Four in Camp: A Story of Summer Adventures in the New Hampshire Woods

by Ralph Henry Barbour

  CHAPTER XIX

  CONCERNS ITSELF WITH THE DANGEROUS PLIGHT OF DAN AND NELSON AND THECOURAGE OF THE LATTER

  As long as he lives Nelson will never recall that struggle throughthe angry waters without a sudden sinking of the heart. Wind and wavewere dead against him, mocking his frantic efforts at haste, buryinghim for moments at a time in ugly swirls of white-frothed water, thatblinded and confused him. In those moments which, brief as they musthave been, seemed minutes long, the monotonous sound of rushing windand splashing wave were silenced and only the stealthy swish of waterflowing over his submerged head reached him. It was pleasant, thatcalm, after the confusion of the world above, and once he found himselfgiving way to a sort of stupor. What was the use of struggling? Underthe water it was calm and peaceful; down here there was rest for tiredlimbs. Involuntarily his aching arms and legs ceased their labors,and even the swirling of water past his ears no longer came to him,and he knew that he was sinking. Then the benumbing stupor passed,fright gripped him with icy hands at his heart, he opened his mouthto cry aloud, and arose, fighting wildly, to the surface, his lungshalf filled with water. For a moment a panic held him; he fanciedunseen hands were clutching at him, striving to drag him down again tothat awful stillness, and he thrashed and struggled and shrieked atthe leaden sky. Then recollection of Dan came to him and the terrorpassed. Blinking his streaming eyes, he looked about him. Almost athand was something half submerged that at first he thought might behis companion. But as he reached it, swimming hand over hand withthe waves breaking above his head, he saw that it was only the canoetent, which, partly on account of its wooden pole and partly becausea certain amount of air was imprisoned beneath the canvas, was stillafloat. Grasping it with one hand he turned to search the water. And ashe turned fingers gripped themselves about his wrist in a feeble clutchand Dan’s face arose white and drawn beside him. The eyes were wideopen and staring, and for a moment Nelson believed that they were theeyes of a dead person. But the clutching fingers told a different tale,and as he reached across the tent and seized Dan under one armpit thestaring eyes seemed to flicker with recognition. Then the lids closedslowly, wearily over them.

  He was not dead, thought Nelson with a sudden rush of blood to hischilled heart. And then, driving before it that brief sensation ofrelief, came to him a knowledge of the hopelessness of their situation.The canoe was drifting bottom upward hundreds of feet away. No hailcame from Bob or Tom. He must keep afloat himself and sustain Dan aswell, and for aid there was only the canvas tent lashed about its poleand already half water-logged. But the feeling of panic was a thing ofthe past. Even fear had gone from him. Discouragement was left, butwith it was a determination to fight the battle to the very end and winif strength and wit could do it.

  After a moment, during which he strove merely to keep his head abovewater and regain his breath, he set about getting Dan over the tent.The latter would not hold the weight of both of them, but it mightkeep Dan up for a while. It was hard work, with the waves battlingagainst his every effort, but at last he succeeded in getting Dan’sshoulders over the bundle of canvas. Then, with a firm grasp on theother’s forearm, he let himself float. To swim was out of the question,since it would only exhaust what little strength remained to him. Thewind and waves were already bearing them along to some extent towardland. Sooner or later Bob must discover the disaster and turn back, andall that could be done was to keep afloat until he came. The minutespassed. Dan’s eyes remained closed, but the lids flickered now andthen. Once Nelson strove to wake him by calling his name, but therewas no response; and as it exhausted his breath Nelson gave it up.One thing he was thankful for during those lagging minutes, and thatwas his and Dan’s attire. The light jerseys and trunks were scarcelymore than bathing suits, and even the rubber-soled canvas shoes addedlittle to their difficulties. With something almost approaching a smilehe wondered what Mr. Carey would have done in his place, wearing theclothes which they had envied him an hour or so before.

  Presently he began to feel drowsy and longed to close his eyes for amoment, but was afraid to do so. The canvas tent lost more and moreof its buoyancy as the imprisoned air escaped, and Nelson dreaded themoment when it would no longer give him aid. It seemed at least an hoursince the overturning of the canoe and yet could have been scarcelymore than ten minutes. Time and again he strove to lift himself highenough from the water to see over the white crests, but always his viewencompassed only seething lake and dull, stormy sky. His arms and legsached. The water, warm when the involuntary bath had begun, now feltlike ice against his body, and his teeth chattered together wheneverhe opened his mouth. Dan’s face looked blue, and the fear that he woulddie before rescue arrived began to creep into Nelson’s heart. Suddenlythere came a strain on his arm and he looked and saw the end of thecanvas bundle disappearing under the water. Seizing Dan by the shoulderof his jersey, Nelson pulled the other toward him so that his head andupper part of the body lay across his chest. So, with the waves washingover them, they floated awhile, Nelson swimming slowly with legs andone arm. But it couldn’t keep up long, that sort of thing, and he knewit. And with the knowledge came a certain sensation of relief. He hadstruggled almost as long as human power was capable of; surely he haddone his duty, and now----

  His half-closed eyes suddenly opened. Surely he had heard----

  “_Coming! Don’t give up, boys!_”

  The cry now reached him plainly, borne on the rushing wind, and toldof succor near at hand. He had lost all sense of direction, nor didhe try to recognize the voice. His first sensation was one of mildannoyance. It seemed so silly to bother about rescuing him now. He wassure that Dan was drowned and sure that he had but a moment or twolonger to struggle himself. They would try to haul him into the canoe,and things would be very fussy and troublesome; he would much rather beleft alone. However, since they insisted he would do what they asked.And so he urged his weary limbs to further effort and was still afloatwith one hand gripping Dan’s arm when a boat shot alongside.

