CHAPTER X
A BREEZE OF WIND
The hay was almost in when Frank and Harry stood one evening close underthe apex of the roof in the log barn. The crop was heavy and because thebarn was small it had been their business during the afternoon to spreadand trample down the grass Jake flung up to them. They had been workingat high pressure at one task or another since soon after daylight thatmorning, and now the confined space was very hot, though the sun waslow. Its slanting rays smote the cedar shingles above their bent heads,and the dust that rose from the grass floated about them in a cloud andclung to their dripping faces. Frank felt that the veins on his foreheadwere swollen when they paused a moment for breath, leaning on theirforks.
"I suppose we could get a couple more loads in, and there can't be morethan that," said Harry dubiously. "I wouldn't mind a great deal if thenext jumperful upset."
Frank devoutly wished it would, for he felt that he must get out intothe open air, but a few moments later they heard the plodding oxen'sfeet and the groaning of the clumsy sled. The sounds ceased abruptly andJake's voice reached them.
"Tramp it down good!" he called. "You've got to squeeze in this lot andanother."
Frank choked down the answer which rose to his lips. But the hay must begot in, and the boys fell with their forks upon the first of thecrackling grass Jake flung up to them. There seemed to be more dust init than usual, and before the jumper was half unloaded they werepanting heavily. When at last the oxen hauled the sled away they stooddoubled up knee-deep in the hay with their backs close against the roof.
"I can't see how we're to make room for the last lot," Harry gasped."Still, I guess it has to be done."
They set to work again, packing the hay into corners and stamping itdown, and his occupation reminded Frank of what he had heard aboutmining in a thin seam of coal. It seemed hotter than ever, the dust waschoking, and at every incautious move he bumped his head or shouldersagainst the beams. The last sled arrived before they were ready for it,and they crawled about half buried, dragging the grass here and therewith their hands and ramming it with their feet and knees into any oddspaces left. At length the work was finished, and wriggling toward theopening in the wall, Harry caught at the edge of it and finding afoothold on a log beneath boldly leaped down. Frank was, however, lessfortunate when he followed his companion, for some of the hay slippedaway beneath him, and, without the least intention of leaving the barnin that undignified fashion, he suddenly shot out through the hole. Hefelt the air rush past him, and then, somewhat to his astonishment,found himself on the ground, none the worse except for the jar of thefall.
"If I'd tried to do that it's very likely I'd have broken my leg," hepanted.
He sat down and threw off his hat. It was delightful to feel the breezeupon his dripping face and to be out in the fresh air again. He had beenat work for fourteen hours, and was aching all over, but that did nottrouble him. The hay was safely in, and there was some satisfaction inthe feeling that he had done his part in a heavy piece of work. Lookingabout him he noticed that the shadow of the firs had crept half acrossthe clearing, and that thin wisps of fleecy cloud were streaming byhigh above their tall black tops. Then he heard Harry speaking to hisfather.
"There's a smart southerly breeze, and the tide is running ebb," he wassaying. "What's the matter with starting for Victoria right away?"
"Haven't you done enough for to-day?" Mr. Oliver asked with a smile.
"I don't feel as fresh as I did this morning," Harry admitted. "Anyway,when we've got a fair wind and three or four hours' ebb going with us,it would be a pity not to make the most of them."
Mr. Oliver looked doubtful. "I'm anxious to get away, because, as I'vearranged to meet a man in Victoria, we'll have to take the steamerunless we can slip across very shortly. I've an idea that we may getmore wind than we'll have any use for before sun-up. Still, we could runin behind the point at Bannington's, if it was necessary."
Then Jake broke in: "If you're going, I'll get supper and pack somebread and pork along to the sloop."
Mr. Oliver assented, and an hour later they paddled off to the sloop.The dog jumped into the canoe with them, and when they got on board hequietly sat down on the floorings while Jake helped the boys to hoistthe mainsail. When they came to the jib Mr. Oliver stood up on the decklooking about him.
"I think we'd better have the smaller one," he advised.
They were ready at length, and Jake, who was to stay behind, called thedog as he was about to jump into the canoe. Harry was busy forward justthen with the mooring chain in his hand and the loose jib thrashingabout him, while the big mainboom jerked over Mr. Oliver's head as hesat at the helm. The dog, however, showed no signs of moving.
"Give him a shove," said Jake, addressing Frank. "When he gets up ondeck, pitch him in."
Frank turned toward the dog, and then stopped abruptly when it showedits teeth and growled.
