CHAPTER IV
IN DEEP WATER
The sun was well up over the eastern hills, shining down warm and mellowon Cardiff valley when Roger awoke next morning. At first he couldscarcely remember where he was, so many changes of location had he gonethrough lately. He looked at the old-fashioned wall paper, listened tothe rustling of the wind in the trees, and wondered if he was notdreaming. Then he gradually recalled the events of the day before. Hegot out of bed with a jump, and was dressing when Adrian came in.
"Hello, Roger," was the greeting, "how'd you sleep?"
"Fine," answered Roger.
Then Adrian looked at the clothes his cousin was putting on. It was thesame suit Roger had worn when he arrived.
"Oh, I say," exclaimed Adrian. "Don't tog out in these. We're goingfishing, you know, and you'll need your old duds to go through the woodswith. You'll spoil a good suit."
Then for the first time Roger realized that he didn't have to dress forschool. He remembered that he was not going to study his lessons, andhad only to go out into the air and sunshine, to listen to the birds,and to tramp through the fields. For the first time it came to himthat, even though he was not as well and strong as many other boys,there was a good time ahead of him, and a chance for him to become assturdy as Adrian.
"That's so, we are going fishing to-day," remarked Roger. "I'd forgottenall about it, I slept so soundly. I thought I was back in New York."
He made haste to replace his good suit with an older though serviceableone, which would stand hard usage. Then the two boys went down tobreakfast, which meal, Roger was sure, tasted even better than thesupper of the night previous.
"Wa'al, what's th' schedule fer t'-day?" asked Mr. Kimball, as he gulpeddown his second cup of coffee. "You boys goin' arter b'ar er mountainlions?"
"Are there bears in these woods?" inquired Roger, eagerly.
"Mussy sakes, no!" exclaimed Mrs. Kimball, "but 't wouldn't be yer UncleBert ef he did n't fool some un. Skunks 'n' squirrels, 'n' onct in awhile a wild-cat, is th' biggest beasts in these parts."
"Now, mother," began Mr. Kimball, his mouth half full of potato, "yeknow there is b'ars in th' woods. Didn't ye run away from one last fall,when ye were pickin' blackberries? Now, own up, did n't ye?"
"Oh, thet one," answered Mrs. Kimball, as she set a plate of buckwheatcakes in front of Roger. "He was th' tame b'ar thet got away from th'Italian organ grinder."
"Scared ye most int' a spasm, though," commented Mr. Kimball, laughingso heartily that he nearly choked on a piece of bread.
"Go along 'n' eat yer breakfust, 'n' git at th' chores," advised Mrs.Kimball, smiling a bit at the recollection of the incident.
"We're going over to Limestone creek, fishing," said Adrian. "GeorgeBennett was there yesterday and got fifteen chub."
"Got any bait?" asked Mr. Kimball.
"Going to dig some right away," replied Adrian, trying to make shortwork of the meal. Roger, too, was busy with the victuals.
"Now I don't know 'bout this," began Mr. Kimball with a grave air, incontrast to his former jolly tone. "Roger didn't come out here t' startright in 'n' tramp eight er ten miles, 'n' git all tired out. His mother'n' father wants him t' rest up, 'n' git lots a' fresh air. Now, Ade, Idon't know's I ought t' let you two go. What d' ye say, Roger?"
"I don't feel at all tired," answered the boy. "I am not sure I couldwalk eight miles, but--"
"It's less than two miles there, pop," broke in Adrian, "and, say, youneed n't worry, but I'll take care of Roger. We'll walk slow."
"I guess I can tramp as far as the creek," put in Roger, feeling alittle nettled that his physical ability should so often come up fordiscussion.
"Wa'al, all right," assented Mr. Kimball. "It's a nice day, 'n' I guessit won't hurt ye none. Look out ye don't fall in, that's all. It's deepnear th' hole where th' best fishin' is."
"We'll be careful," promised Adrian.
Breakfast over Adrian got out the fishing tackle and a spade with whichto dig the worms for bait. Roger was provided with a bamboo pole and thenecessary line, hooks, and sinkers. Then, when Adrian announced, afterspading a good-sized patch of the barnyard up, that they had bait enoughin the tin can, the two boys shouldered their poles and started off.