  The next thing he knew he was still rocking in the waves, as it seemed,and the dark clouds were still racing across the heavens above him.But the water had grown delightfully warm, and he felt deliciouslycomfortable. Some one, it must have been Dan, of course, said:

  “Hard on your left! All right; you’re straight for the pier!”

  It was a foolish thing for Dan to say, and Nelson closed his eyes againin an effort to puzzle out the meaning. And doing so he fell asleeponce more, and didn’t wake again until an hour later to find himselfsnug and warm in a big white bed with a sound of crackling flames inhis ears. A little bald-headed man was leaning over him holding out aspoon, and Nelson obediently opened his mouth. Some one said somethingabout supper, and the word suggested many things to him, and he closedhis eyes again and scowled his forehead and tried to think. Plainly hewas no longer in danger of drowning, for people don’t drown in beds.They had rescued him and brought him ashore, and he was--where was he?He opened his eyes and moved his head. Things were dimly familiar andhe was sure he knew the man by the hearth. And--yes, there was Bob.

  “Hello, Bob,” he whispered. He had meant to say it right out loud justto let Bob know that all was well with him, and the result surprisedand annoyed him. But Bob had heard, and he came over and put a hand onNelson’s shoulder.

  “How are you feeling, Nel?” he asked with affected cheerfulness. Nelsonconsidered a moment. Then:

  “Hungry,” he said. This time it wasn’t so much of a whisper and he wasencouraged. “Where’s Dan?” he asked.

  “In the next room. He’s--he’s all right, Nel,” was the answer. Then thelittle bald-headed man, whom Nelson didn’t know, came and took his hand.

  “Don’t talk now, my boy. Try to go to sleep. When you wake up next timeyou shall have some supper.”

  Nelson viewed him suspiciously, but the face was rather a nice faceeven if it did extend up to the back of the head, and so he closed hiseyes and forgot everything very quickly.

  La
ter he awoke again to find the room in darkness. But even as heopened his mouth to demand attention a match was scratched and the roombecame so bright that he had to blink his eyes. A nice-looking womancame and sat on the side of the bed and stirred a spoon around in ablue-and-white bowl.

  “Are you awake?” she asked. “Here’s your supper. Don’t get up, but justturn your head this way and I’ll feed it to you. It’s beef tea. Do youlike it?”

  “Yes,” answered Nelson. “Thank you.”

  It tasted terribly good, he thought, and between spoonfuls hesurreptitiously studied her face. He had seen her before, only--hecouldn’t think where.

  “Would you mind telling me your name, please?” he asked presently.

  “I’m Mrs. Carey,” she answered smilingly. “Have you forgotten me?”

  Then he remembered and understood.

  “No, ma’am,” he answered. “That is, not now. I guess I’m in your houseagain, but I don’t see how I got here, do you?”

  “Mr. Carey was watching you from the landing when your canoe wasoverturned, and he and Mr. Merrill and the skipper went out to you in aboat and brought you in. But you mustn’t talk. The doctor said so.”

  “What doctor?”

  “Dr. Ames. He came over from the mainland, where he has a cottage.”

  Nelson pondered this between mouthfuls of hot broth. Then:

  “Is Dan alive?” he asked.

  “Yes; you will see him in the morning. Now, that’s all. You are to havesome more at nine.”

  “What time is it now, please?”

  “Half past six.”

  “That’s a pretty long time, isn’t it?” he asked.

  “Oh, but you’re going to sleep now and you won’t know how long it is.I’ll turn the light down low so it won’t hurt your eyes. Is thereanything else you’d like?”

  “No ma’am, thank you. You--you won’t forget, will you?”

  “Forget----?”

  “I mean about the broth at nine o’clock,” he explained wistfully.

  “Indeed I won’t,” she answered heartily. “And I wish I could give yousome more now, but the doctor said----”

  Nelson never learned what the doctor said, for he fell asleep justthen. Later there was another brief waking spell and more hot broth.And then, in some strange way, it became morning, and the sun wasshining in the window at the foot of the bed, and the birds werecelebrating the passing of the storm. While he was still stretching hislimbs and trying to recollect things the door opened and Mr. Carey camein.

  “Well, how’s the boy, eh?” he asked. “Feeling pretty good after yourbath, are you?”

  “Fine, sir. Can I get up?”

  “Surely you can. Breakfast will be ready in half an hour. I’ll sendyour clothes up; I guess they’re dry by this time. Take your time andrest off if you feel weak. I’ll look in again presently to see howyou’re getting on.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’ll be all right. Mrs. Carey said you went out andpicked us up, and I’m very much obliged--I mean--” He paused, at a lossfor words to express what he did mean. “It sounds awfully foolish tosay you’re very much obliged to a person for saving your life, doesn’tit, sir? But I don’t know quite what to say, and----”

  “Well, well, don’t let it trouble you, my boy. What we did is what anyone would have done, and I’m mighty glad we were here to do it. Youdid a pretty plucky thing yourself, and after that our little rescuedoesn’t look like much.”

  “I guess we wouldn’t look like much if you hadn’t come along, sir,”said Nelson soberly. “We’re not likely to forget it, sir, I can tellyou that!”

  “Well, well, we won’t say anything more about it, eh? All’s well thatends well, and--er--I’ll send your clothes up.”