RIVERMEN WITH A THIRST
"A lost channel and a lost boat! Still if we didn't have adventures
just like this, we'd be contented to remain on the South Branch in
Chicago," said Case. "It wouldn't have been any fun if we had passed
up the St. Lawrence without getting dumped on the sand."
"Say, kid," Jule said, pointing to Alex, "do you think you can swim
over to the shore?"
"Swim over yourself!" advised Alex. "What do you want me to swim over
for?"
"To get timber to block up this boat so you can cook dinner," laughed
Jule. "We can't live on the sand which is here--that's a pun, eh?"
"What have we got for dinner?" Clay asked, ignoring the pun. "Perhaps
I'd better go aboard and look over our larder."
"If you want to know where I'm going to get my dinner," Alex observed,
"just look down into the river. Those fish look pretty good to me, and
I'm hungry enough to eat a whale."
"If the time ever comes when you're not hungry," Case cut in, "the sun
will rise in the west. You're empty to your heels."
"And I'm glad of it, too," Alex shouted back. "But what I want to
know," he continued, "is how we're ever going to get off this bar."
"If we stay right here," Case advised, "some boat will come along and
pull us off. You don't have to do anything unless you want to."
But at that moment there were no boats in sight. Instead, a great raft
of hewn timbers with a rough shanty in the middle of it came drifting
down. Half a dozen river men ran to the edge of the float and eyed the
_Rambler_ keenly. They seemed amused at what had happened.
"Ship ahoy!" one of them called.
"Give us a rope," Jule shouted.
"Got anything on board?" the man called back.
"What do you mean by anything?" Jule asked.
"Oh, anything under a cork!" answered the other.
"Row over here with a couple of cases and we'll pay you for them,"
said another voice.
"What do you take this for, a floating saloon?" asked Alex.
"That's what!" came back over the water. "If you don't send over
something, we'll come and get it."
"Now that's a nice proposition," Case said to Clay. "Here we get
turned almost bottom-side up on a sand bar, and a lot of wops think
we're bartenders and have whiskey to sell."
"We ought not to let them on the bar at all," Alex advised. "If they
get here and can't find what they want, they're liable to take
anything they can get their hands on. I'm for pulling out the guns and
spattering a little lead over the water."
"Are you going to send it over?" called the man from the raft.
"Go take a drink out of the river!" advised Jule.
"I'll show you whether we will or not!"
All this time the raft had been drifting down stream, and the
_Rambler_ had, of course, remained stationary. As the man uttered this
implied threat, he cast off the line of a boat, motioned to two men
who stood near, and the three entered and began rowing toward the sand
bar.
"We'll overtake you in a half an hour," the man who had done most of
the talking from the raft called out to his companions, "and we'll
bring back something cheering if it is to be had on that boat."
"About the only thing you'll get on this boat," Case shouted, "will be
bullets. If you don't sheer away, you'll get a volley right now."
The men stopped rowing and backed water as the boys drew their
automatics and stood in a row at the edge of the bar.
"Aw, come on kids, give us a couple of cases and we'll go on our way.
We're going to get it anyhow."
"There isn't a drop of intoxicating liquor on board," Clay assured the
man. "This is not a bumboat. We're just boys out on a pleasure trip."
"That's what they all say!" roared a husky brute from the fast
disappearing raft. "Go on, Steve, and get the goods."
"You bet I will!" answered the raftsman, and again the men bent to
their oars. Clay fired a warning shot and the boat paused again for a
moment.
"Will you send us a case?" shouted the leader of the boat party.
"Send you a case of cartridges!" laughed Alex.
Two of the men now turned to the oars in order to keep the boat from
drifting farther down, while the leader sat close to their seat,
saying something to them in a low tone. The two oarsmen were shaking
their heads, but the other was beating one hand against the other
vigorously.
"I know," the boys heard him say, raising his voice as he became
excited "that that is the same boat, and that these are the same boys.
You remember what I told you when I came up the river on a fast boat
and hired out on the raft!"
The boys could not hear the reply, but presently the leader's voice
sounded again above the wash of the river. He was evidently under
great excitement, and was speaking rapidly and vehemently.
"There is more value in that motor boat," he said, "than there is in
the whole raft. What does it matter if the timber does float down
without us? We've got a boat and can put up any old yarn that comes to
mind."
The rowers still seemed to object to the plan the leader seemed to be
urging, and finally the boat was allowed to drift down with the
current.
"This old world is a pretty small place after all," Clay remarked as
the stern of the rowboat disappeared around a little bend. "If you
don't believe it, just consider the events of this trip. We meet Max
on the river and he laps over on us at Quebec. We meet outlaws on a
rocky island three hundred miles away, and they show themselves at the
mouth of the Jacques Cartier river."
"And we're likely to meet them again, unless I'm very much mistaken,"
Case warned. "I don't believe they went down after the raft at all."
"What was that you said about swimming over to the shore?" asked Alex.
"To get a fish for dinner," Jule cried.
