IN WHICH WE ARE CASTAWAYS
The rain came down dismally, and the chill of the night was very
considerable, as I learned soon after ceasing my own exertions. The
men made some sort of shelter for themselves by turning up the long
boat and the dingey on edge, crawling into the lee, and thus finding a
little protection. All but John, my cook. That calm personage, every
time I turned, was at my elbow in the dark, standing silent, waiting
for I knew not what. For the first time, I realized the virtue of his
waterproof silk shirt. He seemed not to mind the rain, although he
asked my consent to put his bundle and his book under the shelter. I
stooped down at the firelight, curious to see the title of his book.
It was familiar--_The Pirate's Own Book_!
"Where you catchee book, John?" I asked him.
"Litlee boy he give me; him 'Melican book. I lead him some. Plenty
good book."
"Yes," said I; "I see. That boy'll make pirates of us all, if we
aren't careful."
"That book, him tellee what do, sposee bad storm," said John proudly.
"I know."
I walked over to where Peterson lay, his pipe now lighted by some
magic all his own. We now could see more plainly the furred and yellow
gleam of the lighthouse lamp. Peterson's concern, however, was all for
the _Belle Helene_.
"I hate to think of her out there all by herself," said he.
"So do I, Peterson. I hate also to think of all that ninety-three we
left out there."
We were standing near the edge of the ladies' shelter, and I heard
Mrs. Daniver's voice as she put out her head at the edge of the
tarpaulin.
"I thought you said all the ninety-three was gone," said she with some
interest, as it appeared to me.
"No, we only had the last bottle of that case at luncheon, Mrs.
Daniver," said I. "There are yet other cases out yonder."
"It's a bad night for neuralgia," said she complainingly.
"It is, madam. But I don't think I'll pull out again. And I am
rejoiced that you are not troubled now with seasickness,--that you
never are." Which last resulted in her dignified silence.
Through the night, there came continually the clamoring of the wild
fowl in the lagoon back of us, and this seemed to make the boys
restless. It was Jean Lafitte, next, who poked his head out from under
the tarpaulin.
"I've got the gun all right," said he, "and a lot of shells. In the
morning we'll go out and get some of those ducks that are squawking."
"Yes, Jean," said I; "we're in one of the best ducking countries on
this whole coast."
"That's fine--we can live chiefly by huntin' and fishin', like it says
in the g'ographies."
"If the wind should shift," said I, "we may have to do that for quite
a time. I don't know whether the lighthouse keeper has a boat or not,
and the channel lies between us and the light--it makes out here
straight to the Gulf. But now, be quiet, my sons, and see if we can't
all get some sleep. I'll take care of the fire."
I passed a little apart to hunt for some driftwood, my shadow, John,
following close at hand. When I returned I found a muffled figure
standing at the feeble blaze. Helena raised her eyes, grave and
serious.
"It was splendid," said she in a low tone of voice, addressing not so
much myself as all the world, it seemed to me.
"Get back in there and go to sleep," said I. And, quietly she obeyed,
so far as I might tell.
For my own part, I did not seek the shelter of the other boat, but,
wrapped in sweater and slicker, stood in the rain, John at my side.
Once in a while we set out in the dark to find more wood for the
little fire. In some way the long night wore on. Toward morning the
rain ceased. It seemed to me that the rocking search-light of the
_Belle Helene_ made scarce so wide an arc across the bay. The
lighthouse ray shone less furry and yellow through the night. The wind
began to lull, coming in gusts, at times after some moments of calm.
The roll of the sea still came in, but sometimes I almost fancied that
the surf was bellowing not so loud. And so at length, the dawn came,
softening the gloom, and I could hear the roar of the great bodies of
wild fowl rising as they always do at dawn, the tumult of their wings
rivaling the heavy rhythm of the surf itself.
