confidently, that at last Pat’s fears began to yield. Phil showed him
that he couldn’t possibly have the leprosy yet, and assured him that
he wasn’t going to have it. Finally, he told him the story of the most
famous of all lepers--Naaman the Syrian. From this story he proved
so conclusively that there were some kinds of leprosy that were not
contagious, that Pat hadn’t a word to say. The story produced a profound
and most beneficial effect upon Pat’s mind.
“Sure an I niver thought of him before. Why didn’t I think of ould
Naymin? An him the chafe gineral of the Misaypytamyins, so he was. Sure
an there wer nothin contagious in that leprosy. The leper Naymin! Sure
an what a fool I wor niver to think of the leper Naymin!”
XX.
_Fish for Breakfast.--The Cottage and the Schooner.--A familiar
Sight.--The old Boat.--Sinking in deep Waters.--An exciting and amazing
Meeting.--The Flag.--Bart on the Road.--A strange Discovery.--A fresh
Surprise._
THE happy suggestion of Phil brought infinite relief to Pat; and the
story of Naaman the Syrian had sufficient power over him to dispel his
fears, and restore his olden peace of mind. So great was the reaction
now, that he went to the other extreme; and being of a very excitable
and volatile temperament, he exhibited a joy as immoderate as his grief
had been but a short time before. He made Phil tell him all about his
adventures; and as he listened to all the dangers through which his
friend had gone, his warm Irish heart overflowed with the truest
sympathy, and he followed the story with a running accompaniment of
ejaculations of the most animated character. As for his own story, he
had already told it; but there yet remained the tale of his flight in
the woods. This he confessed without reservation, and informed Phil that
he had been wandering in the woods all day, and had stumbled out upon
the road only about an hour ago. He had seen no houses, and had met no
people. This information at once changed Phil’s plans. If Pat had seen
no inhabitants after an hour’s walk, it was clearly useless for him to
go any farther that day. He was worn out with the exertions that he had
made, and longed for rest. Pat also confessed that he was on the borders
of starvation, and was too tired to go any farther. Upon this, they both
resolved to remain here for the night.
It was now somewhat late in the day, but not too late to preclude the
possibility of catching some fish for supper. On Phil’s suggesting this,
Pat received it with an enthusiasm that was altogether like his old
self; and as there was no time to lose, they at once set out in search
of a brook. Pat remembered passing one not more than half a mile from
this place; so they proceeded in this direction, which was the same
in which Phil had been going. Pat’s story had served to give him some
general idea of his whereabouts. Pat had been at Tracadie; and though he
had lost his way, yet there was every reason to believe that they were
now not very far away from that place, on the shore of the Gulf of St.
Lawrence, and most probably to the northward; for though Pat did not
know exactly his position, yet he was sure that he must have come out of
the woods farther north than Tracadie.
After about a half mile’s walk they reached a brook and began to fish.
Their success was not brilliant, but any fish at all were very welcome
at such a time; and the half dozen or so which they succeeded in hooking
were regarded by them as capable of affording a repast which a king
might envy. They soon had a fire burning, and broiled the fish on the
coals, and thus made their dinner. Among the woods here they found a
district which had escaped the ravages of the fire, and here they passed
the night. They went to rest a little after sundown, and awoke the next
morning before day. They then made a breakfast off the remains of their
evening’s repast, and were ready for a start.
There was no question now as to the route which they should take. Pat
had been walking in a direction the very opposite of that in which Phil
had been going, but he had no desire now to persist in it. Then he felt
himself to be a victim of one of the most cruel fates that can befall
mankind, and was seeking to fly from it, anywhere, no matter where. Now,
however, thanks to Phil, and to Naaman, he felt himself to be a victim
no longer, and was anxious to get back to the place where Bart was or
might be. He felt also a kind of pride arising from the fact that he had
been the first one to find Phil; and the pride was quite as strong as
it would have been if he had found Phil by his own actual efforts. The
circumstances under which their meeting had taken place he dismissed
from his mind, and chose rather to dwell upon the fact that his
confidence in Phil’s ability to take care of himself had been completely
vindicated. So now, on that morning, as they renewed their walk, there
remained in Pat’s mind not a vestige of his foolish fears; but instead
of them there was a sense of triumph, a consciousness of superior merit,
and a sweet anticipation of the glory that would now be his, as he
brought back Phil in safety.