The way to the creek was along the main street of Cardiff, which ranthrough the centre of the village, up to the cross-road, that ledeastward to the town of Lafayette. At this point the path went west,twisting and turning along the highway, over the hills to Onondaga Lake,twenty miles away. This was the first glimpse Roger had of the hamlet ofCardiff, except for the hasty glances as he had passed through on thestage the evening before. There were not more than sixty houses in theplace, all comfortably close together, on the two sides of the mainstreet.
Here and there, spread out along other roads, were scattered farms, withbig, roomy, white houses and weather-stained barns and corn-cribs.
The boys passed over the little brook that ran across the road, justbeyond Adrian's home, the stream being spanned by a wooden bridge. Soonthey came to Hank Mack's general store, where you could buy a plow or ayard of red calico, a stick of candy or some gunpowder, a loaf of breador a salt mackerel. Then there was the blacksmith shop, in the door ofwhich stood Sam Bennett, and, next, the grist mill, kept by TruemWright, as jolly a chap as one would care to meet in the course of aday's travel. The last building, save some houses, before the boys cameto the turn of the road, was the public inn or tavern, which bore thename "The Pine Tree. Abe Crownheart, Proprietor," in big faded blueletters over the door.
It was still early in the day, but nearly all the people in Cardiffseemed to be up and about. The men and women whom Adrian met nodded orspoke to him, and glanced rather curiously at Roger, for strangers werenot common in town. A walk of half a mile brought the boys to thecross-road, and they went down that some distance before Adrianindicated the place where they were to cut across lots to reach thecreek. Through the fields they went, most of the land they foundthemselves travelling over having been given up to the raising of corn,which was now gathered in shocks, ready to be husked, leaving the heavybrown stubble sticking out of the earth.
"Don't know's we'll have much luck to-day," said Adrian, ratherdubiously, as he wet his finger and held it up in the air to note whichside felt coolest, and so determine the direction of the breeze.
"Why not?"
"South wind."
"What's that got to do with fishing?"
"Lots. Didn't you ever hear that? Why we never go fishing if the wind'ssouth. It wasn't there when we started, but I guess it shifted. There'sa verse that says: 'When the wind's in the west the fish bite best;when the wind's in the south it blows the hook out their mouth.' Butmaybe we'll get a few."
"I hope so, after all our work," said Roger.
"If I don't, it won't be the first time, for me," added Adrian, asthough to prepare for the worst.
They tramped for half a mile more, and then, turning down a well-beatenpath, Adrian led the way to an opening amid a grove of willow trees,along the edge of the creek. The stream, which was broad and deep here,curved around from a point, and formed an eddy that had eaten quite adistance into the bank. This eddy was used as a swimming hole by theboys of the village, but now the water was a little too cool for thatsport, so the fish were not disturbed in what Adrian knew was one oftheir favorite haunts.
It did not take long to rig the lines on the poles, bait the hooks, andcast in. Though Roger never had much chance to go fishing in the city,the necessity of keeping quiet was apparent to him, and he moved aboutas slowly and as easily as he could, standing in a place Adrian hadpointed out. Then he softly dropped the hook, with the wiggling,dangling worm, into the water. Adrian did likewise, and then the boysbegan to exercise that patience which all good fishermen are supposed tobe blessed with.
Roger felt a little tired from the tramp, and, after he had stood forseveral minutes, he ventured to sit down on a piece of drift-wood thatwas on the edge of the bank. Adrian, no
t feeling the strain of walking,preferred to stand. It was very quiet along the edge of the creek,screened as it was by the fringe of willows. Now and then a late-stayingbird, that had not yet flown south, darted in and out among the trees.The dried cornstalks rustled in the wind, and there was a pleasant smellin the air. Altogether it was a most delightful place to fish.
"I've got a bite," whispered Adrian, suddenly, and Roger noticed hiscousin's line trembling and shaking just where it entered the water."Watch me pull him out," went on Adrian softly.
