by Quincy Allen
CHAPTER XXVII.
THE SEARCH.
The feeling of gloom in the hearts of the boys was reflected in thedusk which now had settled over all. The sun had disappeared, and theblaze in the western sky seemed weird and unnatural. The silence thatrested over the river was so intense that it almost seemed as if theycould hear it, if such a thing were possible. For a moment the boyslooked blankly at one another, but no one seemed willing to giveutterance to the fear which evidently possessed them all.
Jock was the first to speak, and as he reached over and grasped thecanoe to make it fast to the skiff, he said in a low voice, "This isthe worst yet, fellows. I'm almost afraid to go on."
"We'll have to go, whether we're afraid or not," said Bob.
His decided tone could not conceal his anxiety, but his suggestionwas so manifestly practical that the oars were at once taken up, and,with the little canoe in tow, they resumed their way up the river.
The waters were calm now, so calm that scarcely a ripple could beseen. Lights began to appear in the distant cottages, and the darknesssteadily deepened. Still the boys rowed swiftly on, unmindful of thelong and wearisome day which had gone, and thinking only of theirmissing friend. Bert was keeping a careful lookout, though just whathe or his companions expected to see was not evident.
"I think, fellows," said Bert, at last, "you'd better row farther intoward the shore of the islands. The storm came from the west, and ifBen landed anywhere, it would be likely to be on one of the islands.We can go up a mile or two, and then if we don't see or hear anythingwe can cut across to the Bay. He may have been picked up by some boatand carried back there, you know."
The direction of the skiff was quickly changed, for the advice seemedgood, though no one replied to Bert's words, and soon they wereskirting the islands. Again and again they stopped and shoutedtogether, but only the echoes along the shore or the calls of thenight birds responded.
The slight hope they had cherished was almost gone now. The emptycanoe was a constant reminder of their loss, and the longing in theirhearts was fast becoming changed to despair. Not even the paddle hadbeen found, and the fear that the canoe had been capsized in thesquall, and its occupant thrown into the water, was becoming almost acertainty.
"There's one thing, fellows," said Bob, at last, striving somehow tokeep up their courage, "and that is, that Ben, though he is the mostunlucky fellow in some ways that ever lived, in others is the mostlucky. Just think of the scrapes he's been in since we came down here,and yet he got out of every one. If it had been any one of us, we'dhave gone straight to the bottom of the St. Lawrence, but Ben,somehow, manages to come right side up with care, and I'll not give upyet."
Bob endeavored to speak confidently, but his words failed to cheer hiscompanions. The lights of Alexandria Bay could now be seen in thedistance, and the end of their attempt to discover the missing Benhad almost come. Failure was to be stamped on them all, they thought;and though they still continued to row, the dejection of all three wasbecoming more and more apparent.
"We might as well strike across for the Bay, now," said Jock, at last,pausing as he spoke, and looking sadly above him in the twilight.
"Yes, I think we'd better go over there," replied Bob. "Of course Benmay have gone back to camp long before this, but as we are so near, Isuppose we might as well go on and do what we can."
They were only about twenty yards from the shore of one of the littleislands now, and as they grasped their oars again to carry out Jock'ssuggestion, they were startled by a shout that came from a projectingpoint in advance of them.
They could perceive some one standing there and waving a handkerchiefaloft on a stick. The faint sound of his call was sufficient tointerest the boys at once, and without uttering a word they began torow swiftly in that direction. Bert was peering eagerly at the figureof the man standing on the rock, and as soon as the sound of thehallo became a little more distinct, he said in a low, intense voice,"I believe it's Ben, boys. Give him the school cheer, and let's see."
The boys stopped, and the school cheer rang out, and then they waiteda moment in breathless suspense for the response.
Faintly across the water came the answering cheer, and then, halflaughing and half crying, Jock said, "Did you ever see such a fellowin your lives? It's just as Bob here says. Ben can get into morescrapes, and get out of them too, than any chap that ever lived."
"Never mind that part of it now," said Bob, quickly. "Give way, Jock,and let's go for him. Of all his scrapes this is the worst."
There was no mistaking the reaction now as the boys swept over theriver, making every stroke tell. As they approached the point, theyperceived Ben seated on one of the rocks, and leaning upon his paddleas if he was the most unconcerned spectator of their movements.Quickly the skiff was sent ashore, and as Bert leaped out, Ben, whohad not stirred from his seat on the rocks, said,--
"I must say, fellows, you have taken your time. I didn't know but youwere going to leave me here all night. I've travelled clear aroundthis island three times since I landed, and I haven't seen a boat or aman. I thought I was Robinson Crusoe for certain, and done into modernEnglish."
"Oh, Ben," said Jock, in a trembling voice, "don't talk that way. Youdon't know how frightened we were. We started out to search for youjust the minute we got back to camp, and when we found that canoe ofyours empty and floating down the river, we didn't know what hadhappened--"
"Did you find my canoe?" interrupted Ben, eagerly.
"Yes, yes," said Jock, laughing in spite of himself.
"Where is it?"
"Right here. We took it in tow."
"That's good. The thing got away from me, and I didn't expect ever tosee it again. You see, the wind drove me straight ashore here, and Iwas mighty glad to get ashore, too. When I grabbed my paddle andjumped out, and then turned around to pick up my canoe, why, it waslike the Irishman's flea--when I put my hand on it, it wasn't there."
"What did you do, Ben?" inquired Bert.
