CHAPTER VI.
CHARLIE IN A SNOW SQUALL.
Charles would have been more than human if he could have rested easywithout a sail for his canoe, after seeing John’s, and sailing with himin his float. He tried a hemlock bush, but he came near filling hisboat by means of it. He didn’t like to ask Sally to weave him cloth tomake one, as she had to buy her flax and cotton, nor to ask Ben to lethim sell fish for it. He therefore set his wits to work to compass hisend. He noticed the bottom of the chairs, and asked Ben what they weremade of: he told him, of basket-stuff, and how it was made.
He cut down an ash, pounded it, and stripping it very thin, wove itinto a mat, and made a sail of it. A great deal of wind went throughit, to be sure; but then it answered a very good purpose, and saved hima deal of rowing.
At length he espied a birch-bark dish, that Uncle Isaac had made forSally to wash dishes in. He examined it very attentively, and thoughthe had at last found the right stuff; but, to his great disappointment,the bark wouldn’t run at that time of the year. Joe told him to make afire and heat the tree, when he found it would run. He obtained somelarge sheets, and made it very thin; he found some difficulty in makingthe stitches hold, as the bark was so straight-grained it would split,and let the thread out; but he found a way to remedy this, by sewingsome narrow strips of cloth with the bark at the seams and edges.He now found that he had a sail that was a great deal handsomer andlighter than the other, and that not a bit of wind could get through.Having by this time got a birch-bark fever, he made himself a hat ofit, and a box to carry his dinner in.
He continued to fish every pleasant day, and, as fast as the fish werecured, he put them in the chamber; and the larger the pile grew, themore anxious he became to add to it.
There had been a week of moderate weather for the time of year, withlight south and south-west winds, and Charles had caught a great manyfish, sailing home every afternoon as grand as you please. At lengththere was an appearance of a change in the weather. Ben thought hehad better not go; but seeing he was eager to do so, did not preventhim. It was a dead calm when Charlie rowed on to his ground, andcontinued thus till nearly noon; but the clouds hung low, and the sunwas partially hid. The fish bit well, and Charlie was too busy inhauling them in to take note of a black mass of clouds, which, havingfirst gathered in the north-east, were gradually coming down the bay,accompanied with a black mist reaching from the water to the sky, tillin an instant the wind struck with a savage shriek; the waters rolledup green and angry, and he was wrapped in a whirlwind of snow, so thickthat he not only lost sight of the island, but could not even see threetimes the length of the canoe. His first impulse was to haul up hisanchor and row for the island; but the moment he put his hand to thecable he was convinced that he could make no progress, nor even holdhis own against such a sea and wind.
There was nothing for him but to remain where he was, in the hope thatBen would come to seek him. But perils now multiplied around him; thewind, and with it the sea, increased continually. The cold becameintense; the spray flew into the canoe, which was deeply laden withfish, freezing as it came. It seemed very doubtful to him whether Bencould find him in the darkness, which, as the day drew to a close,became every moment more intense.
“Must I perish, after all,” thought the poor boy, “just as I have founda good home and kind friends?” The tears gushing from his eyes frozeupon his cold cheeks. He now recollected his mother’s last words.
“When trouble comes upon you, my child, call upon God, and he will helpyou.”
Kneeling in the bottom of the boat, he put up a fervent prayer to Godfor mercy. The flood tide now began to make, which, running against thewind, made a sharp, short sea; the canoe stood, as it were, on end, andit seemed as if every sea must break into her. He was fast giving wayto despair, when a large quantity of water came in over the bow. Rousedby the instinct that engages us to struggle for life, he threw it out.
“These fish must go overboard to lighten her,” said he, and laid hishand on one of the largest, when a faint “Halloo!” came down the wind.His stupor vanished; the blood rushed to his face; uttering a wild cryof joy, he seized the club which he used to kill the fish with, andpounded with all his might upon the head-board of the boat, at thesame time shouting loudly. He soon heard distinctly, “Boat, ahoy!”shouted, in the tones of Joe; and in a few moments the great canoe camealongside.
“God bless you, my boy! I was afraid we had lost you,” cried Ben,catching him by the shoulder, and lifting him into his lap as though hehad been thistle-down. He then wrapped him in a dry coat, and gave hima dry pair of mittens. As they had a compass, they could have hit theland by steering in a northerly direction; but they might have been agreat while doing so, without any permanent point of departure to startfrom. Ben had provided for this. In the first place, they put a goodpart of the fish into the large canoe; then, taking a large cedar buoy,which he had brought with him for the purpose, he fastened it to thecable of the canoe, and flung it overboard; then he fastened the smallcanoe to the stern of the large one; thus he had the buoy left for amark to start from.
