The Rival Campers; Or, The Adventures of Henry Burns

by Herbert Strang

  CHAPTER XIII. STORM DRIVEN

  When they awoke next morning the wind was blowing heavily from thenorthwest, and, while the sun was as yet shining brightly, the sky wasdarkened here and there with banks of clouds, which moved with greatrapidity, driven by violent currents. Inside the snug harbour the waterwas calm, but, looking out beyond on the bay, they could see its surfacebroken already into big waves.

  "Looks like a nasty day outside," remarked George Warren. "I wonderwhether we ought to lie in here to-day, or take the chance of clearingthe foot of the island before it gets heavier."

  "I'd hate to stay here another whole day," said Joe.

  "Do you think it's going to blow much harder, George?" inquired Tom.

  "I can't say for certain," replied the other, "but it looks as though thewind was going to increase right along."

  "But don't you think we could get around the foot of the island before itgot much worse?" asked Arthur. "There is only about a mile to run beforewe get under the lee of the islands in the other bay."

  "Of course, if we can reach the eastern bay all right, we shall be insmooth water then," said George, "for the island will shut off the windto a great extent, and there won't be much sea. Well, if you fellows arewilling to take the chance, I am. I guess it won't get any worse than thenight we ran to Bryant's Cove. The _Spray_ stood that all right."

  Breakfast being finished, they double-reefed the mainsail of the littleyacht, and did not set the jib, as they would be running with the windabout on their quarter and would not need it. Then they stood out of theharbour into the bay.

  They were almost immediately in rough water, and the very first plunge ofthe yacht into the heavy sea sent the spray flying over them. Young Joeand Arthur went scurrying into the cabin for the oilskins, of which theyhad a good supply, and the boys prepared themselves for wet weather.

  "We'll get it right along now," said George, "until we can clear thatpoint about a mile ahead there. The _Spray_ does the best she can, butshe does throw the water bad in a heavy sea. It isn't her fault. Andthere's one good thing about her; you can't tip her over. She will standup till the mast and sail are blown out of her."

  The boys now realized how deceptive wind and water viewed from a distancealways are. Gusts of wind that were seen from shore to blacken the waterand send the spray flying from the crests of waves, were found now to beof far greater violence than they had supposed. Viewed from the harbour,the waves had not seemed to be of unusual size, but, now that they threwthe little yacht about like a toy, they assumed a more terrific aspect.

  The wind increased, and the _Spray_ rolled dangerously in the seas.

  "She won't stand this," said George, at length. "We have got to put thethird reef in and do it quick."

  They got the yacht into the wind for a moment, lowered the sail, and tiedin a few reef-points; but the yacht would not hold in the wind, and theyhad to be content with a few knots tied at twice or three times the usualdistance.

  "We're blowing offshore at a great rate," exclaimed George, "but I can'thelp it. I can't hold her up any higher. She won't stand it."

  "Then we cannot make the point," said Arthur.

  "I am afraid not," returned George. "I don't like the prospect of gettingout into that bay, either, but I'm afraid we are in for it. I had no ideathere was any such a sea running, nor anything like this wind."

  The prospect was, indeed, not encouraging. Across the wide stretch of bayfor some eighteen miles the sea was one mass of whitecaps, a tumblingconfusion of waves, which already broke aboard the yacht, covering theboys with spray and necessitating the use of bailing-dish and boat-spongeto keep the water from standing in the cockpit.

  "We've got to get that topping-lift up higher, Arthur," said GeorgeWarren, as the yacht rolled heavily, bringing the boom down dangerouslynear the waves.

  His brother sprang to the halyards at the warning, but it was a momenttoo late. At that instant a wave, rolling higher than any they had yetencountered, raised the _Spray_ on its crest and hurled it forward, atthe same time causing the little craft to yaw so that the boom was buriedfor a moment deep in the seas. That moment was enough. There was a sharpsnap as the boom, splintered in two in the middle, emerged from thewaves, a useless thing. The yacht nearly broached to, while the nextoncoming wave broke fairly aboard, filling the cockpit half-full ofwater.

  They thought it was all over with them then, but they kept their headsand saved themselves. Henry Burns and Arthur Warren, at the risk of goingoverboard, managed to get the broken boom aboard, after they had let thehalyards run, and lashed it astern, so that the yacht was utterly withoutsail. At the same time Tom and Bob, who knew little about handling ayacht, but were ready for any emergency, bailed furiously with pails toclear the boat of water.

