CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
UGLY VOLUNTEERS--OUR FRESH TUTE TO THE RESCUE!
"Poor old Robinson Crusoe! poor old Robinson Crusoe! They made him a coat of an old nanny-goat: I wonder how they could do so! With a ring a ting tang, and a ring a ting tang, Poor old Robinson Crusoe." _Mother Goose_.
The storm broke before morning, and a clear fresh September day openedon us castaways. There was no exertion of ours that could get us home,for our little cutter was a complete wreck, and we had but one of themany requisites for constructing a boat or raft--it consisted of the fewplanks and timbers of the wreck of the boat which still held together orhad been washed upon the beach, and which, if we were not rescued beforeanother morning, must be employed in feeding our fire. All theprovisions we had taken with us on our day's voyage were consumed,except one loaf of bread and two pies, but a sufficient supply of thefish had been brought from the cutter to feed us for several meals. Ofwater--the greatest necessity--there was not a drop on Boatswain'sHalf-Acre. During the morning, the want of that became a pain, andbefore night any one of us would have given all he possessed for asingle glass of cold water. Captain Mugford told us that now, for thefourth time in his life, he knew the suffering of thirst.
We must wait to be discovered, to be rescued, and before that we _mightdie_ of thirst, for our island was only a low rock, and vessels going upand down channel kept generally too far from the reef to allow us to beseen by them on board. We could see our cape, and even the old house,but had no way of making signals, except by the fire at night.
Beautiful as was the day, it was one only of pain and anxiety to us. Ofthe few sails we saw, not one came within three miles of us. Wherecould Mr Clare be all this time?
The sea fell so fast that by two o'clock in the afternoon it was smoothas a lake. Harry Higginson and I sat looking at it on a point of thereef, with Ugly by our side. Ugly's tongue hung dry from his mouth, andhe panted for a drop of water, but he was pained, too, I am sure,because of our silence and dejection. Watching our faces, as ifwondering what he could do for us, he at length walked down to thewaterline and looked across to the cape with a long whine. Then he ranback and put his paws on Harry's knee, as if he would have him saysomething. So Harry patted his head and said, "Yes, old boy, I wish wecould get there."
He sprang down again and commenced to bark, pointing his nose towardsthe cape.
I called to him, "Don't be a fool, Ugly; your little bark can't reachthem."
He cried and ran back to Harry, but in a second more, barking like fury,he ran to the water and swam off in the direction of our home.
We called to him again and again, entreating and commanding his return;but he paid no attention to us, and swam on. We were filled with sorrowand alarm, for surely little Ugly could not swim that distance--overthree miles. We called to the Captain and the boys, and in a fewminutes we were all standing watching the progress of brave Ugly.
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What was going on at the cape all this time?
Mr Clare did not return on Saturday, and as night set in without ourappearance, Clump and Juno got anxious. Having, however, greatconfidence in the Captain's care and skill, they were not so muchalarmed as they might have been, supposing that he, seeing theapproaching gale, had made some harbour, and that there we should stayuntil the weather changed. For some reason, both Clump and Junosupposed we had gone to the westward. That shore was broken by severalbays and small rivers, and eleven miles westward was the fishing-villageof ---. Nevertheless, the good old people were somewhat alarmed, andsat up all night over their kitchen fire.
By ten o'clock of the next day their fears had grown too troublesome toallow further inaction. Clump pulled over in his punt to the village,across the bay. There he got some sailors to take a boat and go downthe south coast to look for us, and gathering all the advice andsurmises he could, (which were not consoling), from seafaring men heknew, returned to the cape.
When Juno heard Clump's report, her distress was very great. As shegroaned, and wiped her wet, shrivelled eyes with a duster, she said--
"Lor' o' Marsy! Clump, ef harm's cum ter dem chiles ob MassaTregellin--den--den--you berry me--berry dis ole 'ooman deep."
"Now, toff your mout, June--toff your mout! Wen I'se done berry you, ouyer 'spects gwine 'posit Clump en de bowels ob de arth, ay? He jiststay here and _tink_."--He did not mean _think_, but another wordcommencing with that unpronounceable _s_--"You'se fool, ole 'ooman; whenyou'se begin mittrut de Lor', ay?"
Clump was so frightened himself that he had to talk pretty strong to hisspouse.
Mr Clare, after morning service in the church at Q---town, where he hadgone to hear a college friend preach, took advantage of the lovelyautumn day to walk home, which was about ten miles. He made his wayslowly, enjoying every foot of the road, little contemplating the shockhe was to receive at his journey's end.
He heard Clump and Juno's report without a word, only growing paler andpaler. Then he sat down and covered his face, and, after a moment ofsilence, asked the negroes certain questions as to the course theysupposed us to have taken, as to the storm on the cape, etcetera,etcetera.
He started off after that on a hard run for Bath Bay, where he jumpedinto a boat, and, pulling out into the greater bay, rowed with all hisstrength over to the village; but his inquiries there could gain noinformation, so he hired a small schooner-rigged boat and its owner togo out with him and hunt us up, or find some trace of our fate.
