CHAPTER XIII LIGHT ON THE WATER
"My island home," the girl said musingly. "How can I tell you about it sothat you will love it as I do?
"This is Isle Royale." She spread her arms wide as if to gather its milesof wide expanse into one embrace. "Beautiful bays and tiny lakes wherethe loon and the wild duck come to build their nests.
"A hundred enchanted islands where gulls soar and scream at sundown,where the sea hawk soars above you to complain in his shrill voice ofyour intrusion.
"Deep dark pools beside the shelving rocks where black shadows play andspotted trout dart away.
"This is Isle Royale." Her eyes were dreamy as she stared at the fire,that petite, vivacious little lady, Berley Todd. "This is the place whereI have always played my summer away.
"And to think--" Her tone changed. "To think that those men might havekilled me. Then I would have played no more.
"To think," she mused, "never again to feel the lift of my boat as Idanced along in Tobin's Harbor or out on the open lake. Never again toskim along before a gentle gale. Never to climb the low mountains andlook away, away, away to where the blue begins!
"You know," her tone became confidential, "we were always children onthis island. Sometimes we'd take blankets and a grub box, boys and girlstogether, four, six, ten, a dozen of us, and tramp away to the top ofMount Franklin. There, beside a fire on the rocks, we watched thetwilight fade and counted the stars as they came out one by one.
"Then, rolling up in our blankets, we slept beneath those stars. Playingall summer long. Don't you love to play?"
"I don't know," said Red slowly.
"But you have played! Football. You play football. That's a game."
"Is it?" He smiled a curious smile. "Well, perhaps. But it's work, too,if you win. You have to keep everlastingly at it. And the thing you keepeverlastingly at is pretty sure to seem like work.
"Play," he mused, "play all summer. Play all winter would be good enoughfor me." Football had taken its toll of his young life. He was weary,desperately weary; not the weariness that comes from a day of sudden,arduous toil, to be dispelled by a night's repose, but the dull,dragged-out weariness experienced by an Arctic dog team after a fivehundred mile trek over the frozen snow.
"Tell me," the girl demanded suddenly, "what do you like?"
"What do I like?" Red spoke slowly. "I can't tell you that. I can onlytell you what I have liked in the past."
"Tell me." She laid her hand on his arm.
"This," he said slowly, as if recalling some scene in the remote past,"this is what I have liked: to stand before an open hearth in the steelmill where twenty tons of scrap-iron, together with limestone andtungsten, boil at white heat; to reach in a long ladle and sample it asthe New England farmer samples his maple syrup; to watch the sample cool,to crack it with a hammer, to study its gleam; to do this again and againuntil at last you make a motion that says, 'The batch is done.'
"Then to throw a lever and watch that white hot metal, twenty tons of it,pour into a massive brick-lined pot of steel that hangs suspended from acrane.
"Then--" He paused to take a long breath. The girl was staring at himwith all her eyes. "Then to stand beneath that twenty tons of moltensteel and make the gesture that sets flat cars in motion, flat carsloaded with forms to receive the steel. Then to watch the white hot steelpour once more; to follow its course until the forms have been lifted offand the billets of steel stand, red hot, sizzling in the snow, row onrow."
He looked at her as if uncertain whether or not to go on.
"Yes--yes. Please?" whispered Berley Todd.
"To climb a steel stairway--" He took a fresh start. "To seize a leverthat swings a crane. To lift a red hot billet of steel into its placebefore heavy steel rollers, then to lift it and toss it, to turn it andbump it, to roll it here and roll it there, to press it and cut it, thenslide it to one side, a long, perfect steel rail over which rich andpoor, presidents and princes may ride in safety. That," he ended, "hasseemed to me a very large sample of life."
"Oh!" she breathed. And again, "Oh!"
She said never a word. For all that, he sensed the fact that she hadgrasped the meaning of all this and was glad.
"You'll go back to that," she said after a time.
"When studies and football are things of the past. I hope so."