  Fortunately, the hatch had been shut, and the deluge of water had notgone into the cabin, or the boat must have foundered. As it was, sherolled heavily till they had bailed the cockpit dry again.

  "That does settle it, with a vengeance," said George Warren, when theyhad recovered a little from the shock. "We have got to run for it now,clear across this bay. I think we can do it all right, but you fellowswill have to bail lively. That won't be the only sea we take aboard."

  "Where do we run to?" asked Henry Burns.

  "That's the worst of it," replied George Warren. "I'm not sure, by anymeans, whether we get blown out to the shoals, or whether we can headover to the eastward any, ever so slightly, and strike the Gull IslandThoroughfare. If we can land under the lee of Gull Island, we may be ableto do something. The first thing, though, is to get there."

  It was no easy thing to hold the yacht on its course, even with no sailto drive it up to windward. Every wave threatened to throw it broadsideon, and it required now and again the united efforts of George and ArthurWarren to steady it. Then a wave would come aboard astern, rolling in andnearly filling the cockpit. Several times it did this, and at each andevery time it seemed as though the little yacht was going down. Theybailed desperately then, every one of them falling to except GeorgeWarren.

  To their credit, though, not one of them lost his courage. Their faceswere drawn and set, but they had confidence that the little _Spray_ wouldsomehow bring them through.

  Toward the middle of the afternoon they had got the Thoroughfare well insight, big Gull Island lying nearly dead ahead and the smaller GullIslands lying away to the eastward.

  "If we can manage to get a scrap of sail on her just as we pass the endof Gull Island," said George Warren, "I think we can swing her in and notcapsize. We've got to keep headway on, though, or one of these bigrollers will get under us and tip us over. We shall have a few rods torun broadside on, for, as we are running now, and the best we can head,we cannot come nearer than that to the island."

  "I'll give her a scrap of sail that she can carry," exclaimed Arthur, anddived into the companionway, shutting the door quickly to keep the seasout. He returned in a moment, bringing a hand-saw. With this he severedclean the broken half of the boom, tying the ends of the rigging to theshort stub that was left. This left the sail a huge, clumsy bag, thatwould evidently not hoist up but a foot or so on the mast, but mightpossibly be of some service in the emergency.

  A torrent of rain now began to pour, falling so dense as almost to shutout the islands ahead. Their outlines became obscured, making the effortto run into the Thoroughfare a more difficult and dangerous one.Moreover, the wind continued to increase.

  "Now, fellows," said George Warren, as they came abreast of the end ofBig Gull Island, "everybody up to windward and hold on hard. She's goingto lay over when she gets these seas broadside. Hoist the sail, Arthur,just as we begin to head in."

  Arthur sprang to the halyards, but they were tangled and did not pulltrue. Try as best he could, the sail would hoist but a little ways on themast. It bagged out like a huge balloon, holding the wind and nearlycapsizing them. Henry Burns, handling the main-sheet, let it run just
intime to save them. Still the sail gave them headway, and, carefullymanaged, would answer to fetch them in.

  Twice they had to head off fairly before the wind again, at the onrush ofsome enormous wave, but they got quickly on their course again, and,rolling frightfully, with the boys clinging far out to windward, thelittle yacht all at once felt the relief which the sheltering extremityof Gull Island afforded from the awful strain. Almost before they knewit, they were in smooth water once more, riding easily at the entrance tothe Thoroughfare.

  "Whew!" cried George Warren, as he dropped the tiller and shook hishands, which were numb and aching from the strain and the cold rain."That was a ride for life that I don't care to repeat again in a hurry.Didn't the little _Spray_ do well, though, eh, Arthur? She had a goodexcuse to founder if she hadn't been staunch. If she was only a littlelarger she wouldn't have minded this at all."

  "We did come flying across that bay and no mistake," said Tom. "I thoughtwe were going to founder twice or three times, though."

  "Looks as though we were stranded here for some days, that's the worst ofit," said George Warren. "This storm has just begun, by the looks of it.It's a lonesome hole, too, down in this reach. Nobody ever comes here,except a few fishermen in the fall and spring. The Thoroughfare is allright, but it doesn't lead to any particular place in the course ofvessels, so it isn't a regular thoroughfare really, like those over tothe eastward more. Now and then a yacht goes through, just for the sail,but one has got to know the channel very well, for it isn't chartedaccurately,--at least, so Cap'n Sam says."

