Camping on the St. Lawrence; Or, On the Trail of the Early Discoverers

by Quincy Allen

  CHAPTER X.

  TOM SURPRISES THE CAMP.

  The sun was just appearing above the tree-tops on the followingmorning, when the camp was shaken by a report which caused the boys toleap from their beds and rush out into the open space. So startledwere they that the absence of Jock was not perceived; but when theydiscovered him on the bank, and a cloud of smoke could also be seenfloating over the river, they knew at once the cause of the alarm.

  The presence of a small brass cannon on the ground near where Jock wasstanding would have revealed the cause of the excitement if nothingelse had; and, as Jock laughingly turned to greet them, he said:--

  "That's the signal to get up, boys. Ethan will be here soon, and wedon't want to delay breakfast."

  "Where did you get it, Jock?" said Bert, eagerly examining the cannonas he spoke. "It's a beauty!"

  "Oh, I brought it with me, but I hadn't had a chance to mount itbefore. We wanted something to salute the sun with, to say nothing ofthe yachts and steamers that pass us every hour or two."

  "You don't know how you frightened me," said Bob, slowly. "I almostthought the British had come back for us."

  "Look out at that smoke, will you, fellows?" said Ben, pointing to thelittle cloud which could still be seen. "What do you think it lookslike?"

  "What does it look like, Ben?" inquired Jock.

  "It reminds me of the tail of a goose. Something like the tale ofGoose Bay, with which our imaginative friend here regaled us lastnight."

  "It makes me think of the story Virgil tells about Aeneas, where the'pious son' tried to grasp the shade of his faithful wife Creusa. Shejust vanished into thin air, you remember."

  "It's like Bob's history,--too thin," laughed Bert. "Isn't thatEthan's boat?" he added, pointing as he spoke to a sail which could beseen approaching the island.

  "Yes; that's Ethan. Hurry up, fellows, or you'll be late forbreakfast. You know what his opinion is of people who aren't up earlyin the morning."

  His companions hastily returned to the tent, and by the time Ethanlanded they were ready for the breakfast which he speedily prepared.

  "Goin' to have another good day," remarked Ethan, as he and Tomcleared away the breakfast dishes.

  "That's what we want," said Jock. "Ethan, did you bring over thethings we were talking about last night?"

  "Yes, they're in the boat. We've got just the kind of a day we want,too."

  "What is it, Jock, you and Ethan are plotting?" inquired Ben.

  "You'll find out pretty soon."

  The boys were all eagerness as they followed Ethan down to the dock.The boatman soon brought forth a small mast and sail, and as he spreadthe latter out on the ground, its peculiar shape at once impressed theinterested beholders.

  "What do you call that thing, Ethan?" inquired Bert.

  "A sail."

  "Yes, I see; but what kind of a sail is it? I never saw one like itbefore."

  "Likely not. They don't grow in cities. It's a 'bat wing.'"

  The name was so appropriate that no one had any difficulty inunderstanding the cause of the term, but the boatman did not deign tomake any further explanation and at once proceeded to fit the mast inone of the canoes.

  "I only had one," he explained, when the task was completed. "I canget another at the Bay, probably, and as I didn't have time to stopthere this mornin' and see whether there was any letters for any o'ye, if ye don't object, I'll take Jock along with me and sail overthere now. I can show him a little how the thing's managed on our wayover, and then when I come back I'll have a couple o' the bat wings,an' can let the rest o' ye have a try, if ye want it."

  Jock protested that some other one of the boys should be permitted tohave the first sail; but they all declared that he was the one to go,and so the lad took his place in the little canoe, and in a moment thelight craft was speeding swiftly over the water in the direction ofAlexandria Bay.

  "Isn't she a beauty!" exclaimed Bert, delightedly. "They wont be gonelong, will they?" he added, turning to Tom.

  "No," replied Tom. "You'll get all the sailing you want, to-day."

  The boys watched the canoe as it sped on before the wind. They couldsee Jock, who was seated on the edge of the canoe in the bow, whileEthan was in the stern and was managing the sail. At times the canoedipped until it seemed to the watching boys that it must be swamped,but it always righted itself and then leaped forward with everincreasing speed. At last it disappeared from sight behind one of theneighboring islands, and then the boys turned with a sigh to the camp,all of them eager now for the return of their companions, and for theopportunity to try the merits of a canoe fitted out with a bat-wingsail.

  "What'll we do to pass the time, fellows?" said Ben.

  "I think it would be a capital idea for Tom here to speak his piecebefore us," drawled Bob. "He wants to practise, and perhaps we can beof some help to him. Ben here is a prize speaker, you know."

  Tom's face flushed, and for a moment he evidently thought Bob waspoking fun at him. "It isn't much of a piece," he said in confusion."The young folks are going to have a dialogue and try to raise somemoney to fix up the walks over at the Corners."

  "So your father told us," said Bob. "I'm in dead earnest, though, Tom.It's more than likely that Ben can give you points. He took the schoolprize in speaking this summer. Go ahead, anyway."

  "And you boys won't make fun of me?" inquired Tom.

  "Not a bit of it," said Bob, cordially. "We're coming over to see theshow when it comes off, anyway, so you might as well give it to usnow, or, at least, your part. You had pretty good courage to tackleone of Shakespeare's plays, though. How did you happen to do it?"

  "Oh, that was Mr. Wilkinson's idea; he's the teacher at the Corners,you know. He said we might as well learn something worth hearing whilewe were about it, so we finally chose 'Hamlet.'"

  "Quite right, too," remarked Bob, encouragingly, as if he was familiarwith all such little matters as the great dramas of Shakespeare, andwas willing to share his courage with all the world.