“Now, Joe,” said Ben, “do you bring that buoy to bear south-south-west,astern, and steer north-north-east, and I’ll see if little Ben Rhinescan drive these boats through this surf.”
Joe sat in the stern, with a steering paddle, and the compass beforehim on the seat. Charlie stood in the bow of the big canoe, holdingthe end of the mooring-rope, which confined them both to the buoy. Bennow sat down to his oars, putting his feet against Joe’s for a brace.
“Let go, Charlie,” cried he, as he dipped the blades in the water, andthe boats began to move ahead. The canoe quivered beneath the strokesof the giant, as, warming up, he stretched himself to the work; and asby main strength he forced her through the sharp sea, the water cameover the bows in large quantities, but Charlie threw it out as fast asit came.
For a long time no sound was heard but the dash of waves, and the deepbreathing of Ben, like the panting of an ox. It was now fast growingdark. At length Joe said, “I believe I see something like the shade ofwoods.”
All was still again for a while, and Ben increased the force of hisstrokes.
“I see the eagle’s nest on the tall pine,” said Charlie, “and the pointof the Bull.”
“That’s what I call a good ‘land-fall,’ when you can’t see a thing,”said Joe.
They were now soon at the island, where a roaring fire, smoking supper,and joyous welcome awaited the chilled and hungry boy.
“O, mother!” said Charlie (as with a cloth dipped in warm water shewashed the frozen tears, and the white crust of salt left by the spray,from his cheek, and kissed him), “I didn’t think I should ever see youagain.”
How great a matter sometimes hinges upon a very little thing! Ben andJoe were in the thickest part of the woods, so busily at work gettingdown a tree that had lodged as not to notice the sudden change in theweather. As soon as they heard the roar of the wind they ran for thebeach. On the White Bull was a breastwork of stones that Ben had made,to stand behind and shoot ducks.
“Joe,” he cried, “get the range of that canoe over the breastwork, andkeep it, while I go and get the compass.” When he returned with thecompass, Charlie’s canoe was entirely hidden by the snow; but as Joehad not moved from the spot, they took the range over the rock, and randirectly upon him. Had it not been for this he would have perished,while they were endeavoring to find him by guess in the snow, for itwas pitch dark in an hour after they reached the island.
About eight o’clock the gale came on with tremendous fury; and asCharlie lay in his warm bed that night, and listened to the roar ofthe surf and the sough of the tempest, he drew the blankets over him,and nestling in their warm folds, lifted up his heart in gratitude tothe Being his mother had taught him to call upon in the hour of peril,and not forget in that of deliverance.
When the gale was over, the wind coming to the north, the sea fell, andit was soon smooth, and Charlie wanted to go
a-fishing.
“No, Charlie,” said Ben, “the weather is too catching; you have fishedenough for this fall.”
“But I must have my anchor.”
“Well, go and get that, and come right back; don’t take any bait, norstop to fish.”
Charlie rowed down to the fishing-ground, where he found the buoyfloating on the glassy surface of the water, with a great mass of kelp,as large as the floor of the house, fast to it; he took out his knife,and cut them off from the ropes, and watched them as they floated awaywith the tide.
Charlie thought the southerly wind would come in at twelve o’clock, andsave him the labor of rowing home; so he made his canoe fast to thebuoy, determined to wait for it. Whether it was due to the reactionconsequent upon the terrible excitement he had of late passed through,the beauty of the day, or a mingling of both, he felt deliciouslylazy; so, taking his birch-bark dinner-box from the little locker inthe stern of the canoe, he stretched himself upon the oars and seats,and with a piece of bread and butter in his fist, began to meditate.“What a strange thing the sea is!” thought he; “three days ago I layin this very spot, fastened to this very rope, in such an awful sea,expecting to sink every moment, and now it is just as smooth as glass;and where it was breaking feather white against the Bull you might nowlie right up to the rocks.”
Charlie was very different from John; he was more thoughtful; likedto be studying out and contriving something. John was more for mereexcitement and adventure.
The southerly wind now came, and Charlie began to haul in his cable;but he found that the two canoes, riding to it in the gale, had beddedit so well in the sand that he could not start it.
“I’m no notion of working to-day,” said he; “contrivance is better thanhard work.”
It was now flood tide; he pulled the canoe right over her anchor,hauled in the slack of the cable as tight as he could, and made itfast, then stretched out in the sun, and returned to his bread andbutter. As the tide made, the cable grew tighter and tighter, till atlast it began to draw the bows of the canoe down into the water; atlength it drew her down till the water was about to run in, and Charliebegan to think the anchor was under a rock, when all at once it gaveway with a jump.
