Hildegarde's Neighbors

by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

  CHAPTER XIII.

  IN PERIL BY WATER.

  "All aboard!" said Roger.

  "Ay! ay! Captain!" said Hildegarde, cheerily. She handed in thegroceries which they had bought at the little store, half a mileaway, stepped lightly into the exact middle of the canoe, and sankwith one motion to her seat.

  Roger nodded approvingly. "You are perfect in your entrances!" hesaid. "Some day I shall have to drill you in your exits, as I didthe girls."

  "What do you mean?" asked Hilda. "Don't I get out properly?"

  "Quite well enough for ordinary occasions. But I made the girlsput on their bathing-dresses, and then took them out and tippedthem over, so that they would know just what to do."

  "Thank you kindly. As I have not my bathing-dress on to-day,please don't give me a lesson just now."

  They paddled on in silence; the two had become fast friends sincethe day of Madge's visit, and had had many pleasant paddlestogether. Hildegarde looked about her, at peace with all theworld. Pollock's Cove was a thousand miles away, and there wasnothing to break the spirit of peace that brooded over the water.

  Are you so sure, Hilda?

  The girl's face was set toward the land; she saw the wooded islandwith its fringe of silver birches standing like sentinels to guardthe water's edge; she saw the lovely tangle of asters and golden-rod that gave it its name of Royal Island, and the strip of sandon which the waves were lapping gently; but she saw nothing of thewest behind her.

  "What are you watching so earnestly, Captain?" she said presently."No boats, I hope?"

  "No, no boats! we may have a shower by-and-bye; but I hope weshall get home in time."

  It was a curious sky that Roger was watching. The day had beensmoky throughout, with ragged brown clouds hanging about thehorizon, and thunder muttering low in the distance. The smokyfringe might well come from the forest fires which were raging ina neighbouring district, Roger thought, and the thunder was anevery-day matter of hot weather; but now the clouds were beginningto thicken at one point, and their ragged edges turned to firmerroundings, and their hue was fast deepening to black. Rogerpaddled with strong, even strokes, and the canoe flew over thewater. The distant thunder-growl took on a more insistent voice,and every now and then came a long rolling note, which seemed topass on and over their heads.

  "'Hear now how dey roll de great balls about,'" quoted Hildegarde."If we were in the Catskills, we might look out for Hendrik Hudsonand his men, after such a peal as that."

  "I am afraid we may have to look out for ourselves!" said Roger,laughing. "I begin to feel rather doubtful about getting homebefore the storm, Miss Hilda."

  "It is growing dark, isn't it?" said Hilda, innocently. "Will itbe much of a shower, do you think, Captain?"

  "Well,--I think we may observe slight alterations in theatmospheric conditions. You are not afraid of a squall?"

  "No, indeed! only tell me what I must do."

  "Nothing but sit still--the hardest thing for some people to do;but I have noticed that you are not fidgety. Is your hat securelyfastened?"

  "As securely as my head!"

  "That is well. Stand by, then, and be ready, for it is comingpretty near."

  Roger was used to every variety of weather, but he had been whollyunprepared for the velocity of the storm which was moving down thelake. The clouds, which, a moment before, it seemed, had beenmerely a thickening of the general smoky condition, were nowgathered into a heavy mass, dense blackness fringed with a mistygleam. It came sweeping over the water toward them, devouring thesunlight. A rushing sound was heard, that rose into a roar."Steady, now!" said Roger. "Steady, child! and don't befrightened. Here it comes!"

  Next moment they were struck, beaten, blinded. For a momentHildegarde struggled for breath, so furious was the onset of thestorm; she crouched low in the canoe, but remained perfectlystill. The wind tore at them as if with frantic hands that soughttheir life; the water hissed under them, raced past them madly. Nowaves could rise under the raging gale, but black flaw after flawflew along the surface of the lake. The rain fell in torrents; thefalling streams were caught by the wind, tossed hither andthither, twisted into fantastic shapes of spray, sent flyingforward, forward with the storm.