The advancing calm of nature seemed to quiet the senses of the
sleepers, even in their sleep. Gently making up the fire for the last
time, as the gray light began to come across the beach, I wandered
inland a little way in search of the fresh water lagoon. Its edge lay
not more than two or three hundred yards back of our bivouac. So, as
best I might, I bathed my face and hands, and regretted that such
things as soap and towels had been forgotten with many other things.
Not irremediable, our plight; for now I could see the _Belle Helene_
still rolling at her anchor, uneasy, but still afloat; and in the
daylight, and with a lessening sea, there would be no great difficulty
in boarding her as we liked.
Presently the others of the party were all afoot, standing stiffly,
sluggishly, in the chill of dawn; and such was the breakfast which my
boy John presently prepared for us, that I confess I began to make
comparisons not wholly to his discredit. Now, for instance, said I to
myself, had it been Mrs. Daniver who had been forgotten on board
ship--but, of course, that line of reasoning might not be followed
out. And as for Mrs. Daniver herself, it was only just to say that she
made a fair attempt at comradeship, considering that she had retired
without any aid whatever for her neuralgia. Helena seemed reticent.
The men, as usual, ate apart. I did not find myself loquacious. Only
my two young ruffians seemed full of the enjoyment possible in such a
situation.
"Gee! ain't this fine?" said L'Olonnois. "I never did think we'd be
really shipwrecked and cast away on a desert island. This is just
like it is in the books."
"Can we go huntin' now?" demanded Jean Lafitte, his mouth still full
of bacon. "And will you come along? There must be millions of them
ducks and geese. I didn't know there was so many in all the world."
"You may go, both of you, Jean Lafitte," said I, "if you'll be careful
not to shoot yourselves. As for me, I must go back once more to the
boat, I fancy."
Peterson and I now held a brief conference, and presently, leaving the
ladies in charge of Willy and the cook, we two, with Williams to run
the motor, with some difficulty launched the long boat and made off
through a sea none too amiable, to go aboard the _Belle Helene_ once
more--which so short a time before I had thought we never might do
again.
"This is easier than pulling out in the dingey," grinned Peterson, as
we approached the _Belle Helene_. "Confound that deck-hand, he might
have got you drowned! I'll fire him, sure!"
"No," said I; "I've been thinking that over. There was a great deal of
confusion, and after all, he may have thought that we had John with
us. Besides, he's only young, and he's human. I'll tell you what
we'll do, Peterson--I'll dock him a month's wages, and I'll send his
wages to his mother. Meantime, let him carry the wood and water for a
week."
We found it not difficult now to go aboard the _Belle Helene_, for, in
the lessening seaway, she rolled not so evilly. Peterson sprang to the
deck as the bow of our boat rose alongside on a wave, and made fast
our line. When Williams and I had followed, we took a general
inventory of the _Belle Helene_. All the deck gear was gone, spare
oars and spars, a canvas or so, and some coils of rope. Beyond that,
there seemed no serious damage, unless the hull had been injured by
its pounding during the night.
"It's a mud-bank here, I think, Mr. Harry," said Peterson. "She may
have ripped some of her copper on the oyster reefs, but she seems to
bed full length and maybe she's not strained, after all."
"There's the line of channel guides," said I, pointing to a row of
sticks driven into the mud a couple of miles in length.
"Yes," said the old man, "the channel's not more than a biscuit toss
from here. We came right across it--if it hadn't been in the dark,
we'd have gone through into the lee of the island and been all right.
Now as it is, we're all wrong."
"How do you mean?" I asked.
"How'll we get that anchor up?" grumbled he. "If we start the engines
and try to crawl up by the capstan, we couldn't pull her out of the
mud. If we put on a donkey engine we'd snatch the bow out of here
before we could lift the hook. And until we do, how are we going to
move her? There's the channel, but it's as far as ever. We can't sweep
her off, of course, and we can't pole her off."
"Well, Peterson," said I, "let us, by all means, hope for the worst."
I smiled, seeing that he now was possessed of his normal gloom.
"Well," said he, "we went on at full tide, and hard aground at that.