"It looks as if he meant to go along," Jake remarked with a grin. "Prodhim with the boathook if he won't move."
Frank was dubious, as he imagined the dog might resent the prodding. Atthat moment Harry, who had been too busy to notice what was going on,hauled up the weather sheet of the jib.
"I'm clear," he called to his father. "I'll cant her head to lee whenyou're ready."
Mr. Oliver put the helm up as the bows swung around, and when the sloopslanted over Jake made a futile grab at the dog. Then shouting to Frank,he dropped into the canoe and clutched the rail as the sloop forgedahead, but the boy was busy with the mainsheet and did not look up. Inanother moment Jake let go. Almost immediately afterward the sloop cameround, and when she stretched away toward the mouth of the cove thecanoe dropped astern.
"Stand by your jibsheets," called Mr. Oliver. "We'll have to come roundagain."
They were very busy during the next few minutes, for the cove was narrowand the wind was blowing in. When at length they swept out into the openwater the dog crawled up to Harry and licked his hands. Harry looked athis father, who made a little sign of assent.
"I suppose he'll have to stay," he sighed. "When that dog decides ondoing anything it's wise to let him do it. Now we'll square off themainboom."
They let the sheet run until the big mainsail swung right out, and thesloop drove away, rolling viciously. Short, foam-flecked seas cametumbling after her, but as the tide was running the same way under them,lessening the resistance, very few broke angrily. Frank had learnedenough by this time, however, to realize that it would probably bedifferent when the stream turned. In the meanwhile the boat was sailingvery fast, with a little ridge of frothing water washing by on eitherside when she lifted, and a thin shower of spray blowing all over her.Now and then the great sail with the heavy boom beneath it swung upwardin an alarming fashion. Frank noticed that Mr. Oliver's eyes were gazingintently before him, and that his hands were clenched tightly upon thetiller.
"She seems rather bad to steer," he said.
"Yes," said Mr. Oliver, without looking up. "You have to be careful whenyou're running before a fresh breeze. It's remarkably easy to bring themainsail over with a bang if you let her fall off too much, and theresult of that would probably be to tear the mast out of her. It'sconsiderably worse when there's a big sea coming along behind."
Frank glanced astern. The sun had gone and the sky was strewn with ranksof hurrying clouds, while the sea was flecked with smears of white.
"Aren't you pressing her a little?" Harry asked. "She'd be easier on thehelm if we lowered the peak or tied a reef in."
"I'd like to pick up the Hootalquin reef before it's dark," answered Mr.Oliver. "I'm not sure we'll get very much farther to-night. You wanted asail, and I fancy you're going to be gratified."
During the next hour Frank had to admit that this remark was warranted.The breeze steadily freshened, and there was no doubt that the sea wasrising. It frothed in a white hillock on either side of the boat, andlittle trails of foam swirled about her deck. Frank could see that shewas overburd
ened by the sail she was carrying, but Mr. Oliver still satwith a set face at the tiller and showed no desire to leave his post. Inthe meanwhile it was getting dark. Forest and beach had faded to afaint, shadowy blur and there was only a steadily narrowing stretch offoaming water in front of them. Frank was very wet and the spray beatupon him continually. At length, when the light had almost gone, a duskypatch of something grew out of the gathering gloom ahead, and fancyingit to be a rocky point, he felt considerably relieved, because therewould be shelter behind it. A minute or two later Mr. Oliver called tothe boys.
"Get forward and ease the peak down," he ordered. "Then back the jib.We'll tie two reefs in."
"Aren't we going in here?" Harry asked.
His father shook his head. "No, it's too dark. I could take her throughin the daylight, but there are one or two rocks in the channel. We'llhave to try for Bannington's."
Frank felt a twinge of disappointment. Bannington's was still a good wayoff, and it seemed to him that the gale was increasing every moment. Hescrambled forward with Harry, however, and when they loosened the ropethe tall peak of the sail swung down. Soon after they had done this Mr.Oliver put down his helm, causing the mainboom to jerk and thrash to andfro furiously, while as the boat came up head to wind a white sea struckher side and foamed on board her.
"Handy with the throat!" shouted Mr. Oliver. "I don't want to leave thehelm."
They slacked another rope, making the gaff sink farther down, afterwhich they tied up about a yard of the inner bottom corner of the sailto the foot of the mast. This was comparatively easy, but it wasdifferent when, standing in the water on the lee deck, they grabbed thetackle beneath the boom and endeavored to pull the leach, or outer edge,of the mainsail down. It would not come, and the heavy spar struck themas it jerked in board, flinging Frank off into the well.