Their frugal repast did not occupy many minutes, and the sun had not yet
risen when they started. They were eager to go on, and so they walked at
a rapid pace. The road was a very primitive one, and had they been in
a carriage, their progress would have been rough and slow; but on foot
they were able to avoid the deep ruts and numerous irregularities, and
make a very good progress indeed. After about an hour, they came within
sight of a harbor. They had been for some time out of sight of the sea,
and this prospect filled them with the hope that they were not very
far from Tracadie. To Pat, the sight of the harbor gave very strong
recollections of that place. The water was very smooth, and seemed like
a lake. A long, narrow strip of land separated the harbor from the outer
sea, and the general appearance of the place was very much like that of
the “leper wather” in which Pat had bathed. As they advanced towards
it, the sun rose; and as the glorious orb ascended from the ocean, their
whole sight was filled with the splendor of his appearance.
Looking now upon the scene before them, they saw at last the signs
of man. On the shore was a small cottage, and near the shore, in the
harbor, was a small schooner. These were both only a short distance
away, and to these they hastened. On reaching the cottage they went up
to it, but to their great disappointment found that it was deserted and
in ruins. The door was gone, and it seemed as though it had not been
inhabited for some time.
“We’ve got to go on further,” said Pat. “There must be more houses
further on.”
“I wish we could find out where we are,” said Phil. “I wonder if any one
is on board of that schooner.”
Saying this, he cast longing eyes upon the schooner before mentioned.
It was anchored in front of the cottage, not far away from the shore. It
was a small vessel, and somewhat shabby, and behind it there was a boat
floating in the water.
“It looks as if there was some one on board,” said Pat. “They’ve got the
boat there!”
“I wish I could go and ask them where we are,” said Phil; and saying
this, he walked towards the beach.
As he did so he saw a boat upon the beach. It was old and dilapidated,
like the house to which it seemed to belong. No sooner had he seen it,
than he was struck by the thought that he might manage to get to the
schooner by means of this; so he began to examine it very narrowly. It
was very clumsily constructed, and looked more like a box than a boat;
but it was strong, and though dilapidated, it still looked as though it
might float for the short distance that separated the schooner from the
shore.
“I’ll try it,” said Phil.
“Thry what?” asked Pat.
“Why, I’ll go out to the schooner in this boat.”
“How’ll we row her?” said Pat. “We haven’t any oars.”
“Well, in the first place, it can’t hold more than one; so you’ll have
to stay, unless you want to go very particularly.”
“Niver a bit do I,” said Pat. “I’m not brakin my heart about it, so I
ain’t. I’ll stay an welcome.”
“Then I’ll go,” said Phil, “and you wait. I’ll have to get something
though, that’ll do for an oar.”
Saying this, he went back to the house, and looked about for some time.
At length he found a pole lying near the well, and taking this, he went
back to the boat. Pat and he then pushed it from the shore into the
water. It floated.
“Hurrah!” said Phil. “It’ll carry me out that far any way.”
“Sure an don’t ye see the wather, how it’s rowlin an rushin in?” cried
Pat.
Phil looked, and saw that the boat was, indeed, anything but
water-tight, for the water was oozing in through numerous cracks and
crevices.
“It’ll take me out that far,” said he; and with these words he jumped
into the boat, and thrusting the pole into the ground, he pushed her
off.
Pat stood watching his movements with great interest.
Phil pushed for some time, thrusting his pole down to the bottom, and
made excellent progress. In this way he reached a point more than half
way to the schooner. Here, however, it grew too deep, and he had to use
the pole as a paddle. It was but a clumsy instrument for this purpose,
and his progress was but slow; still he managed to draw nearer to his
destination, and worked with commendable diligence. But unfortunately
there was something more to be considered than mere progress forward,
and that was the condition of the boat itself. For while Phil was
gaining on the schooner, the water was gaining on him. By the time that
he had reached half way, the water was over his ankles. Had his progress
continued at the same rate, he might have reached the schooner without
any very great inconvenience; but as it was, the water rushed in faster
and faster, and in spite of his efforts he began to fear that he would
not reach his destination. Fortunately for him, the schooner happened to
be lying with her stern towards the shore, and the schooner’s boat was
thus brought nearer to him. This materially lessened the distance to be
traversed. He now sought to reach the schooner’s boat. He paddled with
desperate efforts, and as he paddled the water rose higher. At length
he found himself within reach of the schooner’s boat; he flung out his
pole, and sought to pull it nearer. As he did so the boat began to sink
under him. The water rose to his knees. At that instant the schooner’s
boat was within reach, and flinging himself forward, he half scrambled,
half tumbled into it.