  No glimpse of land could be seen now; the night was around them,--night gone mad, and they helpless toys in its grasp. Helpless? No!for Roger's strong arm kept the tiny boat steady, as she drovebefore the wind. His face was streaming with rain, his fair hairtossed wildly over his brow, but his look was steadfast as ever,and now and then he glanced at Hildegarde and smiledencouragement. Bewildered at first, Hildegarde felt no fear, andpresently, seeing the quiet confidence of her companion, a wildexhilaration possessed her. She had read of this kind of thing; ithad been a dream, a picture in her mind always; now she waswrapped in the great storm, almost a part of it, borne along onits wings like the birds that beat their wings past her upon thegale. The lightning, which till now had shaken quivering lances offlame across the black water, a flash, then darkness, then again aflash, now became continuous, playing in lambent flames amid theblackness, lighting up the wild turmoil of wind and wave andcloud. The thunder rolled without pause,--overhead, around,beneath them. Crash! boom! crash! And all the while the waterhissed past them; all the while the wind buffeted and shook them,and the rain lashed their faces with stinging whips. The frailcanoe quivered like a living thing in mortal terror. What would bethe end?

  The end came soon enough. Hildegarde was suddenly brought downfrom her airy castle of storm-wrapped bliss by hearing Roger'svoice, high-pitched to carry across the uproar, saying with calmemphasis, "Take off your shoes! We shall very likely go over whenwe round this point. If we do, strike out at once, and swim till Iget hold of you."

  Hildegarde nodded, and pulled off her low shoes; then she tried tothink how it would feel to be flung into this mad water. The nextmoment the wind, which had lulled for an instant,--or had it onlyrecoiled to take a fresh spring?--the wind rushed out of thedarkness, and caught the canoe. It was a breathless struggle, managainst the powers of air and of water. Hilda saw the powerfularms braced like steel to meet the onset, saw the quiet face setlike marble, clenched teeth and frowning brow,--and saw no more,for here the canoe, having borne all that birch-bark could bear,capsized, and the girl found herself in the black water.

  Down, down, down! Was she going to the bottom? She struck outblindly, as she had been told, trying to keep her thoughtstogether. They said that drowning was pleasant; but she did notwant to drown. Should she ever be able to breathe again? Her dressclung about her ankles, the water hummed and buzzed in her ears,in her nostrils; but still she swam bravely. Suddenly she felt astrong arm thrown round her, and in another moment her head wasout of water. Oh, the blessed air of heaven! how she drank it in,in deep, gasping breaths! Just to be alive, to breathe, washappiness enough. Roger was swimming strongly and steadily withone arm, holding her with the other. He caught the paddle in histeeth as it floated by, and at first Hildegarde could think ofnothing but how funny he looked, like a great fair-haired dogswimming about. He had righted the canoe, and now flung the paddleinto it, and turned to Hildegarde. "All right? Thank Heaven! Takehold by the bow, and I will tow you ashore."

  "I can swim," said Hildegarde. "I am all right, truly. Can't Iswim on the other side and help her along, instead of hindering?"

  "To be sure. Hurrah for you!"

  Hilda grasped the canoe with her left hand and tried to swim withher right. She could do little, however, against the furiousbattling of wind and wave; and Captain Roger set his teeth, andwondered whether he was going to be beaten this time. "I won't!"he said aloud to the storm; and shook his head, lion-like, andbraced his strong shoulders, and swam on grimly. A few moments ofsilent, breathless fighting, the wind screeching, like Bedlamloose, the foam driving and hissing, the lightning blazing,incessant, maddening.

  Could they reach the shore? Hildegarde asked herself. Was thisonly prolonging the agony, dragging this brave man to death withher, on
her account? If he were not hampered with her, he wouldhave been safe on shore before this. If she were a girl in astory-book, she would loose her hold now, and sink silently; butshe was not a girl in a story-book. She was a very real HildaGrahame, and she did not want to sink. And how could our poorHilda know that the Merryweather obstinacy was roused, and thatRoger meant to save her and himself, and the canoe, too, if he hadto swim across the lake to do it? But now she heard him cry out,in a joyful tone: "Courage, little girl! here we are, all right!"

  Next moment,--oh, joy! oh, wonder past belief! she felt the groundbeneath her feet. She was walking, standing upright on the good,solid, blessed earth. The canoe touched bottom, grazed, floatedagain, then grounded gently and was still.

  "Shake yourself as well as you can," said Roger, "while I haul herup. So, now then! under this, and here we are!"

  In the turn of a hand he hauled the canoe up on the sand, turnedit over, and drew Hildegarde beneath the shelter. A clump ofbushes broke the force of the wind, so they could breathe inpeace, without having to fight for every breath.

  For a few minutes they sat in silence, panting, dripping, gazingat each other with dilated eyes. Their thoughts were utterlyirrelevant, as thoughts are apt to be after a great crisis. Rogerwas thinking that a pretty face looked much prettier wet than dry,and compared apples and flowers; Hildegarde wondered if SaintBernard dogs could swim. "Because Newfoundlands are black, youknow," she found herself saying aloud in an explanatory tone.