  "Well," returned Arthur, "we are not making a race against time, so Idon't see as it matters much whether we stay here or some other part ofthe bay. We'll just lie snug aboard here to-night, and then to-morrowwe'll get out and explore. There are some fishermen's shanties around onthe other side of some of those smaller islands, and we ought to be ableto build up a fire in one of them and live there till the storm is over,so we won't have to stay in this little cabin all the time."

  "I'll be glad enough to go down there for awhile now," said Henry Burns,"and get dry and warm. Come on, Bob, let's you and me start some coffeeand biscuit going. You do the cooking, because you know how, and I'lllook on. I'll get the dishes out, anyway."

  There was scarcely room in the cabin of the _Spray_ for more than four ofthem to sit and eat, so they threw the mainsail over the stub of the boomand made a shelter out of it against the rain. There, just outside thecabin, Tom and Bob sat as they all ate supper, with the rain pouring downall around and spattering in under the edges of the canvas. It wasuncomfortable and dreary at best, and they were all glad when time cameto turn in, which they did by all crowding into the cabin, where theycould at least keep dry, although stowed away like sardines.

  "Ouch!" exclaimed Henry Burns, as he awoke next morning, feeling stiffand sore. "I feel as though I was creased and starched and ironed, andevery time I move I take out a crease. It will take me half a day tostraighten out again, I've got so many kinks in my neck and back."

  They were all cramped and lame from the uncomfortable positions in whichthey had lain, for on fair nights they had been accustomed to make up twobunks just outside the cabin, in the cockpit. It was still raining hard,but as soon as they had had breakfast they set out to seek for newquarters.

  With the scrap of a sail set, and with the use of the sweeps with whichthe yacht was provided, they worked their way about a quarter of a milealong into the Thoroughfare, till they got abreast of one of the smallerof the Gull Islands. The shores of this were very bold, the rocks goingdown sheer, without any outlying reefs or ledges, so that they were ableto run the yacht close alongside, making her fast at bow and stern withropes carried out on land.

  "It seems good to stretch one's legs again," said Bob, as they all sprangout on to the rocks. They were indeed glad to be on land once more.

  The island on which they now were was about three-quarters of a mile longand about half a mile wide, quite densely wooded with a growth of spruceand young birches. From a little elevation they could look out to seatoward the southward.

  "The shanties are on the other side, if I remember rightly," said GeorgeWarren. "I was down here once in the fishing season. We may as wellstrike directly across to the south shore. That's where the fishermenbuild their weirs for the salmon that run in along the islands."

  They tramped across through the woods in the pouring rain. It was arelief to get even the shelter that the trees afforded from the drivingstorm. Presently they came in sight of the fishermen's cabins, a clusterof four standing in a clearing at the edge of the woods, facing the sea.One of the huts was somewhat larger than the other three, and toward thisthey directed their steps.

  "I don't just like to break into other people's property," said GeorgeWarren, advancing toward the door, hatchet in hand, "but it only meansforcing a staple, and we can replace that without any harm being done.It's the only--hulloa! Why, somebody's been here before us. The door isajar."

  Somebody had, indeed, forced the door, and had not taken pains torefasten it. The staple, which had been drawn, lay on the ground by thedoor, just where it had been dropped. The boys threw open the door andstepped inside.

  The one room, for a shanty of the kind, was fairly commodious. Along thetwo ends were ranged tiers of bunks, three at either end, making justenough for them.

  "Looks as though they were built expressly for us," remarked Henry Burns.

  The bunks were rough, clumsily made affairs, a few boards knockedtogether, with a thin layer of hay thrown in at the bottom of each; butwith the blankets from the yacht they would be comfortable.

  In the centre of the room was a large sheet-iron stove, with a funnelrunning up through the roof. In one corner of the room--there was onlyone room in the cabin--was a sort of cupboard, on the shelves of whichwere piled a few tin dishes. A rusty axe was apparently the only toolleft on the premises.

  There was a scrap of kindling and one or two dry sticks of wood besidethe stove, and with this they started a fire. Driftwood lined the shore,and a number of dead spruces, which had not yet rotted, furnished themwith an ample supply of fuel. They piled the stove full, and soon had afire roaring that turned the stove red-hot and which sent out a gratefulwarmth throughout the cabin.

  "That will dry us out in good shape," exclaimed Arthur, as the steam camefrom his wet clothing. "We'll have this old shanty as comfortable as aparlour. This is a better house than Crusoe ever had."