Then quite out of breath, he sat down, and rested for a moment, while
the boat by which he had come slowly drifted off. At this moment a shout
of joy came from Pat, who had been watching the proceedings with intense
interest.
But Phil’s movements had not been unnoticed on board the schooner; and,
indeed, he had made noise enough to rouse any who might be there. He was
not surprised, therefore, when he heard movements on board, and voices,
and footsteps. So he looked up, without rising, so as to see those on
board, who might be moving.
Phil had not been surprised at the sound of movements on board; but he
was very greatly surprised, indeed, at the sight of the person who met
his eyes.
As he looked up some one advanced to the stern and looked down upon
him. It was an aged person, with a mild face, and a gracious eye, and a
benevolent smile. He wore a pea-jacket, and his head was covered with a
souwester. It was a face the sight of which almost made Phil bound out
of the boat.
While this person excited such emotions in the breast of Phil, his own
emotions at the sight of Phil were no less strong. There he was, in the
schooner’s boat, with no visible means by which his appearance there
could be explained. The person in the schooner, therefore, stared at
Phil, and then removing his hat with one hand, with the other hand he
thoughtfully scratched his venerable head, and then slowly ejaculated,--
“Go-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-d thunder!”
“Captain Corbet!” exclaimed Phil, in indescribable amazement.
And then they both stared at each other in silence.
But the silence was soon broken. Footsteps were heard, and soon one
after another heads appeared, and then bodies, and then the new comers
stood by the side of Captain Corbet, staring over the stern at Phil in
mute astonishment.
And Phil stared back at them all in astonishment fully equal to their
own.
It was Bruce Bawdon!
And Arthur!
And Tom!
As for Phil, he could not utter a word. Nor could the others on board
the schooner.
But Pat, the excited watcher on the shore--Pat had seen it all, and
he was anything but mute. Mute? He howled. He yelled. He vociferated
unintelligible volleys of frantic exclamations, addressed to each by
turns. Then words failed, and he began to dance.
At length Phil pulled the boat up, and scrambled on board the schooner,
and was seized by all the boys in turn, and overwhelmed with questions;
while he, on his part, overwhelmed them with questions quite as eager
and quite as numerous.
Their story was soon told. They had left at the time mentioned by Bruce
in his letter to Bart, and had been cruising along the coast of the Gulf
of St. Lawrence. They had arrived here the day before, and as they were
in no hurry, they had anchored for the night, with the intention of
doing a little fishing. Their place of rendezvous was Shippegan, which
was not far away, and they had a week to spare as yet. They had no idea
that Bart would leave so much before the time, and could not understand
how Phil had found them.
Phil’s story was soon told; for, as he was a modest boy, he did not
dwell upon his own adventures to anything like the extent which I have
done; and so they learned that their meeting was purely accidental, and
that Phil had been lost, and had found Pat, who had been lost also,
and that these two lost ones had stumbled upon them here, in Tracadie
lagoon.
All of which elicited wonder, and laughter, and shouts, and no end of
eager questions, and excited exclamations. In the midst of this Tom
rushed off, and by way of giving proper expression to the feelings which
agitated them all, he brought forth the flag of the B. O. W. C. from the
cabin of the Antelope, where, strangely enough, it had been left since
their last voyage; and in a few minutes he had hoisted it aloft, where
it fluttered, and floated, and waved triumphantly in the fresh morning
breeze.
And now Phil thought of Pat, and mentioned that he was upon the shore;
whereupon Bruce rushed to the boat to go for him. As he leaped in, Phil
and the others looked towards the place where Pat had been standing, and
saw a wagon and two persons, a boy and a man, talking with Pat.