"Get another pull on your topping lift," ordered Mr. Oliver.
They jumped forward to do it, but it proved no easy task, for they hadto raise the outer end of the heavy boom. They were struggling with thetackle again when Mr. Oliver laid both hands on the rope.
"Now," he shouted, "heave, and bowse her down!"
They succeeded this time, and afterward hung out over the water whilethey knotted the reef-points beneath the spar. Then when they hadtrimmed the jib over Mr. Oliver put up his helm and the sloop drove onagain into the darkness with shortened sail.
The boys sat down as far under the side deck as they could get, out ofthe worst of the spray, with the dog crouching in the water which washedabout the floorings at their feet.
"Why didn't your father help us more than he did?" Frank askedpresently.
"He couldn't leave the tiller for more than a moment or two," saidHarry. "When Jake and I reefed her the day we took you off the steamerthere wasn't as much wind. Of course, there are boats in which you canlash the helm, but that's not always possible. If dad had let go thetiller she'd have fallen off and started sailing, which would havedragged the tackle from our hands or pitched us in, and then she'd havecome up again banging and shaking. He kept her heading so that themainsail was lifting slack with no weight in it."
Frank was commencing to realize that the handling of a sailboat wasrather a fine art. It is as much of a machine as a steamer, but it isalso of the kind whose efficiency depends directly upon the human eye,hand and brain. Man has evolved a number of such instruments, and in theright hands they are far more wonderful than the others. Any one, forinstance, can learn the pianola, but to extract fine music from aCremona violin is a very different matter.
It blew steadily harder, and there was, as Frank noticed, a differencein the sea, for the flood stream was now setting up against them andwas growing shorter and more turbulent. There was a smaller intervalbetween the waves, which seemed to become steeper and less regular. Theycurled over and broke about the boat with a sound that reactedunpleasantly upon Frank's nerves, and he was thankful that he could,after all, see very little of them. The sloop's motion also changed. Onemoment she seemed to be moving almost slowly, and the next she swung upin a quick, savage rush, with her bows in the air and the white foamboiling high about her. Sometimes, too, there was a thud and a splashastern, and the decks were swept by a deluge of seething water.
In the meanwhile the boys had contrived to light a lamp in a little boxwhich held a compass, and they laid it on the thwart before Mr. Oliver,though, as he explained in a word or two, it was particularly difficultto steer an exact course in a sea of that kind. It was on the boat'squarter, that is, she was traveling with the wind almost behind her at along slant across the course of the waves, but each time an extra bigwave foamed up astern Mr. Oliver let her fall off and run right downwind with it to prevent its breaking on board.
Frank wondered how he did it, for the seas were following them and itwas quite dark, but Mr. Oliver had no need to look around. He had forguides the sound of the oncoming seas, the pull of the tiller, and themotion of the boat, and, besides, from long experience his brain workedsub-consciously. He did not pause to consider when the bows climbed outand the stern sank down in a rush of foam, and had he done so, in allprobability he would have brought the big mainboom smashing over. To runa fore-and-aft rigged craft, and a sloop in particular, before a badlybreaking sea, is a difficult and somewhat perilous thing, and theability to do it comes only from long acquaintance with the water, and,perhaps, from something in the helmsman's nature.
The boat sped on furiously, though they presently lowered the peak downto reduce the sail further, and by degrees Frank became conscious of anunpleasant nervous tension that seemed to sap away his hardihood. Therewas nothing to do in the meanwhile, but he felt that if he were calledupon for any difficult or hazardous service he would find himselfincapable of it. He was drenched and shivering, and he did not want tomove. He only wished to cower beside Harry under the partial shelter ofthe coaming. This was, however, a feeling that other folks occasionallyexperience who go to sea in small vessels, which they have to grapplewith and overcome. It is when there is no particular call on him, and hecan only stand by and watch, that terror gets its strongest hold on theheart of a man.
At length Mr. Oliver called to the boys. "We must be close abreast ofBannington's," he said. "The end of the point should be to leeward. Getforward, Harry, where you can see out beneath the jib."
Frank followed his companion as he crawled up on the little deck. He didnot want to seem afraid, but he held on tight with one hand when theyknelt in the water that splashed about them. He could see the frothyseas beneath the black curve of the jib, but for what seemed a very longwhile there was nothing else. Then Harry suddenly raised his voice.