“I thought you’d have to come,” said he; and, putting up his sail, hewent home before the light south-westerly wind.
Ben had said to Charles, when he went away in the morning, “I shall bein the woods when you come back, and I want you to bail out the bigcanoe, as I shall want to use her to-morrow.”
When Charles came to the beach he made his boat fast, and went to lookat the big canoe. The sea had broken into her as she lay on the beach,and there was a great deal of water in her.
“This is one of my lazy days, and I’m going to carry it out. I’ll beblest if I’ll throw all that water out.”
He went to where the sea had flung up a vast quantity of kelp in therecent gale, and drew out from the heap the largest one he could find.Perhaps some boy, who has never been on the seashore, might say, “Iwonder what kelp is.” It is an ocean plant that grows on the deepwater rocks. The roots cling to the rock, and send up stalks from tento fifteen feet in length, with a leaf or apron nearly as long as thestem, a foot wide in the middle, tapering towards each end, and ofthe color of amber. This stem, which is hollow, and filled with air,causes it to float on the surface of the water, where it is exposed tothe sun, without which it could not grow. The hollow in a large stemis about half an inch in diameter. They come to the surface about halftide, and thus are exposed a few hours while the tide is ebbing andflowing.
Charlie cut the large leaf and the root from the kelp, when he had alimber hollow stem five or six feet long. Putting one end into thecanoe, and the other into his mouth, he sucked the water through it;then putting the end down on the beach the water continued to run in asteady stream over the side of the canoe. He was contemplating his workwith great satisfaction, when, hearing the sound of oars, he looked up,and saw John doubling the eastern point.
It was impossible for Mrs. Rhines to keep John from going to the islandalone any longer, since Charles had been off alone, and he was muchlarger and stronger.
“What are you about, Charlie?”
“Making water run up hill.”
“But that is running down hill; the beach is lower than the canoe.”
“But it runs off over the side of the canoe; come and see.”
“So it does, sure enough. What makes it go up over that turn?”
“That’s just what I want to know,” said Charlie, “and I mean to know,too; but I suppose it’s the same thing that makes water come up hill ina squirt.”
“Why, the plunger in a squirt sucks it up.”
“How can it suck it up? it has not any fingers or lips to suck it orlift it; that’s only a saying; I don’t believe that.”
“Well, if you don’t believe that, how does it come up? What makes itfollow the stick in the squirt?”
“That’s what I want to know; there must be some reason. Do you supposeUncle Isaac knows? he knows most everything.”
“No; he don’t know such things; but Ben does; he can navigate a vessel,and has been to Massachusetts to school. Father asks Ben when he wantsto know things of that kind.”
“Well, I must ask him.”
“I’m sure I don’t care what makes it come; I know it does come; that’senough for me. That’s a great sail in your boat, Charlie; it’s thefirst time I ever heard of a birch-bark sail: what in the world madeyou think of making a sail of that?”
“Because I had nothing else; I made one out of basket stuff. I tell youwhat, these folks that live on islands have to set their wits at work;they haven’t a store to run to for everything they want.”
“I don’t think much of your contrivance to make water run out of aboat; only look at it; you and I could take two pails and bail it outin half the time it will be running out through that, and then we couldgo and play.”
“But we can go and play now, and let it run.”
“I never thought of that; let’s go then.”
“I must ask father first; perhaps he wants me to help him; you go askhim.”
John ran to the woods where Ben was at work, and soon came back withliberty for them to play.
“Let’s have some fun here with this water; it’s real warm and pleasanthere in the sun, and we can do lots of things.”
“What shall we do?”
“Let’s make water-works, as they do in England. They carry the watermiles and miles.”
“What do they carry it in?”
“Lead and iron pipes, and hollow logs; and they have fountains thatsend the water up in the air, ever so high.”
“Let us see how far we can carry water, Charlie.”
They had not the least trouble in procuring pipe, as there werecart-loads of kelps on the beach. They went to the heap and drew outthe longest and largest stalks they could find, and putting the smallend of one into the large end of the other; then made the joints tightwith clay, and put them under ground, and covered them up. They did notgive up till they carried the water the whole length of the beach intothe bay, and then invited Sally to come out and see it.
“Water,” said Charles, “will rise as high as the place it came from. Iam going to have a fountain.”
So he stopped up the end of the pipe with clay, and near the end wherethe water ran quite fast, he made a little hole, and put into it twoor three quills of an eagle, joined together, to make a pipe, andthe water spouted through it into the air. As the day was now fastspending, they tore up their pipes, and putting them all into thecanoe, and sucking the water through them, set them all running; andwhen Sally called them to supper the water was nearly all out of thecanoe.