Now, you know, that very morning Bart had left along with the priest,
on his way to the north, to carry on his search after Phil. It was
early when they left, but as the road was rough, their progress was not
particularly rapid. Still they did make some progress, and in process
of time they reached the place where the schooner lay anchored. This
schooner excited Bart’s attention, for there was something in her
general appearance that was strangely familiar. As they drew nearer they
saw a number of figures on the deck, running to and fro, and giving all
possible signs of the greatest possible excitement. Suddenly, in the
midst of this, he saw a flag ascend, and float in the breeze. It
was dark in color, and of a nondescript character, and at first its
emblazonment was not distinctly visible. Soon, however, he came near
enough to see it. Then the whole thing was disclosed.
It was the well-known flag--his flag--the flag that had waved over the
most memorable events of his life--the flag of the B. O. W. C.!
The thing was astonishing, yet not incomprehensible. He saw that the
Antelope had probably been cruising about these waters on her way to
Shippegan. He saw that he had come upon her in an amazing manner; but
what seemed incomprehensible was the excitement on her deck. What
was the cause, and what did it mean? It could not be that they had
recognized him, and had done this in honor of his arrival. No; it must
be something else.
He said nothing to the priest, but sat filled with excitement, waiting
till they should come near. In this way they approached the old
house, and beside the shore he saw a figure dancing, jumping, yelling,
shouting, waving his cap, and indulging in a thousand fantastic
gestures.
This figure was Pat.
The wagon stopped, and Bart jumped out, followed by the priest. In a
few minutes Bart understood all. First of all, Phil had been found;
secondly, he was on board the schooner, and the excitement was about
him; and thirdly, Pat claimed the honor of discovering Phil.
In the midst of this a boat approached the shore, and soon Bruce Rawdon
stood before them, giving them an uproarious welcome. The arrival of
Bart had given a new turn to the excitement of the occasion, and they
all went off to the schooner, accompanied by the priest, who entered
most heartily into the spirit of the joyous scene.
XXI.
_Where is Solomon?--The Search.--The aged
Wanderer.--Recognition.--Boating.--Fishing.--Cooking.--Swimming.--The
Preparations for the Banquet.--The savory Smell.--Solomon dances a
Breakdown, and makes a Speech._
THEIR joy was long and uproarious. Innumerable were the questions which
they asked each other; but at length they succeeded in gathering from
the confusion a general idea of the fortunes of each member of the
party.
And then, in the midst of their joy, there came a mournful thought. It
was the thought that one was yet missing out of their number, and that
his fate was involved in mystery.
Where was Solomon?
Pat knew nothing more than any of the rest of them, and his story only
served to show that after leading Solomon astray, he had left him in the
midst of the forest. Where he now was, none could tell; but all saw
the necessity of doing something; and so, when Bart proposed that they
should go in search of him, they all assented most eagerly. The priest
still saw that they would require his assistance, and offered to take
them where they wished to go; while Captain Corbet felt such intense
interest in the fate of his aged friend, that he insisted on making one
of the party, and bringing Mr. Wade as an additional recruit.
Some preliminaries had to be attended to before they were able to
start, among which the first was to get themselves ashore. This was
accomplished in two trips; after which the boat was hauled up on the
beach, and tied to a tree. Then the priest had to see to the well-being
of his horse, which he did by leaving his wagon behind the house, and
letting the horse go free in the meadow.
After this the priest gave them some general advice as to their
proceedings. He reminded them of their former mishaps, and in order to
guard against their losing the way, he advised them to go on in a line,
keeping always within sound of one another, if not in sight. This they
all promised to do, and made no objection, for their recent various
adventures in the way of wandering had deeply impressed their minds.
At length they all started, as follows:--
The Priest,
Captain Corbet,
Mr. Wade,
Bruce,
Arthur,
Bart,
Tom,
Phil,
Pat.
The priest led the way, and leaving the road close by the old house,
they went straight into the woods. Soon the forest grew thick, and as
they went on, they saw that here no signs of the fire were visible,
though how far the green, unburnt forest might extend, none of them
could know. This, however, did not trouble them in the slightest, but
obeying the priest’s injunction and keeping well within hearing of one
another, the whole party went forward after their leader.