  Tom at last reluctantly consented, and striking an attitude, gazed upinto the sky as if nothing less than the ghost was beckoning to him.His eyes assumed a far-away expression, and he waited a moment beforehe began. Then apparently every muscle in his body became rigid, andin a loud and unnatural tone of voice he commenced.

  "Tew be-e-e- or not to be-e-e-e-e-"

  As he spoke his right arm shot suddenly out in front of him, muchafter the action of a piston rod in a great locomotive, and his eyesbegan to roll. Bert suddenly rolled over upon the ground and hid hisface in the grass, and Ben as quickly turned and gazed out upon theriver as if something he had discovered there demanded his attention.Only Bob was unmoved, and without a smile upon his face, he saidsolemnly, "Why do you talk it off like that, Tom?"

  "Isn't that the way to do it?"

  "I should hardly think so. Don't you think Hamlet was puzzled and wassomehow half talking to himself? It seems to me as if he was musingand didn't think of any one to whom he was speaking. He was talking tohimself, so to speak. Don't you think so, Ben?"

  "Yes," replied Ben, desperately striving to control his voice, and notturning his face away from the spot he had discovered on the river.

  "Well, I don't know about it," protested Tom. "It always seemed to methat Hamlet was a good deal of a crank, and instead of actingnaturally he was more likely to do the most unnatural thing in theworld."

  "That may be so. Perhaps you are right about that," said Bob, "butstill I think he was communing with himself. They call it hissoliloquy, don't they?"

  "Yes; but he was crazy, wasn't he? I think that's what the criticssay."

  "I don't know. I believe so," replied Bob, though somehow his air ofconfidence seemed to be departing. "Tom," he added, "have you readmuch of Shakespeare?"

  "I've read all he wrote," said Tom. "We can't do much except read inthe winter down here on the river."

  Ben by this time had either examined the distant object on the riverto
his entire satisfaction, or else was startled by Tom's words. Atall events he quickly withdrew his gaze and looked at the youngboatman in surprise, and even Bert had ceased to bury his face in thegrass. Somehow the comical aspect of Tom's speech had suddenlychanged.

  "What have you read this winter, Tom?" inquired Bob, slowly.

  "Oh, I've read all of Shakespeare, as I told you, and then I've readall of Parkman's histories, and all of Bancroft. You know Parkman hasa good deal to say about the men who first came up the St. Lawrence,and I wanted to learn all I could about the part of the country I livein. But I wanted to know something about other countries too, so I'veread Motley's 'Rise of the Dutch Republic,' and Prescott's 'Conquestof Peru and of Mexico.' Then I've read Wordsworth's poems. It seems tome I enjoy him better than I do any other poet, for the country aroundhis home must have been something like this St. Lawrence country.Don't you think so?"

  Before Bob could reply, Ben and Bert suddenly rose from the ground,and ran speedily into the tent where the trunks were.

  "What's the matter with those boys?" inquired Tom, innocently, lookingup in surprise at the sudden departure of his companions.

  "I don't think they feel very well," replied Bob, demurely; "or it mayhave been that they've gone to see if their fishing tackle is allright after the experience of yesterday. Tom," he added, "do you readany fiction, any novels?"

  "Not many. Pa doesn't like to have me. He says they're all liesanyway, and there's enough that's true to read. I've read a little.I've read most of Scott's novels and Charles Kingsley and some of theother writers. The last book I read was Defoe's account of the Londonplague. I don't like that very well, do you?"

  "I've got to see what those boys are up to," said Bob, suddenly,leaping to his feet as he spoke and moving with unusual quicknessaway from the place where he had been lying.

  "I say, Bob," said Bert, when their friend joined them, "the next timeyou catch a weasel asleep, you let me know, will you?"

  "I wouldn't have believed it," spoke up Ben, quickly. "Here we werethinking we'd get some fun out of this greenhorn, and then he turnsround and puts us all in a hole. I wonder if he really has read allthose books he says he has?"

  "You might examine him and see," replied Bob, dryly.

  "Not much. You don't catch me that way. Here I was thinking we'd dosome missionary work for the poor benighted heathen of the region, andlo and behold, they turn upon us and beat us at our own game. Whowould have believed it? I know I shouldn't, for one."

  "Serves us right. I'll keep clear of Tom till his 'pa' comes back."

  Bob's sentiments were echoed by his companions, and not one of themventured to remind the young boatman of the desire to hear him reciteHamlet's soliloquy. Indeed, they did not venture near the camp untilit was almost noon time, and then Ethan and Jock returned with thenew "bat-wing sail." As they had also brought with them letters foreach of the boys, the time until dinner was ready was all consumed inreading them, and perhaps no one of them regretted the fact.

  After dinner, both Ethan and his son gave their entire attention tothe task of teaching the young campers the art of sailing a canoeequipped with a bat-wing sail. Only one of the party was taken outeach time by a boatman, and then, after a trial trip, he was allowedto hold the sheet while the boatman occupied the place in the bowwhich the pupil formerly had held.

  In this manner the entire afternoon was consumed, and when they allreturned to camp for supper, Ethan declared that he thought it wouldbe safe for the boys to use the canoes, though he advised that no oneshould venture far from the island, and promised on the following dayto repeat the lessons.

  When he and Tom had gone, Ben declared he was going out alone for asail. He would not listen to the remonstrances of his comrades, andsoon started from the dock. The boys watched him until the canoedisappeared behind the nearest island. They had no thought of peril,but when the darkness deepened, and at last the hour of retiring hadarrived, the uneasiness in the camp had become a fear which no onedared to express.