by Kirk Munroe
CHAPTER III.
A MUD-BESPATTERED ARRIVAL FROM CALIFORNIA.
Acting upon the suggestion contained in Elta's note, Winn lighted afire in the galley stove, and was soon enjoying its cheery warmth.When the tea was heated, he ate heartily of the supper so thoughtfullyprovided by the dear girl, and his heart grew very tender as he thoughtof her and of her unwearying love for him. "I ought to go and find herthis very minute," he said to himself; "but I must get dry first, andthere probably isn't any fire up at the house."
To while away the few minutes that he intended remaining on the raft,Winn got one of the books of exploration from a shelf in the littleafter-room, and was quickly buried in the heart of an African forest.Completely lost to his surroundings, and absorbed in tales of the wildbeasts and wilder men of the Dark Continent, the boy read on and onuntil the failing light warned him that his lamp was about to go outfor want of oil.
He yawned as he finally closed the book. "My! how sleepy I am, and howlate it must be," he said. "How the wind howls, too! It sounds as ifwe were going to have a storm. I only hope it will bring plenty ofrain and high-water. Then good-bye to home, and hurrah for the greatriver!"
By this chain of thought Winn was again reminded of Elta, and of theforgiveness he had meant to secure from her that evening. "It is toolate now, though," he said to himself. "She must have gone to bed longago, and I guess I might as well do the same; but I'll see her the veryfirst thing in the morning."
With this the tired boy blew out the expiring flame of his lamp, andtumbled into his bunk, where in another minute he was as sound asleepas ever in his life.
In the mean time the high-water for which he hoped so earnestly wasmuch nearer at hand than either he or any one else supposed. The stormnow howling through the pines had been raging for hours about thehead-waters of the creek, and the deluge of rain by which it wasaccompanied was sweeping steadily down-stream towards the great river.Even as Winn sat by the stove reading, the first of the swelling watersbegan to rise along the sides of the raft, and by the time the stormbroke overhead the _Venture_ was very nearly afloat.
Although Winn slept too soundly to be disturbed by either wind or rain,the storm awoke Major Caspar, who listened for some time to thisannouncement that the hour for setting forth on his long-projectedjourney was at hand. He had no anxiety for the safety of the raft, forhe remembered the stout cable by which he had secured it, andcongratulated himself upon the precaution thus taken. "Besides, Winnis aboard," he reflected, "and he is almost certain to rouse us allwith the joyful news the minute he finds that the raft is afloat."Thus reassuring himself, the Major turned over and went comfortably tosleep.
Elta knew nothing of the storm until morning, but hearing the rain themoment she awoke, she too recognized it as the signal for the_Venture's_ speedy departure. From her window she had heretofore beenable to see one corner of the raft; but now, peering out through thedriving rain that caused the forest depths to appear blue and dim, shecould not discover it. With a slight feeling of uneasiness, shehastily dressed, and went to Winn's door. There was no answer to herknock. She peeped in. Winn was not there, nor had the bed beenoccupied.
"He did spend the night on the raft, then, and so of course it is allright," thought the girl, greatly relieved at this discovery. "The_Venture_ must be afloat, though. I wonder if father knows it?"
Just then Major Caspar appeared, evidently prepared to face the storm.
"Well, little daughter," he said, "high-water has come at last, and thetime of our departure is at hand. I am going down to see what Winnthinks of it."
"Oh, can't I go with you, papa? I should dearly love to!" cried Elta.
"Well, I don't know," hesitated the Major. "I suppose you might if youwere rigged for it."
This permission was sufficient, and the active girl bounded away fullof glee at the prospect of a battle with the storm, and of surprisingWinn on the raft. Three minutes later she reappeared, clad in rubberboots and a water-proof cloak, the hood of which, drawn over her head,framed her face in the most bewitching manner.
The Major attempted to protect her still further with a large umbrella;but they had hardly left the house before a savage gust swooped downand gleefully rendered it useless by turning it inside out. Castingthe umbrella aside, the Major clasped Elta's hand firmly in his. Thenwith bowed heads the two pushed steadily on towards the river-bank,while the wind scattered bits of their merry laughter far and wide.
It took them but a few minutes to reach the little stream, when theirlaughter was suddenly silenced. There was the place where the_Venture_ had been put together, there was the tree to which it hadbeen so securely moored; but the raft that had grown into being andbecome a familiar sight at that point no longer occupied it, nor was itanywhere to be seen. Only a flood of turbid waters, fully two feethigher than they had been the evening before, swept over the spot, andseemed to beckon mockingly towards the great river.
"Why, the raft has gone!" exclaimed Elta, in a dismayed voice.
"'Why, the raft has gone!' exclaimed Elta"]
"It certainly has," answered the Major, grimly; "and as it cannotpossibly have floated up-stream, it must have gone towards theMississippi. I only hope that Winn managed in some way to check andhold it before it reached the big water; otherwise we may have a merryhunt for it."
