutmaking a noise.
He moved back a trifle to gain a surer footing, and that action was hisown undoing. His foot slipped on the slippery mush, and down he cameupon the planks. Again the tipsy raft dove, and again George slid offinto the stream.
The middle of the stream was swollen by the rains to a depth of fourfeet, and Jim only being three feet high, could not be seen, but hecould paddle a bit with legs and arms in poor imitation of swimming, soGeorge and Jack found him wildly kicking and striking the water in avain endeavor to float.
John doubled over in glee at his marksmanship, and the two girls,running to see what the new commotion was about, saw the three boys inthe creek, trying to board the raft. With every pull and extra weight onthe warship, it dipped gracefully and slipped the children's eager,clutching hands from its edges.
"You'll have to wade back to England and sail again," yelled Johncomfortingly.
"You just wait till we get over there!" threatened Jack, who suspectedthe power back of that apple.
"We'll wait all right! Long time comin', too!" roared John, slapping hisknees.
While Jack pulled Jim to shallow water, George managed to haul the nowwater-logged raft back to the English shore. The pasteboard cartons anddrum were thoroughly soaked by this time and showed signs of collapse,but the soap-box withstood the elements in a fine manner.
During the third trial to cross the tempestuous seas, the cartonsholding oatmeal and hominy spread out and the cereals floated down onthe face of the creek. The pasteboard sides, now flattened out andsoaked, were of no use, so they were kicked off; but in the suddenjerking Jack and George clutched each other madly, or they would haveslid into the water for the third time.
"I guess Boston will never get a speck of that cargo!" laughed John,both hands behind his back holding large-sized decayed cannon-balls fromthe apple tree.
"What'll you bet?" challenged Jack.
"Bet you three shots to your every one that you won't land it!" tauntedJohn.
"Take you up! If we land anything we take three shots at you. If youkeep us from landing, you have three at us," cried George, the fire ofbattle shining in his eyes.
"Here, John, you wade out and upset them," whispered Anne mischievously.
"They won't count that as fair!" exclaimed Martha.
"I've got a better idea. I'll get up on that tree-trunk leaning out overthe creek and you girls can hand me some heavy clumps of dirt, wood orrocks. I'll drop it over on the raft so it will tip and roll off therest of the cargo," whispered John.
The three sailors were fully occupied in balancing and bringing the raftacross the stream where it should go, so they failed to see John scalethe overhanging willow tree and lean down to get the rocks and fragmentsof tree-trunks the girls passed up to him. Not until a stone fell uponthe side of the raft where the remaining boxes stood did they dream ofdanger from a fort.
"Ah, say, that isn't fair!" complained Jack, not daring to look up oraround.
"All's fair in play!" laughed Anne from the bank.
A second rock landed on the edge of the raft, and then a mass of dirtand dead leaves. After this, the girls assisted in the fusillade, andthe boys were not only kept busy avoiding the ammunition of theAmericans; but they found the raft tilting so dangerously that anotheradded bit of weight would roll the single remaining soap-box from theship.
"Jack, it's dare or die!" said George, nodding to the debris thrown onthe raft and the slant of the ship under water.
"What do you say?" wondered Jack.
"Jim's the lightest--he must take the soap-box and try to reach shorewith it while we fight them for a landing out here. If they go for Jim,we can land, and if they keep up with us Jim can scramble up the bank."
Jim was willing, and Jack thought it was a fighting chance, so thecaptain of the _Dartmouth_ sidled off into the water and grabbed the boxwhich he had to safely carry up on shore--in the face of the Americancannonading.
Had the creek been clear of mud and roots, the British might have landedtheir sea forces, and thus the history of the American colonists mightnever have been written as such; but which one of the combating partiescould dream of the unseen menace that took a part in this tragic fight?
The two girls and John saw Jim slide off and push the soap-box in frontof him, but they felt a sympathy for him, for it was apparent that Jackand George preferred to remain on the raft and let Jim try to land. Thenthey would claim the right to fire three shots to one at the Americans.
But the three Americans determined to fire as many of the soft apples atthe two remaining sa
ilors as they could land, so Jack and George werekept busy ducking and objecting, and Jim had gone half the distancebetween the raft and the gnarled root, where he hoped to climb up, whena blood-curdling yell was heard, which seemed to rise from his verytoes.
British and Yanks alike forgot their enmity and shouted out: "What'shappened, Jim?"