  "I beg your pardon!" said Roger, remorsefully. "I--I am afraid youare very wet."

  Hildegarde felt that she must either cry or laugh, so she laughed."If it were not for you, Captain, I should not be alive now. Ishould have gone down, down,--and the water was so black. Was itever anything but black in that place?" Her voice shook, but shepulled herself together instantly. "Why do you look troubled,Captain?" she asked. "The island is solid, isn't it?"

  "You are so wet!" said Roger again, more ruefully than before.

  "No wetter than you!" said Hilda, with a little laugh. Indeed,they were both streaming with water, and looked like a merman andmermaid very much out of their element.

  "I? Oh, I never know whether I am wet or dry. But it is differentfor you; you will take cold, or--or something, won't you?"

  "You are afraid I shall melt?" asked Hildegarde. She stooped downand gathered her skirt together, wringing little floods of waterfrom it. "No, I don't think I shall melt, really, Captain. Do Ilook as if I were melting?"

  "You look--" began Roger, and stopped suddenly, and then wonderedwhy he stopped, and told himself he was an ass.

  "Speaking of melting, reminds me," he said, laughing. He felt inhis pockets, and produced a small parcel. "I hope this is notmelted. No, it is all right. Have some chocolate, and let us makemerry on our desert island! See! the worst of the squall is over.It is lightening already; I can see the nearest island."

  "Yes, and the water begins to show grey, instead of all black andwhite. But has this really been nothing more than a squall,Captain Roger?"

  "Oh, if you like the dignities of meteorology, I think we mightvery properly call this a tornado."

  "A tornado! I have been out in a tornado! And how splendid it allis!"

  Roger laughed again. "Splendid, eh? So it is! Rather good fun,too, now we are on dry land."

  "Glorious fun!" cried Hildegarde.

  The water still raced past at their feet; the rain still poureddown, the thunder cracked and roared and bellowed, and thelightning blazed. But under the canoe it was really quite dry,considering; and the chocolate was excellent, and, on the whole,both Hildegarde and Roger thought well of tornadoes.

  Meanwhile, there were some anxious faces at the camp. The stormhad broken there as suddenly as out on the lake. Bell and Gertrudewere out fishing, but fortunately near the shore, and they reachedhome just as the fury broke loose. Obadiah and Ferguson were blownin on the gale, turning handsprings as they came, and singing

  "Oh, I'd give a sight For to be a kite When the wind is howly-wowling!"

  Willy and Kitty were discovered, after a few minutes' anxioussearch, under the great apple-tree, in high glee because it wasraining apples, and the wind would mash them, and the lightningwould cook them, and there was no need of coming home to tea, withapple-sauce growing on every tree. Being hoisted on the shouldersof the twins, they changed their point of view, and turning intoArabs mounted on camels, capered joyously into the house, toescape the sand-storm of the desert. Mr. Merryweather, who wasspending a day or two in camp, came in from the boathouse, wherehe was tinkering boats as usual. The whole party sat down, wet anddishevelled, and drew breath as they looked at each other.

  "Well, this is a visitation!" said Mr. Merryweather. "Why didn'tsome of you tell me what was going on?"

  "None of us knew till we found our faces slapped and our hairpulled out," said Bell. "This is a surprise-party, I think, got upfor our special benefit."

  "Are we all here?" asked Mrs. Merryweather. "Let me count! One,two, three, four, five, six, and you and I, Miles, make eight. Butwhere are Roger and Hilda?"

  "Out in the Cheemaun!" was the reply in chorus. There was ageneral exclamation of dismay, then each one commented in hisfashion.

  "Cricky!" said Phil. "The Professor will have a great chance formeteoro-lolli-lolli-logical observations, won't he?"

  "I fear, my gentle Roger, You'll be as wet as Bodger!"

  said Gerald.

  "Who is Bodger?" asked little Kitty.

  "Bodger, my blessed child, was a stodger, and a codger, and a veryartful dodger; he carried his bones to David Jones, and asked tobe took as a lodger."

  "Do be quiet, Jerry!" said Bell. "Father, can the canoe stand sucha gale as this?"

  "And Hilda had on her BEST DRESS!" said Kitty, with tragicemphasis.

  "Ho! Hilda doesn't care for dresses!" said Willy, scornfully. "Igot wheel-grease all over her skirt, the other day, and she didn'tsay a word."