Alex dashed into the cabin, tumbled about in the wreckage for a short
time, and came out clad only in a bathing suit.
"I'm going to swim to shore all right," he said, "but I'm not going
over there to get a fish for dinner."
"If you see one, catch him by the tail," Case shouted as the boy
entered the water.
Alex wrinkled a bruised nose in the direction of the sand bar and
dived under, to reappear on the shore line a couple of seconds later.
"Now, what do you think that little monkey is after?" asked Jule.
Captain Joe and Teddy seemed to be asking themselves the same
question. At any rate, they decided to go and see, and both were soon
in the water. The boys saw Alex race up a sandy bluff and disappear in
a thicket.
Here and there on the other side of the river were scattered houses,
but he seemed to pay no attention to these. The animals trotted after
him and soon all were out of sight. The boy was gone only a short time
and when he returned on board and dressed his face looked anxious.
"Do you know," he said, "those fellows never went down the river at
all. They dropped down under the bend and landed. If we don't get off
this sand bar this afternoon, we'll have to sit up all night waiting
for trouble."
"Then we'll get off this afternoon," Case observed. "I'm so
constituted that I have to have my sleep regularly."
"Keep me awake nights if you want to," laughed Alex, "but don't let me
go hungry! I was reared a pet and can't stand it."
There were now various crafts in sight on the river, but none came
near the bar. Signals made by the boys met with no response.
"They are a suspicious lot of fellows," Clay decided.
After several vessels had passed without paying any attention to the
shouts and signals of the boys, they gave up trying to secure
immediate assistance and devoted themselves to the preparation of
dinner--to the great joy of Captain and the eminent disgust of Teddy,
the cub, who had certainly eaten too much honey.
The cabin was indeed in bad shape, standing at an angle of about
thirty degrees. Many of the dishes were broken, and some of the food
which had been cooked in the morning lay in a messy heap on the floor.
However, the boys managed to boil coffee and cook eggs, and so, with
bread and butter and canned food, they made a very good meal.
"Now, what are we going to do?" asked Jule. "We can never get this
boat off alone, and the vessels on the river won't help us."
"I wonder if the tide doesn't come up here?" asked Clay.
"If it does, it was not far from high tide when we struck the sand
bar," Jule replied, "and the situation will grow worse instead of
better."
"Let's get out our shovels and dig a canal to the river," Case
suggested. "We can't play any Robinson Crusoe stunt here very long."
"And the bold, bad men from the raft will be down on us to-night if we
stay," Alex added, "so I'm for doing anything to get off the bar."
The boys were actually preparing to dig a trench across the bar when a
steamer to which they called more as a matter of form than with any
expectation of receiving assistance, turned toward their side of the
river and slowed down.
"Hello, there, boys," came a voice from the bridge. "You must have
been having a head-on collision with a sand bar."
"Why," Clay exclaimed, "that's Captain Morgan! What was it I was
saying about this being a pretty small world?"
"Right you are, Captain," called Case. "We're up against it all right.
Can you send us a line?"
"Certainly," answered the captain. "I'll have you out of that in no
time."
And he did! The line was sent in a rowboat, attached to the prow of
the _Rambler_ and slowly, steadily, so as not to strain the timbers or
produce cracks in the hull, the motor boat was drawn from her
uncomfortable position, practically uninjured. Clay was soon grasping
the captain by the hand. The other boys shouted their greetings and
remained on board to tidy up the _Rambler_.
"Young man," Captain Morgan said, "if I had a hundred boys, and the
whole mess of them, combined and individual, got into as many scrapes
as you four kids do, I'd keep them under lock and key!"
"You'd miss a lot of fun if you did," said Clay.
"When you get a hold of a nice, choice mess of boys, like the
_Rambler_ crew, you want to give them plenty of room and fresh air.
They'll come out all right!"
"You do, at any rate," admitted the captain. "Let's see," he added,
"what was it you were going to find when I left you? A lost channel or
something like that? You didn't find it, did you?"
"We found a scrap, and a lot of ruffians, and a friend," Clay replied,
"and that's all we did find, but we haven't given it up."
"And that's all you ever will find," declared the captain. "There may
be a lost channel somewhere in the world. In fact, there is one on the
New York side up near the big lake, but I'm afraid you are wasting
your time. Why don't you come on down the river with me?"
"That would never do," Clay replied. "When we left the delta of the
Mississippi, we promised ourselves that we would look over every inch
of the St. Lawrence, and we're going to do it. We're going to Lake
Ontario and then back to find the lost channel. And after that, we're
going to return to Ogdensburg and ship the _Rambler_ to little old
Chicago. That is, unless we decide to sail up the lakes."
"Well, good luck to you," said Captain Morgan, as Clay passed down the
side of the _Sybil_. "If I get tangled up with a lost channel
anywhere, I'll send it to you by parcel post. Why, you boys can make a
lost channel easier than you can find one."
"But it wouldn't be half so much fun," Clay said, stepping into the
rowboat. "We're having lots of sport on the St. Lawrence all the
same!"