Motor Boat Boys' River Chase; or, Six Chums Afloat and Ashore

by Burt L. Standish

  CHAPTER IV

  A MYSTERY LOOMS UP

  That was not the first time Buster Longfellow had taken an involuntarybath in the Father of Waters, as his comrades knew only too well. At thesame time, this fact did not lessen the excitement that followed hisdisappearance one little atom.

  Such a splashing and grunting and wallowing as there was when the fatboy took that sudden plunge; why, one could easily imagine a whole troopof hogs had been coaxed in to being scrubbed, preparatory to anexhibition at the county fair.

  And the way the water flew was a caution. A young whale working its wayup the river from the gulf, or rather a porpoise, since whales are notto be found often in the Sunny South, could not have created a greaterracket.

  Of course every fellow, after that first shock, sprang to his feet, andmade for the shore as fast as his legs could carry him. It might be aludicrous sight, all very well, but there was a little element of dangerconnected with it; and they were comrades true, who could not stand by,and see poor Buster dragged out into the middle of the river by a fish.

  When the splashing had in a measure subsided, they discovered the stoutfigure of Buster. He was standing in the yellow water up to his waistand tugging with all his might at the fish line, which he seemed to havewrapped around both hands, as though just determined that his prizeshould not get away.

  Now the boy would gain a foot, and seem to be dragging his capturetoward land; when there would be a sudden tremendous effort on the partof the fish to escape, and the first thing Buster knew, he was beingpulled back again, though he fought tooth and nail to hold his own.

  Once his feet flew from under him, owing to the slippery condition ofthe mud on which he stood. At that a great "Oh!" broke out from theother five boys; and Jack, who had been hastily removing some of hisouter garments, with the intention of being ready in case his help wasneeded, was just on the point of jumping in, when Buster again emergedfrom the turmoil, rising up like a Neptune, the water pouring from hishead like a young Niagara.

  "Let him go, Buster; he's too much for you!" shrilled George, whowas leaning over the edge of his boat with a pole in his hand, andregardless for once that the cranky Wireless careened far down until herbeam end almost took in water.

  "I won't!" snapped back the stubborn Buster, shaking the drops from hisface, as a New Foundland dog might after a bath. "He's mine, and I'mgoing to grab him if it takes all summer, see?"

  He had managed to get a good footing once more, and started to tugmanfully with the result that he immediately gained several yards. Thiswas the best he had done as yet, and in consequence he seemed to receiveinspiration to make a still greater exertion.

  After that the victory was as good as won.

  Buster marched out on the bank the line over his shoulder; and as soonas they could do so without wetting themselves Josh and Herb seized holdof the stout cord.

  "Wow! it sure is a whale!" exclaimed George, from his position ofvantage on board his boat, as something that flapped, and made atremendous splutter, was dragged out of the river, and up on the shore.

  It was a tremendous yellow catfish, one of that species that help tomake the Mississippi famous among market fishermen.

  "Whee! must weigh about as much as Buster does, and that's a fact!"remarked Josh, as he surveyed the monster.

  It was not a lovely spectacle, with its slippery skin, and great gapingmouth resembling that of a big bulldog.

  "What whiskers it's got, the omadhaun!" Jimmie called out, "and say thehorn on his back, wud yees? Whoo! but 'tis a brave lad ye arre, Buster,to holdt sich a monster stiddy, and walk ashore wid the same. I take offme hat till yees, so I do, me laddybuck!"

  Buster was panting like anything, and could hardly get his breath; butJack believed he had never seen him look quite so happy, as when hestood over that giant Mississippi cat, and had his picture snapped offby George, who got his new kodak out especially to preserve the incidentamong the annals of the club.

  "Get some dry clothes on you in a hurry, Buster," suggested Jack, afterthey had all congratulated the hero of the occasion on his dogged pluck,"it's all very well holding on like that, but you ought to know whenit's time to let go, too. I thought that time had come when it pulledyou under. You had the cord wrapped around both hands, Buster, a veryfoolish thing to do, I think. If you hadn't been able to get yourfooting again, and had no friends near by to lend a hand, it was apt togo hard with you. And let me tell you there have been more fishermenthan a few drowned by just such a foolish trick as that. Hold on as longas you want, but never put yourself in a position where you can't letgo."

  Buster smilingly agreed that this was good advice, and promised toremember. He was feeling so remarkably happy over his great luck that hecould not have taken offense at anything, and would have made therashest sort of promises.