But the little pickaninny, beating the water frantically with bothhands, while continuing to howl, tried to jump up from the water.
Jack and George, too wet to mind more water, and John, with the twogirls on shore, rushed for the captain to try and save him, for theyfirmly believed he was about to yell his last earthly breath.
Jack and George reached him first, and instantly caught his wildlywaving arms to drag him up on shore. They thought that if it was histime to "climb the golden stairs" he was always singing about, he oughtto begin on dry land.
But Jim's yells grew more appalling as he was half-carried andhalf-dragged out of the water. Just as John and his two confederates ranup, the cause of all this frenzy was found.
A huge mud-turtle had snapped onto one of Jim's brown, upcurling toes,and as resistance was brought to bear against this grip, the turtle heldon the tighter.
George knew what to do, so he quickly broke its shell with a sharpstone, and Jim almost fainted with relief at his freedom. The girlstried to pet him and offer sympathies, but Jack and George tookadvantage of the situation.
"Ha! We brought meat to shore! We landed all right!" yelled Jack,dancing like a wild Indian.
"Three-to-one shot," added George, rushing away to find the ammunitionJohn had plied so thickly.
But most of the apples had been fired, and Jim whispered: "Ah wan' t' gohum!"
"Ah, don't go home now! Your toe will soon feel better, and besides,mammy will ask you where the boxes went from the store-room," advisedMartha.
Jim looked up at her wistfully and said: "Ah'll tell her dem Britishsunk 'em all!"
"That would be mixin' American history, 'cause it was us Yanks that sunkthe cargo," corrected Anne.
"All but the fish!" chuckled Jack, pointing at the turtle.
"If Jim can't go home, and you girls won't let us shoot as you agreed,what shall we do, anyway?" sulked George, who felt it was an unluckyday, because no more apples could be found.
"Why not play the Battle of Lexington? That's fun!" suggested Martha.
"We can use the raft to sail up Lake Champlain, where it can be thefirst warship of the American navy," added Anne.
"All right--come on!" declared John, who was glad to postpone his beingshot at by two good aims like George and Jack.
"Here, or on the other side?" asked George.
"Well, here's a good tree for the earthworks on the hill near Boston,"ventured John.
"We won't need it for Lexington or Concord, but we really ought to havesomething that would pop like shot, or it won't seem real," replied Jackconsideringly.
"Can't we skip those two first fights, and start right in with theburning of Charlestown and the fight on the hill? We can build a dandybonfire for Charlestown," said Anne.
"Umm! Never again! We had a fire once when Washington's homestead burneddown, and Jim's just raisin' a new crop of wool since then. My hair wasfrizzled to the roots, too, and our eyebrows were all gone. We lookedawfully funny without winkers on our eyes or brows over them," laughedGeorge, the memory of his burns too fresh to attempt a second fire evenin play.
"Then we can't do it! We may as well go home and wait for the automobileto come back," said Martha resignedly.
"I don't see why. We can build earthworks and fight down the British asthey come up the hill, and then the British can win the battle and fightus all the way back to Charlestown; and General Washington can comealong and pat us on the back for courage and bravery, and then we canall plan together how to get back at the British," exclaimed Georgeeagerly.
"I'm wet and soggy, and Jim's going to cry all afternoon, so I guessI'll go back and change my clothes," said Jack, suddenly feelingdiscouraged over the failure of his nation to win an easy battle.
"If we keep away from the store-room, and creep up the front stairs tochange our clothes, we can be sitting on the lawn under the canopy whenmother gets back," ventured Martha.
"What about Jim?" worried several voices.
"Let John take him home and dry his clothes, then they both can join uson the lawn, and sit quietly while the sun sets. Mother says she wantsus to watch the fall sunsets, as they are always so beautiful," offeredGeorge.
The others stared in unbelief at this daring commander, who suggestedquietly admiring sunsets, but each felt that it would be as well to seemmeek and quiet after the raid on the boxes in the store-room.
So the good advice was followed, but Martha did not dream that Jim haddumped the washing-soda over the orange pekoe tea, so that it wasimpossible to sift or wash it out. Hence, the Parkes had no tea thatafternoon, nor, did the cook have her fragrant beverage at each mealuntil the new chest came from Washington.
"Well, didn't the Yanks sacrifice tea to their patriotism that time inBoston?" asked Jack of his mother, when the story was told.
The Little Washington's Relatives Page 6