While he spoke they had been hurrying to a point a short distancedown-stream, around which the creek made a bend. From here they couldcommand a view of half a mile of its course, and somewhere along thisstretch of water they hoped to see the raft safely moored. They were,however, doomed to disappointment; for as far as the eye could seethere was no sign of the missing craft. Full of conjectures andforebodings of evil they reluctantly turned back towards the house.
The mill-hands, some of whom were to have formed the crew of the_Venture_, had already discovered that it was gone. Now they weregathered at the house awaiting the Major's orders, and eagerlydiscussing the situation.
Mrs. Caspar, full of anxiety, met her husband and daughter at the opendoor, where she stood, regardless of the driving rain.
"Oh, John!" she cried, "where is Winn? What has become of the raft?Do you think anything can have happened to him?"
"Certainly not," answered the Major, reassuringly. "Nothing seriouscan have befallen the boy on board a craft like that. As to hiswhereabouts, I propose to go down to the mouth of the creek at once anddiscover them. That is, just as soon as you can give me a cup ofcoffee and a bite of breakfast, for it would be foolish to start offwithout those. But the quicker we can get ready the better. I shallgo in the skiff, and take Halma and Jan with me."
Nothing so allays anxiety as the necessity for immediate action,especially when such action is directed towards removing the cause foralarm. So Mrs. Caspar and Elta, in flying about to prepare breakfastfor the rescuing party, almost worked themselves into a state ofhopeful cheerfulness. It was only after the meal had been hastilyeaten, and the Major with his stalwart Swedes had departed, that areaction came, and the anxious fears reasserted themselves. For hoursthey could do nothing but discuss the situation, and watch for some oneto come with news. Several times during the morning Elta put on herwater-proof and went down to the mill. There, she would gaze withtroubled eyes at the ever-rising waters, until reminded that her motherneeded comforting, when she would return to the house.
On one of these occasions the girl was surprised to see a saddle-horse,bearing evidences of a hard journey, standing at the hitching-post nearthe front door. But this first surprise was as nothing to theamazement with which she beheld her mother clasped in the arms of astrange young man who was so bespattered with mud that his featureswere hardly recognizable. Mrs. Caspar was laughing and crying at thesame time, while both she and the young man were talking at once. Nearthem, and regarding this tableau with the utmost gravity, was apowerful-looking bull-dog, who would evidently be pure white whenwashed.
For a full minute Elta stood
in the doorway gazing wonderingly at thisstrange scene. Then her mother caught sight of the girl's wide-eyedbewilderment, and burst into a fit of laughter that was almosthysterical.
"It's your uncle William!" she cried, as soon as she could command hervoice. "My little brother Billy, whom I haven't seen for twelve years,and he has just come from California. Give him a kiss, dear, and tellhim how very glad we are to see him."
Then Elta was in turn embraced by the mud-bespattered young man, whogravely announced that he should never have recognized her.
"No wonder, for she was only a baby when you last saw her!" exclaimedMrs. Caspar; "and I'm sure I should never have recognized you but foryour voice. I don't know how you look even now, and I sha'n't untilyou wash your face."
"What's the matter with my face? Is it dirty?" asked the young man.
For answer Mrs. Caspar led him in front of a mirror.
"Well, I should say it was dirty! In fact, dirty is no name at all forit!" he laughed. "I believe I look about as bad as Binney Gibbs[1] didwhen he covered himself with 'mud and glory' at the same time, orrather when his mule did it for him."
"Who is Binney Gibbs?" asked both Mrs. Caspar and Elta.
"Binney? Why, he is a young fellow, about Winn's age, who went acrossthe plains with me a year ago. By-the-way, where is Winn? I want tosee the boy. And where is the Major?"
Then, as Mrs. Caspar explained the absence of her husband and son, allher anxieties returned, so that before she finished her face again worea very sober and troubled expression.
"So that is the situation, is it?" remarked the new-comer,reflectively. "I see that Winn is not behind his age in getting intoscrapes. He reminds me of another young fellow who went campmates withme on the plains, Glen Matherson--no, Eddy. No; come to think of it,his name is Elting. Well, any way, he had just such a habit of gettinginto all sorts of messes; but he always came out of each one bright andsmiling, right side up with care, and ready for the next."
"He had names enough, whoever he was," said Elta, a little coldly; forit seemed to her that this flippant young uncle was rather inclined todisparage her own dear brother. "Yes, he certainly had names to spare;but if he was half as well able to take care of himself as our Winn is,no one ever had an excuse for worrying about him."
"No, indeed!" broke in the young man, eagerly; "but I tell you he was--Why, you just ought to have seen him when--"
"Here comes father!" cried Elta, joyfully, running to throw open thedoor as she spoke.
[1] See _Campmates_, by the same Author.