  And while he rooted out his clothes bag, so as to get some dry togs,Jack and Andy proceeded to cut up the big fish; because they knew that,horrible looking though the creature might be to a sportsman, its fleshis highly esteemed as an article of food along the length of the wholeriver.

  It was no easy task they had set themselves; and more than once theywished the slippery catfish had broken loose, and gone off with Buster'shook dangling from its jaw like cheap jewelry, with which to dazzle itsfellows. But in the end they managed to secure all the meat they wanted,and tossed the balance into the river to feed its kind.

  "Now, let's be getting off!" called out Jack, after he had washed up,and in some measure removed the fishy smell from his hands.

  Since the other boys had taken everything aboard, there was reallynothing to detain them; and presently the merry reports from the variousengines told that the three motorboats had again resumed their journeydown the Mississippi in the direction of Bedloe's Island.

  That was an afternoon not soon to be forgotten by any of them, for theair was just warm enough to make them delight in lying around, andtaking a sun bath. No doubt George was having the time of his life withBuster, who must be so chock full of his recent triumph that everylittle while he would burst out with a new string of questionsconcerning his battle, and wishing to know what it looked like fromevery angle ashore.

  But the time passed, and as George's engine gave him no new trouble, thelittle flotilla made splendid progress while the hours crept on.

  At just three-forty-seven Jack gave a blast from his old conch shellhorn which he had brought up from Florida with him--in fact, every boatwas provided with a similar means for exchanging signals, and the boyshad arranged a regular code, so that when separated by a mile or sothey could talk with each other after some sort of fashion.

  This single blast just now announced that Jack believed he had sightedthe island that was to be their destination, away down the river.Judging from their speed, aided by the swift current, they ought to makeit inside of another half hour. This would give them plenty of time tohunt a good landing place, where they could put up their tent, and makethings at least half way comfortable before night set in.

  Although the boys could sleep aboard, and very comfortable too, theypreferred being ashore whenever it was possible, all save George, whocould seldom be coaxed to desert his beloved Wireless craft, even for abrief time. He acted as though he dreaded lest that engine think up somenew trick if he left it alone; eternal watchfulness was the price ofvictory with George; and his chums often declared that when he was on acruise George hardly knew what sort of country he passed through, forkeeping his nose down so persistently over that motor of his.

  Jack's prediction came true, and when a quarter after four came around,they were running along the shore of a wooded island which he announcedwas the object of their search.

  "Where are we going to land, Jack?" called out Buster, for the threeboats were now very close together, and the crews had been exchangingcomments on the sombre appearance of the lonely island for some timepast.

  "I don't know," came the answer, "because I've never been here before.We'd better just
float along down close to the shore, and keep an eyeout for a suitable landing place. If we don't find one on this side, bythe time we get to the foot of the island, why, what's to hinder ourworking along up the other shore, and looking for it there?"

  "That's so, Jack!" admitted Buster, who was in one of his finest humors;though for that matter they seldom knew the fat boy to be anything butamiable and good-natured, as most of his kind are.

  They must have passed almost to the very tail end of the long islandwhen Josh let out a whoop, and called the attention of his comrades towhat seemed to be a little bay that formed a tiny cove, with a sandybeach beyond.

  "Just the ticket!" agreed Jack, "looks like it had been scooped out fora landing place."

  "Bet you them fishermen come right in; and we'll be apt to find some oftheir huts around back there," suggested George, who had possibly heardmore stories about mysterious Bedloe's Island than any of the others,for he had been making poor Buster's flesh run cold during the afternoonwith accounts of strange things people said had occurred to make theplace shunned.

  "Then there must be good fishing around here," remarked Buster, with theair of one who ought to be consulted whenever such sport were mentioned,because he had surely won his spurs that day, if any one ever did.

  "Listen to him talk," broke out Josh. "Now he's got the fishing bee onhis brain and he'll just as like as not be at it morning, noon andnight, till we get sick of the smell of fish. One good thing about itthat I can see is, after he's been living on fish food for a whole weekBuster will have brains enough to last him all summer, because they sayit makes 'em, you know. Sometimes I think he's a little short in hissupply, especially when he wraps a fish line around both hands, whenhe's got a young whale at the other end."

  They had no difficulty in passing into the little "bight," as Jackcalled the miniature cove, for the water was deep enough for even theWireless; although Jack said they would have to be sure and constantlykeep tabs on whether the river was rising or falling each day andnight, since it would be mighty unpleasant to awaken some fine morningto discover that their motor boats were high and dry; as the water hadgone down a foot while they slept.