  It was, in fact, a comfortable shelter against the storm. The roof andsides were shingled, so that it kept out the rain, and though the wind,which by this time was blowing a gale, shook it till it rattled, it stoodfirm.

  After the boys had brought in a supply of firewood, enough to last themthrough the evening, and had stowed it near the stove to dry, they setout again for the yacht, and brought back each a blanket, the yacht's twolanterns, and a supply of food.

  "It's lucky we put a good supply aboard," said young Joe, as they stowedthe stuff away on the cabin shelves. "Looks as though we were in for acouple of days here, at least. It wouldn't have been any fun to have tofish for our suppers in this storm."

  "You would never have survived it, Joe," returned Arthur, "though you dideat enough at that picnic to last you several days."

  "Well, here's a funny thing," cried Henry Burns, who had been rummagingabout in the cupboard. "The parties who were here before us didn'tbelieve in starving. And they didn't believe in living on fishermen'sfare, either." And Henry Burns brought forth three empty wine-bottles anda half-emptied jar of imported preserves. "Here are some tins thatcontained turkey and some kinds of game," he added. "The fishermen don'tbuy that sort of canned stuff. It must have been a party of yachtsmenthat used this place last."

  "They might have had the fairness to fasten the door after them, whoeverthey were," said George Warren.

  "Perhaps the wine accounts for that," said Henry Burns.

  "I'm glad they left us some preserves," said young Joe.


  They slept soundly in the shanty that night, with the wind howling abouttheir ears and the rain dashing against the single window and beatinglike mad upon the roof. Nor did the storm abate the following day, northe next night. Not till the third morning did the sunlight welcome themas they awoke, but then it poured through every chink and crack in theshanty, as though to make amends for the length of its absence.

  When the woods had dried sufficiently so they could venture abroad, theyset out to hunt for a young spruce that would do for a boom for the_Spray_. After cutting several and finding they had been deceived intheir length, they finally secured one which would do. Then they broughtup the stub of the boom from the yacht and got the exact measure of theold one from the sail, which they disentangled from the snarl of rigging,and spread out.

  "I am afraid Captain Sam would laugh at this spar-making effort of mine,"said George Warren, as he trimmed away at the slender trunk of spruce,from which he had peeled the bark; "but it will do to take us on ourcruise again. And what's the use of going on a cruise if you don't haveadventures?"

  When he had fashioned the stick as well as his one tool--a hatchet fromthe locker of the _Spray_--would admit of, he unscrewed the jaws from theold boom, fastened them upon the new, and the boom was done.

  Then they set about mending several tears in the mainsail, with a needleand twine, also from the yacht's locker, and by noon everything was inreadiness for rigging the sail once more. This proved the most difficulttask of all, for they found that it is one thing to know the runningrigging of a sailboat, and another thing to reeve it when it has beendisplaced. It was not until the middle of the afternoon that they had thejob completed, and then, as the wind was dying out, they decided it wasuseless to attempt to set sail till the following morning.

  In the meantime, Henry Burns, finding that he was of no service in thework of rigging the yacht, had volunteered to get a mess of fish forsupper. Accordingly he set out, equipped with a short alder pole and lineand a basket, to try for some cunners and small cod off the ledges on theseaward side of the island. He succeeded in getting a fairly good catch,and then continued along the shore in search of mussels, as the tide wasseveral hours ebbed.

  His search brought him at length to the northernmost extremity of theisland, where he sat down on the beach to rest. Then, as he started toresume his walk, he noticed that the receding tide had left bare a narrowsand-bar, that connected the island on which the cabins stood and theadjacent island, so that he could now pass from one to the other almostdry-shod.

  Fondness for exploring was ever Henry Burns's ruling passion, so he setout across the sand-bar to the neighbouring island, and was pleased tofind that the mussel-beds were far more plenty there than he had foundthem before. This island was not so large as the other Gull Island. Itwas not more than a half-mile long and about a quarter of a mile acrossin its widest part. It had, however, the same characteristic of theother, in that its shores were abrupt, and deep water lay all around it.

  There was but one small strip of beach, extending out into mud-flats,where Henry Burns could gather mussels; but he soon filled his baskethere, and, setting it down in the shade of an overhanging rock, climbedthe ledge that now barred his way, and started to make a circuit of theisland along the edge of its steep banks.