About two hours after they had disappeared in the woods, a solitary
pedestrian might have been seen slowly wending his way along the road
that leads to Tracadie. He was rather elderly, and walked slowly. His
hat was sadly battered, his hair was grizzled, and his face was of that
complexion which usually denotes the man of African descent.
As this wanderer approached the place where the schooner was anchored,
his pace quickened, and he walked onward quite rapidly until he reached
the old house. Towards this he walked, but only to discover that it
was ruined and deserted. Upon this the aged wanderer heaved a sigh, and
seating himself in the doorway, gazed intently at the schooner.
As he gazed he suddenly seemed struck by some very exciting thought. He
raised his head, still sitting, and stared for a moment most intently
at the schooner. At that moment, the flag, which had been drooping,
suddenly shook itself out, and unfolded to his astonished gaze the
escutcheon of the B. O. W. C. .
At this the aged wanderer bounded up to his feet, and rushed down to the
shore. There he stood in silence for a time, staring at the schooner,
until at length his recognition of her was complete. Whereupon he
slapped both hands on his thighs, jumped up in the air, came down on his
right foot, went up again, came down on his left, wheeled about, turned
about, and, in fact, indulged in a regular breakdown.
After this he stopped, and burst forth into long, loud, vehement, and
uproarious peals of laughter.
After which he resumed the breakdown.
And then, once more, the laughter.
Finally, he began to bawl to the schooner.
“Ship, ahoy! Hi yah! Hollo dar! What you bout? Hi-i-i-i ya-a-a-a-a-ah!
Mas’r Bruce! Mas’r Atta! Mas’r Tom! Yep. Ye-e-e-e-e-e-p!”
But as he called, no answer came, and no matter how loud his voice was,
or how eager his cry, still no response whatever was elicited.
“De sakes!” he exclaimed, “ef dis yar casium don’t beat all
creation! Wonda what dey’ll say to see ole Solomon! Dey’re all off,
suah--fishin--course. An it ain’t a mite ob good to be standin heah
yellin my ole head off. Wonda if dey had a boat!”
Saying this, he looked up and down the shore, and saw the boat a little
distance off on his right, drawn up and tied to a tree. The oar was
inside.
So intent had he been on the schooner, that he had not looked about the
house, and so had not seen the wagon which was behind it, or the horse
which was placidly feeding at no great distance off. But if he had seen
them, they would have had no interest for him, except so far as they
showed that people were using the house, and that the owner of the horse
would be back in the course of the day; and even the interest of this
discovery would have been nothing in comparison with the sight of the
Antelope. For this showed him that some of the boys were here, and
could not be far off, and would probably be back before dark. With
this conviction, Solomon proceeded to launch the boat--a task which he
accomplished with little difficulty; after which he sculled the boat out
to the schooner, and in a short time stood on board.
Arriving here, he had a full confirmation of his suppositions. It was,
indeed, the Antelope, and there was no one on board. By the signs
all around, he perceived that they could not have been gone long.
Bed-clothes lay carelessly tossed about, trunks were open, provisions
were lying on the boxes that had served for temporary tables.
It was with a sentiment of affectionate recognition that Solomon gazed
upon the old cooking-stove, at which he had frequently officiated on
former occasions, which had been impressed upon his memory by events
of such thrilling character. Over that stove he had been bowed by the
weight of heavy responsibilities, and upon it he had achieved some of
the brightest triumphs of his life. He gazed upon it long and lovingly.
He was pained to see the rust that covered it. He touched it, and with
loving hands he tried to rub the rust off one of the griddles. Alas!
he could not. That rust had fixed itself there too deeply to be easily
erased. So he gave up the attempt, and wandered back to the deck, where
he stood looking all around for some signs of the ship’s company.
No signs, however, appeared, and Solomon now began to consider how he
ought to pass the day. First of all, he decided to make things look
comfortable. To this task he set himself, rolling up the mattresses,
putting the trunks and boxes on one side, cleaning the stove as well as
it could be cleaned, and arranging the confused medley of stores which
they had brought with them. At length this task was ended, and it was
about noon.