This wind is blowing all the water out of Cote Blanche. Of course, if
the wind should turn and drive in again, we might move her, if we
caught her at high tide once more. Until that happens, I guess we're
anchored here for sure."
"The glass is rising now, Peterson," said I, pleasantly.
"Oh, yes, it may rise a little," said he, "and of course the storm's
gone by for the time. But I don't think there's going to be any good
change of weather that'll hold, very soon. But now, Williams and I'll
go below and see if we can start a pump. I expect she's sprung a
leak, all right."
Shaking his head in much apprehension, the old man made his way with
Williams, first into the engine-room. For my own part, I turned toward
my cabin door. All at once as I did so it seemed to me I heard a
sound. It came again, a sort of a meek diffident sound, expectant
rather than complaining. And then I heard an unmistakable scraping at
the door. Hastening, I flung it open. I was greeted with a great whine
of joy and trust, a shaggy form leaped upon me, thrust its cold nose
into my face, gave me much greetings of whines, and at length of a
loud howl of joy.
"Partial!" I cried, and caught him by the paws as he put them on my
shoulders and rubbed his muzzle along my cheek, whimpering; "Partial!
Oh, my dear chap, I say now, I'm glad to see you!"
As a matter of fact, I had forgotten Partial these three days, other
things being on my mind. Once more our amateurishness in shipwreck had
nearly cost us a life. Partial, no doubt, had meekly waited at his
usual place until ordered to come out with the rest. We had closed the
doors and port-holes when we left the _Belle Helene_, and thus he had
been locked in.
I sat down on one of the bench lockers with Partial's head in my
hand, and almost my eyes became moist. "Partial," said I, "let me
confess the truth to you. The woman had maddened me. I forgot you--I
did, and will own it now. It was a grave fault, my friend. I do not
ask you to forgive me, and all I can do is to promise you such amend
as lies in my power. From now on, I promise you, you shall go with me
to all the ends of the earth. My people shall be your people, till
death do us part. Do you hear me, Partial?"
He answered by springing up again and licking my face and hands,
whimpering excitedly, glad that I had come at last. "Dear Partial,"
said I, "you're no gladder than I am. And what's more, you've nothing
to cost you penitence. Come, we'll go to the dining-room and see
whether there's anything left to eat."
He followed me now along the rolling deck, and happily I was able to
get him some scraps for his breakfast. Peterson heard me talking, and
thrust up a head above the engine-room hatch. He was as crestfallen as
myself when I showed him that, once more, we had been forgetful and
had left a friend while busy in saving ourselves.
I went once more to my cabin--Peterson having discovered, apparently
to his great regret, that so far as could be determined, we had not
started a seam or smashed a timber anywhere. I found a small tent
among other of my sporting equipment and tossed this out to go in the
long boat's cargo. Another fowling piece and ammunition, my canvas
hunting coat and wading boots, followed. Even, I caught down from a
nail the only other pair of trousers available in my wardrobe--for
Davidson's vast midship section comported ill with my own. I found my
watch in these other trousers, and putting a hand in a pocket, fished
out also my portemonnaie. It had certain bills in it--I presume two or
three thousand dollars in all, and I thrust these into my pocket. At
the bottom of the little purse,--among collar buttons and other hard
objects,--I found a little round white object, and once more bethought
me of my pearl which I had won on the far northern river, as it seemed
to me many years before--the pearl which, as I have said, was to be
known as the _Belle Helene_. I preserved it now.
Peterson and Williams, meantime, were busy in getting aboard a case or
so of water--not forgetting the ninety-three of which I reminded the
old man once more. Some additional stores of bacon and tea, and a
case of eggs, were also taken aboard. At length, with quite a little
cargo in the way of comforts, we embarked once more and started for
our rude encampment.
"We may be here for a month," said Peterson gloomily, looking at the
_Belle Helene_, now rolling just a little, her keel fast full length
in the mud-bar. "I don't think there's ever going to be any change of
wind--it'll blow steadily this way for a week, anyhow."