  Henry Burns had a habit of day-dreaming as he walked, unless he happenedto be in search of some particular thing, when he was the most alert ofyouths. So, as he walked, his mind was far away just then, back in thetown of Medford, where he pictured to himself familiar objects, andwondered what was happening there.

  So it happened that he passed a certain tree close by the shore, onlyhalf-noticing that the end of a stout hawser was tied to it, and notpaying any attention to it. When he had gone on a rod or two, it suddenlystruck him that this was an odd thing, as the hawser was new, and so hewent back to look at it. There was a short length of the rope danglingfrom where it had been made fast about the tree-trunk, and he noticedupon examination that the free end had been severed cleanly by the strokeof a knife.

  "That's odd," said Henry Burns. "Fishermen don't usually waste a goodpiece of hawser like that. Some one was extravagant and in a hurry, orimpatient--By Jove! You don't suppose--"

  Henry Burns had lost his preoccupied air in a moment. Following the linefrom the rope to the edge of the bank, he scrambled carefully down overthe face of the ledge to the water's edge.

  Henry Burns was not surprised to discover that the rock was smeared allover with spots of black paint. Moreover, if further evidence were neededthat some one had been at work there, there lay in a niche of the ledgean empty keg in which paint had been mixed.

  But what elated Henry Burns still more was a discovery he made by acloser examination of the ledge just under water. There at a depth offrom one to two feet under water were rough, jagged edges of the rockwhich had been in contact with some object--an object that had left upontheir surface unmistakable smearings or scrapings of paint which waswhite.

  "Hooray!" cried Henry Burns, excitedly, for him. "There it is--the oldand the new. There's where he rubbed against the ledge as he made fast,and here's the evidence all about on these rocks of his new disguise. Andthere, right close to the bank, are the trees to which he fastened histackle. If it isn't just as Miles Burton said, to the letter, thenthere's no trusting one's eyes."

  Henry Burns lay flat on a shelving bit of rock, with his face close tothe water, and peered down to the bed below. The water was not veryclear, but he could discern distinctly a deep, narrow trench in the hardsand, which might have been made by the keel of a boat, if the boat hadtouched bottom at low water.

  Any one observing Henry Burns at this moment would have been puzzledindeed. He suddenly sprang up, tore off his jacket and trousers, baredhimself in the quickest possible time, and, poising for one brief momenton the brink of the water, dived in. He swam to the bottom with twostrokes, clutched at something that lay on the bottom, grasped it in hisright hand, came to the surface, and, drawing himself out on land oncemore, stuffed the object into his trousers pocket and scrambled into hisclothing again, as though his life depended on his haste. Then he startedon a run for the sand-bar, crossed it, paused never a moment for hisbasket of fish and clams, and dashed back to the shanty as fast as hislegs could carry him.

  It was not constitutional with Henry Burns, however, to continue long ina state of excitement, and by the time he had regained his companions hiscomposure had returned. Still, they were familiar enough with him toperceive that something unusual had happened.

  "What's the matter, Henry?" exclaimed George Warren. "We saw you runningalong the beach up there as if somebody was after you. We didn't know butwhat you had found another burglar."

  "No," replied Henry Burns, "it was the same one."

  It was their turn now to become excited.

  "You don't mean really----" began George Warren.

  "Yes, I do," interrupted Henry Burns. "Say, do you remember the strangeblack yacht that came into the harbour at the foot of Grand Island theother night, and that was in such a hurry to get out again when it sawus? Well, that was Chambers, and the yacht was the _Eagle_."

  "Well, but she was black," said George Warren, "and she had no topmast.The _Eagle_ was white."

  "Yes, but don't you recall what Burton said about Chambers, what a handhe was for changing a yacht over so she'd look like a different craft?Well, that's what he has done, and I've found the place where he did it.There's the white paint back there on the edges of the rocks where theyacht rubbed alongside, and the rock is all covered with spots of blackpaint."

  Henry Burns rapidly recounted what he had discovered, including the endof hawser made fast to the tree.

  "But that isn't all," exclaimed Henry Burns, triumphantly, as he fished ahand into his right trousers pocket. "See here, what do you make of this?I saw it shining down in the water just where the stern of the yacht musthave laid."

  Henry Burns drew forth a glittering object from his pocket and held
it upto their gaze.

  It was a gilt letter "E."

  "'E' for '_Eagle_,'" cried Henry Burns. "This letter got away from him.It's clear as daylight now. Say, fellows, let's start for Southport earlyin the morning. That man Chambers is in the bay. He's up to something,and we want to get them after him quick."