The next instant he yanked his pole high in the air, and, dangling onthe end of the line, twisting and flopping so that its silvery sidesreflected the sun, was a good-sized fish. Roger leaped to his feet tosee the catch, which his cousin landed on the ground with a thud. Hestarted back to where the prize lay on the grassy bank, and then he feltsomething give way beneath him. He seemed to be falling down, and indesperation he clutched wildly at the air. He heard Adrian shouting, asthough he was miles away, and the next he knew the waters of the creekclosed above his head. A part of the bank where he had been sitting hadbroken off, and carried him into the stream with a splash of the deepwater.
Roger thought he would never stop sinking down and down into the pool,and, though at this point it was only about ten feet deep, the boyimagined it must be three times that. He had kept hold of the pole whenhe fell, and he dimly knew that his hands still grasped it as he triedto strike out and spring to the surface. It was black as night allaround him, and the waters roared and sang in his ears.
For a half minute Adrian was so frightened by his cousin's disappearancehe did not know what to do. He felt sure Roger would be drowned, and,already, he was charging himself with the responsibility for it.
Then a determination to save him came into the boy's mind. With a quickmotion he peeled off his coat, cast aside his cap, and, with his knife,rapidly slit the laces of his shoes, as the easiest and most expeditiousway of undoing them. He kicked the leathers from him, leaped to the edgeof the bank, and was about to dive into the water when he saw Roger'shead bob up.
"Don't be afraid!" called Adrian. "I'll save you!"
He poised for the spring, but, to his surprise, instead of seeing Rogerhelplessly floundering in the creek, he noticed that his cousin wascalmly treading water to keep himself afloat, for it was hard to swimweighed down by clothes and shoes.
"Look out! Here I come!" cried Adrian.
"D-don't d-don't," stuttered Roger, his teeth chattering. He was alittle out of breath. "I c-c-can get o-o-out a-all r-r-right! I was al-l-little s-s-surprised a-at first!"
"Roger held up the fish pole so that Adrian could graspit"]
Adrian noticed that his cousin was making his way slowly toward moreshallow water. When he got to a point half way to the bank Roger held upthe fish pole, so that Adrian could grasp it. The latter saw the idea atonce, and, with a quick motion, he took hold of the bamboo rod, andpulled his cousin along until it was an easy matter for the boy towalk out. Roger stepped on the shelving bank, below the swimming hole,dripping water like a big Newfoundland dog. His breathing was ratheruncertain, and his teeth chattered, for the water was cold.
"I thought at first you were a goner," said Adrian, grasping Roger'shand heartily. "I never imagined you could swim."
"I learned how in the free baths down at the Battery, in New York, wherewe fellows used to go Saturdays," explained Roger. "Only that's saltwater, and it's easier to keep afloat in than this. I wasn't scaredafter the first few seconds. It took me by surprise, and knocked thebreath out of me, that's all. I didn't know where I was for a littlewhile."
"I don't blame you," agreed Adrian. "Well, I guess that'll be about allthe fishing to-day," he went on. "You'd better hurry home with me, andget dry clothes on, so you won't catch cold. If it was July instead ofOctober it wouldn't matter so much. So come on; let's run for it."
They started off across the fields at a smart trot, and soon reached theroad. They got there just as a man came along, driving a light wagon.
"It's Enberry Took, who lives right below us," explained Adrian. "He'llgive us a lift. Hey, Enberry!"
"Whoa!" exclaimed the man in the wagon, pulling the horse up. "Beenfishin', boys, or swimmin'?" he asked as he looked at Roger drippingwater, and at the solitary fish Adrian carried. Then Mr. Took smiledgrimly, perhaps suspecting what had happened.
"We've been doing a little of both," explained Adrian. "Can we ride homewith you, Enberry? This is my cousin, Roger, from New York. He's here ona visit."
"Hop in," invited Mr. Took, shortly, and, when the two boys were settledin the bottom of the wagon, he whipped up his horse, which trotted overthe ground in good shape. Almost before Roger and Adrian knew it theywere at the gate of their house, greatly surprising Mrs. Kimball andamusing her husband, who laughed heartily when he learned there was noharm done.
"You'll make out all right," he said to Roger, as the boy went to changehis wet clothes for dry ones; "you've got a level head on yourshoulders, even if ye do live in New York. I'm proud on ye, thet's whatI am; I'm proud on ye, Roger."
The White Crystals: Being an Account of the Adventures of Two Boys Page 4