"I presume, Peterson," said I coolly, "that you don't see the sun
breaking through the clouds over there, at all. And I fancy that you
will not believe, either, that the sea is lulling now. Very well, I
don't want to make you unhappy, my friend."
I heard Williams chuckling as he stooped over his engine. Thus,
chugging on merrily with the long oily roll of the sea under us, we
presently once more ran our surf, and this time had small difficulty
in winning through, for, once we felt the ground under us, we simply
sprang overboard and waded in, dragging the boat with us, waist-deep
sometimes in the flood, but on the whole quite safe.
My two pirate mates came down to the beach joyously, and helped us
unload. It seemed that they had made something of a hunt already, for
with much pride Jean now displayed to me certain birds, proof of his
own prowess with his shotgun.
"Some of 'em's good to eat," said he. "Regular greenheads, like we get
up North." I looked at the string of birds, and saw that they were
mallards and teals, a couple of dozen at least.
"Fie, fie!" said I. "I fear you've been shooting on the water."
"Sure I did! And here's four things that I don't suppose are good to
eat--they got kind of snaky heads, and red-colored, too. Ain't no
ducks good to eat that ain't got green heads."
"Each man to his taste," said I, "but if you like, you may have the
green heads, and I'll take these with the auburn locks."
"Pshaw! What are they?" answered he.
"Only canvasbacks," said I, "and good fat ones, too. What luck have
you, Jimmy, my son?"
"Well, I went along and helped carry things," said L'Olonnois.
"What's that you've got on a string?" I asked him.
"Oh, that," said he, flushing. "It ain't nothing but a little turtle.
It had funny marks on its back. I caught it in the grass over there
by the lake."
Something about Jimmy's little turtle interested me, and I picked it
up in my hands.
"For amateur sportsmen, gentlemen," said I, "you're doing pretty well.
Your funny little turtle, Jimmy, is nothing but a diamond-back
terrapin. There are perhaps more of them on this coast than anywhere
else in the world to-day. And Partial, here--that friend of ours now
leaping excitedly and joyously before them, barking at this little
turtle of Jimmy's--will perhaps be able to help you find some more of
them in the grass--the market hunters here hunt them with dogs, as
perhaps you did not know."
"We got some oysters, Sir," said Willy, coming forward shyly and
shamefacedly; and showed me the cockpit of the duck boat pretty well
filled. The boy had, it seems, found a reef of these in a brackish arm
which made inland, and dug them by the simple process of stooping down
below the surface of the water, since he had no oyster tongs.
"Well," said I, "it looks as if we would fare pretty well for lunch.
John"--and I called my China boy--"again I find renewed cause for
felicitations on your rescue."
John stood looking at me blankly.
"You savee, John?" said I, showing him one of the canvasbacks, and he
remarked mildly, "All litee." If anything, his lunch was better than
his breakfast, and when I saw him take Jimmy's funny little turtle
from him and examine it with appraising eye, I felt fairly well
convinced that we should not suffer at the dinner hour.
But though a certain gaiety now came to others of the party as we sat
about our midday meal, warm now and well fed, and although the boys
excitedly made plans about putting up the tent and furnishing it and
going into camp for the winter, I could not share their eagerness.
There was one other reticent figure at our fireside. Helena sat
silent, the head of Partial in her lap. I felt resentment that she
should steal from me even my dog. At last, having nothing better to
do, I picked up my gun, and slipping on my coat, started down the
beach, telling the boys that I was going alone, perhaps too far for
them to follow, with the purpose of making some sort of an exploration
of the island.
Moody and depressed, not in the least well satisfied with life, even
with matters thus so far more fortunate than we had so recently had
reason to expect, I walked along the hard sand, sometimes looking at
the long lines of wild fowl streaming in above the fresh-water lagoon,
but in reality thinking but little of these. I did not at first hear
the light step which came behind me on the sand.