  They secured the craft ashore to trees that chanced to be growing closeby; for floods did not often come to this upper part of the great riveras they did below the confluence with the Ohio and the Missouri.

  Then some of the things were taken to land; and the six boys were soonworking like so many beaver, fixing camp.

  The tent had to be erected; and after it had been partly placed inposition a better spot was discovered, so that the job had to be alldone over. As the day was growing near its close and darkness might beexpected to fall upon them before another hour, there was no time forloitering. Why, even George had been made to see the error of his ways,and forgot all about that everlasting motor of his for a short time,lending a hand to get things in shape around the camp.

  Josh had plenty to do starting the fire, after fashioning a rude buteffective cooking range out of the many stones that could be had alongthe shore for the picking up. They carried a little contrivance thatwas very effective, being a sort of spider or gridiron patterned afterthe shelf in most kitchen ranges. Jack had had it made by the localblacksmith, and when it was laid across two ridges of rock, betweenwhich the red coals lay, they could place the coffee-pot, a skillet andeven a kettle on the bars at the same time, without the constant dangerof upsetting that always exists where a camper tries to cook with only aresting place of stones for his various utensils.

  The others were busy at various duties when Josh was heard calling out,with a touch of authority in his voice, as became the chef, now placedin supreme command by reason of his exalted and important office.

  "Whoever took that grub I left over here by the tree, better bring itback again right away, and quit meddlin' if he wants me to exert myselfgetting supper ready."

  "What's that, Josh?" asked Jack, looking up from his work of fasteningthe lower rim of the tent to the pegs that had been driven securely intothe earth.

  "Why, you see, Jack," explained the other, lowering his aggressive voicea little when addressing the commodore, "I thought I'd make the fireover here till I saw you'd changed the position of the tent; and then Icrossed over to where she's burning cheerfully now. So I laid somethings down that I meant to cook for supper--two slices of that ham Icut off while afloat; a can of Boston baked beans, and part of the fishBuster hooked and that nearly got away with him. Now, mind you, I ain'tmentionin' any names, but some busybody's gone and took the entireoutfit, and hid it away. How d'ye think the cook c'n perform hiscalling, when they're playin' tricks on him like that, tell me?"

  There was a dead silence for about half a minute, while the boys lookedat each other questioningly.

  Then Buster raised his hand, and said, earnestly:

  "Not guilty, Jack, sure I never even saw the old ham; and ketch mea-playin' any tricks on the cook, and me that hungry I c'd eat any oldthing."

  One by one of the others, even to George, copied Buster's example,and solemnly denied having tried to annoy the hard-working Josh bypurloining the stuff he had laid out for the evening meal.

  "Must a mislaid it, that's what, Josh," declared Herb, consolingly."Sometimes my mind plays hob with me that way. Everybody get a move onand look for the grub. We just can't afford to have our goods floatingaround every-which-way right in the start. We've got to find it, that'swhat."

  "Hold on, before you get to running around wild," interrupted Jack, andsomehow when he spoke in that way it seemed as if all the other fellowsfelt as though Jack had conceived an idea, for he was always quick alongthose lines.

  "What's doing, Jack?" inquired Buster.

  "I want to ask Josh particularly where it was he laid that stuff out,"continued the other, impressively.

  "Why, just like I said, over ther by that clump of brush," the cookexplained, as he pointed in the quarter indicated.

  "On that flat stone, perhaps?" continued Jack.

  "Now, that was just what I did, Jack," Josh went on to say, "and whenI stepped over just now to get the stuff, why, it wasn't there. Iscratched my head, and tried to remember moving it, but I'd take myaffidavy that I never came back to get it till just now, after I got myfire good and ready. That's the way it was, Jack."

  "Wait a bit," remarked the other, as he started for the spot inquestion.

  They all watched him curiously. First he bent down, and sniffed of thestone.

  "He's smelling to see if the ham ever rested there, that's what,"declared Josh.

  "And now look at him on his hands and knees, alongside that flat stone,would you?" remarked Buster, wonderingly. "Whatever do you reckon Jack'sgot in his head, fellers?"

  "He's getting up now, and we'll know right soon, which is one comfort,"George observed.

  Jack beckoned them over, and as soon as they came running pell-mell, hewagged his head in a mysterious fashion, and pointed down to a spot nearhis feet.

  "That stuff didn't walk off on its own account, boys; if you look sharpyou'll see what did the little trick!" and as their eyes instantlyturned down toward the ground they saw the plain imprint of a great bigshoe there!