"Do? I didn't do anything. The wind blew so I thought it was going totear up the very island itself. I hid myself behind the rocks, andwaited. When the storm had passed I began to look about to see how Iwas to get away from my desert island. I travelled around it threetimes, as I told you, but I couldn't find any way of getting off, andI'd about made up my mind I'd have to spend the night here, when Idiscovered three men in a boat, and hailed them."
"Did you know who we were?"
"No; and I didn't care. All I wanted was to be taken off."
"We'll take you now," said Jock. "Come along; it's getting dark."
"I'll take my canoe, _if_ you please," said Ben, glibly.
"Ben, you're not going to paddle back to camp in that cockle-shellto-night?" exclaimed Jock, aghast at the proposal. "I should thinkyou'd had enough of it for one night. Come along and be civilized,and take your place at the oars in the skiff, like a little man."
"Here I take my stand. I can do no other," responded Ben, striking anattitude as he spoke. "If I go back to camp, it'll be in my lightcanoe."
"Let him go on a raft if he wants to," said Bob, glumly. "We've doneour part, and it's his own risk now."
"Ben, you'll keep close to us, won't you?" pleaded Jock.
"Yes, if you'll keep close to me," replied Ben. "You'll have to doyour best to keep up, though, I can tell that."
Lighthearted now, the boys resumed their places in the skiff, Berttaking Jock's place at the oars, and with Ben in his canoe, which hadnot suffered any from the storm, started down the river.
Ben was as good as his words, and though the two pairs of oars enabledhis friends to make excellent time, they were compelled to exertthemselves to the utmost to keep the skiff within sight. As aconsequence, when they arrived at the camp, as they did soonafterward, they were thoroughly tired, and ready for the supper whichEthan and Tom had provided.
Ben's appearance was as welcome to the boatmen as it had been to theboys, and while they were seated at the table he was co
mpelled torelate the story of his adventure again. As Jock perceived that thetents had been restored, he turned to Ethan and said,--
"Did you have any trouble in setting the tents up again?"
"Just a little," responded Ethan. "One o' 'em I found up in the top o'that pine tree over yonder, and t'other one was down on the shore, butwe managed to git 'em all right enough. Neow then, I'm a-goin' to takethat canoe back with me to-night. I jest won't leave it where that Bencan get hold of it. The next time he'll not be so lucky."
Even Ben uttered no protest; but when Ethan started for the placewhere the canoe was kept on the bank, it could nowhere be found. Benpretended to search with the others; and when all their efforts provedunavailing, Ethan declared testily,--
"The pesky thing's got afloat again. Well, there's one comfort, andthat is that this boy can't bother with it. I shouldn't sleep a winkto-night thinkin' o' him, if 'twas left here."
After the departure of the boatmen Ben demurely entered the woods, andsoon returned with the treasured canoe in his arms.
"That's too bad, Ben," said Jock. "You know what Ethan said."
"I'm not going to scare Ethan to-night," replied Ben, "for I've hadenough to satisfy me for one day. But you don't think for a momentthat I'm going to give up my work in this thing, do you? Well, I'mnot. It's just got to come to my turn, and that's all there is to it!"
None of the boys were surprised when they came forth from the tent onthe following morning to discover Ben paddling about the river in hiscanoe. It was true he did not venture very far from shore, the lessonof the previous day evidently not having been entirely lost, and asthe rest of the night had restored the spirits of his companions, theywere all inclined to look upon his persistence in a spirit of goodnature.
Ethan, too, displayed no anger when he arrived and discovered Ben inhis customary morning occupation, and, while the boys were seated atthe breakfast table, made many inquiries as to their experiences andsuccess in shooting the Longue Seaut Rapids. His enthusiasm was greatwhen he learned of the capture of the muscallonge, and again and againhe referred to his own prophecy concerning the fishing in that part ofthe St. Lawrence River.
For several days the life in the camp on Pine Tree Island wasuneventful, though every day was filled with its own interestingexperiences. Ethan contrived to spend more of his time with the boysthan he had previously done, and though he did not refer to theperilous experience in the storm, they all understood that that wasthe motive which controlled him, and, if the truth were known, not oneof the boys objected. Though the vividness of that fearful ride in thegale had in a measure departed from their minds, still the memory ofit was strong, and even the determined Bob seemed to have profited bythe lesson.
One day, in the week which followed, the Clarkes came with their yachtand took the boys with them for a picnic on Chimney Island. Theremains of the old French fort were still standing, and as the view ofthe St. Lawrence from the ruins was one which extended for miles upand down the river, they all could readily understand why that spothad been selected by the soldiers of that far-away time. Bob offeredto explain the early history to his friends, but as Ben said quickly,when Bob began,--
"There it is again! It's just as I said. Bob has been reading up onevolume of the Cyclopaedia. It's the one with the C's in it. Cartier,Champlain, Canada, Catholic, Cavon, Cortereal, and now it's ChimneyIsland. For one, I've had enough."
The laugh which followed when the meaning of Ben's words was explainedto the party caused even Bob to desist, and changing the subject, heinquired,--
"Have any of you young ladies ever seen Hamlick?"
"Seen what?" said Miss Bessie. "What's Hamlick? Is it another fish youcaught in those wonderful Longue Seaut Rapids?"
"No," replied Bob. "It's Ethan's word for Shakespeare's play. The'young folks' are going to give it to-morrow evening over at theCorners for the benefit of the public walks. We're going, all four ofus; and I didn't know but you would like to go, too."
The proposition was hailed with delight; and when the party broke upin the late afternoon it was agreed that Mr. Clarke was to stop forthe boys on the following evening, and that together they were all togo to the Corners and witness the much talked about play of"Hamlick."