Mr Clare could not be still whilst the boatman, who had to go up to hishome first, was getting ready, but ordered him to make all haste andcall for him off the cape, and then he jumped into his own boat againand recrossed to the cape. But the boatman took a long time in coming,Mr Clare walking up and down the cape in the meanwhile, a prey to thegloomiest apprehensions. It was nearly five o'clock before Mr Claresaw his boat drawing near. At the same moment he heard a scamperingthrough the short, dry grass behind him, and the wheezing of some animalbreathing thick and quick. Turning, he saw, greatly to his surprise,Ugly coming towards him as fast as he could run. Poor little Ugly wasdripping with water, and completely blown and tired out--so tired that,when he had reached Mr Clare's feet, he could only lie down there andpant. Mr Clare knew there was some important reason for Ugly'sappearing in that manner, and though he did not suspect the exact stateof the case, yet he lifted him in his arms and got on board the boat,which had now hauled in close to the rocks.
"Which way will're go, sir?" asked the grey, gruff boatman.
"Keep down south of the cape, near in shore. Clump says they wentwest," answered Mr Clare.
Poor Ugly had somewhat recovered by being wrapped up in Mr Clare's warmcoat, and when he had put his nose into a pail of water that was onboard, he kept it there until the bucket was empty, much to the surpriseof both Mr Clare and Phil Grayson, the old boatman. Furtherstrengthened and refreshed by something to eat, Ugly jumped up on thebow to see where they were going.
He showed evident signs of disapprobation when he saw the boat steeringwest; running to the stern, he there stretched his nose out to the east,and barked furiously. Mr Clare, thinking from the negroes' assertionsthat he must be on the right track, could not understand Ugly'suneasiness. How he had reached the cape, although it was evident he hadbeen in the water somewhere, Mr Clare did not know, nor could he guess,of course, whence he had come. He only hoped that Ugly had left us insafety, and had come in some way to get assistance. It was nearly dark,and the wind had gone down with the sun. Soon the boat lay becalmed.Ugly showed an unmistakable disposition to jump overboard, which,however, was partly quieted when he saw Mr Clare and old Phil use theoars; but when they persevered on the westerly course, Ugly, with anangry bark, sprang overboard and swam in an opposite direction. Thatmovement proved to Mr Clare that they were going wrong, so the boat wasturned and pulled in Ugly's wake until he was overhauled and taken onboard. He shook
himself, wagged his tail frantically, and kissed thehands of both Phil and Mr Clare. It was but slow progress with theoars against the ebb-tide. In about an hour, however, the first whiffsof the night-breeze came to fill the sails, and the oars were put in.They had rounded the cape, and old Phil asked again--
"Whar ne-e-ow, Capting--in shore, you think, or straight ahead?"
"Near the shore, I should think, just br--" but Mr Clare's reply wasinterrupted by Ugly's barking.
Skipper Phil put the boat's head to the north-east, to get nearer inshore as Mr Clare had said, and--splash! Ugly was overboard again andmaking for the east.
"You see, Phil," said Mr Clare, "you must get sailing-orders from Ugly,not me; and, Phil, I begin to be much encouraged by that dog's actions.He does not hesitate, but seems to have something important to do, andto feel confidence in his ability to do it."
"That's so, Capting," answered Phil, as, having got the boat about, hebelayed the sheets and put the other hand to the helm; "he's a cleveranimal, he is. It seems to me that ar dog understands talk like aChristian. Did you take notice h-e-ow he was overboard as quick as youspoke, afore I started a shut? But whar are we going?--that's what Iwant to know."
"Phil," interrupted Mr Clare, "what light is that flaring up away aheadthere on your lee bow?"
"By God, I see! the sails hid that--they did," Phil grumbled, and bentdown to see beneath the sails. He chuckled some time before heanswered, and his chuckle grew to a laugh. "Ha! ha! ha!--that ar lightis on Boatswain's Reef, just as sure as my name is Phil Grayson. MrClare--hurrah!--your boys are safe."
Ugly, who had been lifted on board before that, joined his rejoicingbark to the skipper's merriment, and from the reef came a distanthallooing.
The flames at the reef grew brighter and higher. The sparks flashed andflew up to the dark sky. The shouting increased to yells. The rescuerson the schooner answered; and as for Ugly, the hero of our deliverance,he was almost frantic with delight.
The first words that were distinguishable from the reef were--
"Is that you, Mr Clare? Have you any water on board?"
"Yes!" was responded.
"Oh! do hurry, then--we can't stand this any longer!" cried out Harry.
In two hours more as happy a boatload as ever floated was springingbefore a fresh breeze toward the cape. Long before we touched shore ourglad halloos had reached the old house, and lifted a heavy weight fromthe hearts of Clump and Juno.
They met us on the rocks, and each one of us had to undergo an embracefrom their sable excellencies, ay, excellencies indeed, in devotion anduprightness such as this world seldom sees surpassed. Even CaptainMugford did not escape the ardour of the welcome; and whilst they huggedus the dear old negroes were crying like children, from joy.
Captain Mugford: Our Salt and Fresh Water Tutors Page 14