"But you'll learn to love my island just a little, won't you? And youwill come back here when summer has come and the loons are nesting inTobin's Harbor?" There was pleading in her voice. She loved Isle Royale.How could others fail to love it?
"I feel," said Red with a curious smile, "I sort of feel that I willcome, too.
"But look!" He sprang to his feet. "The clouds are here. The moon hasvanished. Time to be going!"
He did not now say: "Where shall we go?" He knew they were to row up thebay half a mile, then climb over a ridge to her family's summer home. Hewas more than eager to reach that home. Curiosity regarding that homeentered into that desire. But more than that was the feeling that thereshe would know of many places of hiding. And hide they must until theycould leave the island.
"I'll bring the boat around." He vanished into the outer darkness.
Closing the door softly behind her, Berley Todd stepped out upon theshort platform which served both as doorstep and dock. What emotionsurged through her being as she stood alone there in the dark? Only shecould answer that.
Soon came the low dip-dip of oars, and they were away.
"We'd better cross straight over," she said in a low tone. "Then we canfollow the shore. We'll come at last to a small landing. Better try tokeep in the shadows if the moon comes out."
That this was wise counsel he was soon enough to know.
Just as they reached the opposite shore the moon, breaking through theclouds, painted the channel with a million spangles of silver.
Swinging the boat about quickly, Red drew it into the shadow of anoverhanging cedar.
Resting there for a moment, they allowed their eyes to wander back.There, lighted up by the silver moon was the cabin that had offered themsanctuary for a day. Would they ever forget it? How could they?
And who would wish to forget so lovely a picture? Great spruce treestowered toward the sky. Half hidden by the lesser growth of birch andbalsam, the cabins stood. There were three in all, yet in this uncertainlight they seemed but one.
"It is one of the loveliest spots on earth!" The girl took one long deepbreath that came near being a sob. "It is so beautiful it seems like adream. Like a southern home beside a river in a moving picture.
"A man built it years ago. He built into it all his love for nature andthe great out-of-doors. He had planned it that those he loved might behappy there. And they have been very, very happy.
"Wouldn't this world be wonderful if all men were like that? If we livedfor others more than for ourselves? If no one were greedy or ambitiousfor power? If we all lived the life God has given us for the pure joy ofliving?" Then again she murmured, "It's like some southern home." Hervoice trailed off into silence.
Then, after a moment, she began again, only this time she was singing,singing so softly that she would not waken a sleeping bird:
"Carry me back to old Virginia, The place where I was born."
And then, as if the island home were but a beautiful dream, the moonlightfaded, leaving all in darkness.
Once again Red Rodgers took up the oars and they glided onward over thedark mysterious waters of the night.
It was strange, this passing on and on into the unknown. Water and airseemed to meet. Did they ride in air or on water? What could it matter?
Only the rough outline of tree tops served to guide him. Off to the righta tiny island loomed for a time, then faded into the night.
Before them some wild creature swam. Was it duck or beaver? Who couldsay? Nothing appeared to matter. All was swallowed up in the mystery ofthe night.
Then, by a sudden flas
h of light, all was changed.
"There!" the girl whispered. "There, to the left, is the dock!"
A moment more and they glided silently alongside the narrow platform.
"Tie up here." The girl stepped from the boat.
Until this time they had not flashed a light. Why did the girl flashRed's light now? Who can say? She did throw it on for a second. Instantlya low cry escaped her lips.
"Look! Footprints!" Dismay was registered in her tone. "They--they havegone before us!"
It was true that the narrow circle of light revealed the prints of a verylarge boot in the snow. To the right of the dock a boat was tied.
The girl snapped off the light. For a moment they stood there in silenceside by side, a moment only, then the girl gripped Red's arm until ithurt.
"Look! Look! Light on the water! They are behind us and before!"
Some distance away, on the black surface of the water a pale light shone.
"Come!" she whispered. "I know a hundred hiding places! We can bestescape them here!" She led him to the foot of the hill, then began toclimb, leaving him to follow in the dark as best he could.