"Point's right ahead!" he sang out, and the next moment jumped to hisfeet. "There's a black patch a little to weather."
"Up peak for your lives!" cried Mr. Oliver.
He left the helm with a bound, and all three struggled desperately witha rope, while as the bagged mainsail extended and straightened out a seabroke on board the boat. Then they floundered aft and dragged in themainsheet with all their might, after which Mr. Oliver jumped for thehelm again, while the boys flattened in the jib.
"We're the wrong side of the point," gasped Harry. "I'm not sure she'llbeat round it."
There was no difficulty in imagining what was likely to happen if shefailed to do so, and Frank, who did not think she would last long if shewashed up among the boulders before the sea that was running, clung tothe coaming in a state of tense suspense. What seemed to be a continuoussheet of spray whirled about him, the boat slanted over at an alarmingangle with half her lee deck in the sea, and the tops of the confusedbreaking waves through which she plunged washed all over her. This wassailing with a vengeance, and a very different thing from lounging atthe tiller while she swung smoothly across the water before a fair wind.She was now thrashing to windward for her life, with the full weight ofthe sea on her weather bow and a foam-swept reef lying in wait close tolee of her, and whether she would claw off it or not depended largely
upon her helmsman's skill.
Frank could see him dimly, a black shape gripping the tiller, and he wasunpleasantly aware of the fact that there would speedily be an end ofthem all if he lost his nerve for a moment or made a blunder. It happensnow and then at sea that the safety of crew and vessel hangs upon thebrute strength of human muscle and the simple valor which enables a manto do what is required of him on the moment without flinching; emptyassurance and a consequential air are of uncommonly little service then.Such occasions are a very grim test of manhood, and, as a rule, it isnot the loud talker who best stands that strain.
Frank admitted afterward that he was badly scared, which was not in theleast unnatural. It was more important that he should neverthelessrealize that it was his business to trim the jib over when this wasnecessary. His companion, who was gazing to leeward, presently raisedhis voice.
"Broken water close ahead," he announced.
"Stand by your jib!" shouted Mr. Oliver. "We must try to heave heraround."
Frank let the lee sheet run, groping deep in the water for it as Mr.Oliver put down the helm, and with a frantic thrashing of canvas thesloop came up into the wind. There was a moment of suspense during whichshe seemed to stop, and the boy felt his heart thumping furiously. Heknew that if she fell off again on the previous tack nothing could saveher from going ashore. Suddenly he heard Harry call to him.
"Haul it up!" he shouted. "We have to box her off."
Frank hauled with all his might, and the thrashing of the head sailceased. It caught the wind, and a sea fell upon the boat as the bowsswung around. Then they jumped to the opposite side of her and struggleddesperately to haul the lee sheet in as she forged ahead again, afterwhich there was nothing to do but wait and wonder if she was driving intoward the shore or working out toward open water. They stood on forhalf an hour, seeing nothing, and then came round half-swamped, only tostagger away on the opposite tack, running once more into horriblybroken water. As they did so Harry shouted that there were boulders, theend of the point, he fancied, close to lee.
"She won't come about in the rabble," said Mr. Oliver.
It was evident that they must now either scrape around the point on thattack or go ashore, and Frank felt his nerves tingle as he gazed into thespray. He fancied that there was something black and solid beyond it,but could distinguish nothing further. Then the blackness faded, the seaseemed to become a little more regular, and Harry cried out hoarsely,"We're round!"
"Down peak!" called Mr. Oliver. "We'll have to jibe her."
Frank had learned that to jibe a boat is to turn her around stern towind, instead of head-on, which is the usual way, and scrambling forwardwith Harry he helped lower the peak. After that they again flounderedaft, leaving the mainsail reduced in size, and grabbed the sheet as Mr.Oliver put up his helm. The bows swung around as the boat went up with asea, and the big boom tilted high up into the darkness above the boys.They struggled savagely with the sheet, which slightly restrained it,until the boat rolled suddenly down upon her side as the sail jerkedover and the rope was torn swiftly through their hands. There was acrash and a bang, and Frank was conscious that the water was pouringover the coaming. He clung to the sheet, however, and while Mr. Oliverhelped them with one hand they got a little of it in, after which thesloop, rising somewhat, drove forward. A few minutes later the seasuddenly became smoother, the wind seemed cut off, and Frank made out ablack mass of rock rising close above them. They ran on beneath it untilMr. Oliver, rounding the boat up, bade them pitch the anchor over.