  "I do feel anxious, Miles," said Mrs. Merryweather. "This is anawful gale."

  "Pooh! pooh!" said her husband. "Roger knows how to take care ofhimself, and Hilda too. Boys, is the skiff well moored?"

  The boys knew it was, but thought it would be well to see, anddisappeared by handsprings into the darkness. A double splash,followed by joyous shouts, announced their arrival on anddeparture from the wharf; and they shortly reappeared, drippingand gleeful.

  "Boys, how can you!" exclaimed their mother. "This is the fifthtime you have been in to-day; besides, I have just tidied up thisroom. Go away with you, and drip in the tent."

  "He pushed me off, and I pulled him in!" said Phil, inexplanation. "Very sorry, shall not occur again."

  "I wanted to see how deep the water was," said Gerald. "Veryimportant, you know, to take soundings in a storm."

  "Still more important to quicken the circulation after a coldbath," said Mr. Merryweather, taking up a leather strap from thetable. The boys shrieked, and vanished through the window in afine harlequin act.

  The lightning blazed incessantly, the wind howled and roared aboutthe camp, and the thunder pounded and smashed the clouds overhead.Bell and her mother drew closer together, and Kitty nestled downbetween them, and held a hand of each, "to keep herself safe."

  "If the lightning strikes the camp, what shall we do?" askedWilly.

  "I think we shall be very likely to keep still!" said his father,dryly.

  "Miles, how can you?" said Mrs. Merryweather. "I wonder you canjoke, with those two children out in the canoe in this horror!"

  "My dear, I would gladly weep, if I thought it would be of anyassistance to Roger; as it is, I rather fancy he is quite as welloff as we are, if not bet--"

  Crack! The world turned to blue light, showing a ring of ghastlyfaces, looking terror at each other; then the sky fell, and allwas night.

  "All speak who are unhurt!" said Mr. Merryweather's calm voice;and no one would have guessed the anguish of suspense in which hewaited for the repl
y. But it came in a chorus: "Miranda!" "Bell!""Gertrude!" "Will!" "Kitty!"

  "Thank God!" said Miles Merryweather. "That was a close call.Boys, are you all right?" He stepped to the window as he spoke.

  "All right, father!" For once the boys' voices sounded grave; asthe pall of darkness lifted, they entered, very pale, and holdingeach other tightly by the hand. "The big oak is struck!" theysaid. "Shivered into kindling-wood. We were just going to climbit, to look at the storm."

  "We don't like this!" said Gerald. "We feel very muchuncomfortable inside us, and we want our mother."

  And sure enough, the two tall fellows sat down on the floor bytheir mother, and put their heads in her lap; and she patted thecurly heads, and talked to them soothingly, and forgot that theywere not still her little lads, whom she had rocked in her armstogether many and many a time.

  "Your nerves are upset," said their father. "Always the case whena stroke comes so near as that. If you ever feel inclined to climba tree in a thunderstorm again, just mention it to me, and I willsee to you." He spoke lightly, but he took occasion to pass nearthe boys, and laid his hand on them, as if to make sure that theywere really there and safe, and rubbed their shoulders and gavethem a little affectionate slap.

  For a while they sat quiet, for all were still quivering from theblow that had passed so near them. Gradually the fury of the stormabated; the lightning ceased to play continuously, and though eachseparate flash was still terribly vivid, yet the pauses betweengave strength and refreshment to the wearied eyes and nerves. Thegreat shocks of thunder rolled heavily, but still farther andfarther away. The storm was moving off across the lake, and onethought was in the hearts of all--the birch canoe. How was it withthose two, alone in that frail boat in the wild tempest? It seemedhours that they sat there, waiting and listening. At length--"Itis lighter now," said Mr. Merryweather. "Come, boys, let us godown to the wharf, and see what we can see. Hark! what was that?"

  For a moment every heart stood still. Then Mrs. Merryweather beganto cry, and Bell and Gertrude and Kitty all fell into her arms andround her neck, and sobbed in chorus; but the boys started totheir feet with a wild "Hurrah!" and dashed out of the house,followed by their father and Willy. For now, clearer every momentand clearer, came ringing across the water the words of the SkyeBoat Song, sung by joyous voices of a youth and a maiden.

  "Speed, bonny boat, like a bird on the wing, Onward, the sailors cry. Carry the lad that's born to be king Over the sea to Skye."

  "But Roger is not a king!" said Gerald, with a queer little breakin his voice. "He is only a codger!"