AN ANXIOUS NIGHT.
Dinner was cooked and eaten as soon as possible after the return of Ned
and Jack to camp, because all three of the boys were eager to make the
long-deferred beginning upon the new boat.
"The _Red Bird_ was wrecked last Thursday," said Charley, "and now it is
Monday, and yet we haven't even begun to get ready to prepare to
commence to build."
"Yes we have, Charley," said Jack. "We have worked diligently at the
most important part of the task. We have made first-rate arrangements
for food, and that is a good beginning. But we'll actually begin on the
boat itself to-day. By the way, Ned, you're to be the master-builder."
"Well, I don't know about that," said Ned; "you were bragging the other
day about your mechanical skill, and I'm very modest in that direction.
I'm actually a clumsy hand with tools."
"No, I didn't brag," said Jack; "I only stated facts. I believe I am a
better workman with tools than either of you fellows, and for that
reason I'm willing to take the most difficult jobs on myself, but you
must be the superintendent."
"I don't see why," said Ned.
"Because, even if you are clumsy with tools, you know more about a boat
in a minute than Charley and I do in a year, and it's a good rule to put
each fellow at the thing he can do best."
"All right," said Charley; "I'm the best hand you ever saw at sitting on
a log and watching you fellows work, so I'll take that for my share."
"No, you won't," said Ned. "If I'm to superintend this job I'll find
something better than that for you to do. But I say, Jack, it's absurd
for me to try to tell you how to do things that you can do ten times as
well as I."
"I don't want you to tell me how to do, but what to do; then we'll all
do it. I'll take the most difficult parts, and besides that I'll give
you and Charley some hints about how to do your share, perhaps."
"All right," said Ned, "I'll be superintendent if you wish."
"Very well," said Jack. "Now plan the boat, determine the dimensions,
and tell us how to begin."
"Well, let me see," said Ned. "The _Red Bird_ was twenty-four feet long
in the keel--twenty-five feet over all,--and five feet wide amidships.
We must allow liberally for waste in trying to use the old materials, so
we'll take off six feet of length, giving the new boat a keel of
eighteen feet, a total length of nineteen feet, and let the beam width
take care of itself."
"How do you mean?"
"Why, we shorten amidships only; that is to say we omit the six or eight
ribs that were in the middle of the old boat, and bring the next ribs
forward and aft to the middle. Whatever width they give will be the
width of the boat amidships. In that way we shall preserve the old
proportions, while changing the old dimensions. The new boat will be, in
shape, precisely what the _Red Bird_ would have been if we had cut out
six feet of her length amidships, and had then brought the two ends
together."
"Yes, I see," said Charley. "What is the first thing to be done?"
"To lay a keel," said Ned. "The old keel is broken, so we must have a
new one. Besides, that was double, for a centre-board, and we'll have to
build without a centre-board."
"What are the dimensions of the keel?" asked Jack.
"Eighteen feet long, as nearly as we can guess, and about three inches
by six or seven."
"To be set on edge?"
"Yes, and to project below the bottom. That will give steadiness to the
boat."
"What is the best timber for the keel?" asked Jack.
"White oak, if we had it, but we haven't. The long-leaf yellow pine is
very nearly as good, and for our purposes it is really better, because
we can work it more easily. There's a fine, small, straight tree trunk
just beyond the camp that will suit us precisely. It has been lying for
several years apparently, and is well seasoned. We have only to cut it
off the right length, split off slabs till we get a rude square, and
then hew it down to the right dimensions with the axe and hatchet. That
will occupy us for two days at least, so let's get to work."
The event proved that Ned had underestimated the length of time
necessary for this work. The hard, flinty yellow pine, seasoned as it
was, was very difficult to work. The axe and hatchet were not very sharp
at the outset, and before night both were distressingly dull. The next
day, what edges they had were worn away, and it was difficult to cut
with them at all. Charley declared that he could do nearly as well with
his teeth, but he did not try that experiment. There was no grindstone
in the camp, and none to be had, of course, and so the weary boys had to
make the best of a bad matter and work on as they could with the dull
tools.
On Thursday the keel was not yet quite done, and the rice began to show
the effects of the boys' appetites.
"I say, fellows," said Charley, "one of us must go for a fresh supply of
rice."
"Yes," said Ned, "it is ripening now, and will all fall if we don't
secure a good supply. You go, Charley, won't you?"
"Yes. I'm worth less at carpenter's work than either of you, so I'll go.
Pull off your trowsers, both of you."
"Why, what's--" began Ned.
"Yes, I know," interrupted Charley, "I ought to take a bag, or a sheet,
or, still better, the spring wagon; but seeing that we haven't any
wagon, or bag, or sheet, or any thing else to carry rice in, except
trowsers, I'm going to use trowsers; and remembering the tattered
condition of Jack's skin after his trowserless stroll through the
briars, I'm not going to use my own trowsers for a bag. So off with your
pantaloons, young men, and be quick about it, for I'm going to make two
trips to-day and bring in rice for the whole season."
Laughing, the boys obeyed, and Charley left them at work in their shirts
and drawers. He got back to camp at dinner-time, fully loaded. After
dinner he made his second trip, saying that he would return about
sunset.
Sunset came at its appointed time, but Charley was not so punctual. It
grew dark, and still Charley did not appear. Ned and Jack began to grow
uneasy. They went out into the woods in rear of their camp and called at
the top of their voices, but received no answer.
"I'll tell you what, Ned," said Jack; "we must build a beacon fire.
Charley has stayed late to fill his trowser-bags, and has lost his way
trying to get back."
It was no sooner said than done. Pitch pine was piled on the fire, and a
blaze made that might have been seen for many miles. The boys shouted
themselves hoarse too, but got no answer.
After an hour of waiting, Ned said:
"Jack, I'm going over to the rice patch to look for Charley. Something
serious must have happened. You stay here and keep up a big fire. If I
need you I'll call at the top of my voice, and you will hear me I
think."
"But, Ned, it's an awful undertaking to go from here to the rice field
on such a night. It's as black as pitch, and you are barefooted and
almost naked; let me go."
"I know all that," said Ned, "but it would be cowardly to abandon
Charley, and for my life I can't see that you are any better equipped
for the journey than I am. You're barefooted too, and as nearly naked as
I am."
"Yes, I suppose so," answered Jack, "but I don't mind for myself."
"You stay here, you great big-hearted, generous fellow!" was all that
Ned said in reply, as he started away.
Both Jack and Ned knew that the journey thus undertaken would be
attended by no little danger as well as sore discomfort and suffering.
The deadly moccasin and rattlesnake lurk in the grass and weeds of that
coast country, and the unshod boy was in peril of their fangs at every
step. He was too brave a boy, however, to shrink from danger when a real
duty was to be done, and so he set forth manfully. Taking a stick he
struck the ground frequently, as a precaution against the danger of
stepping upon any snake that might be in his path, and more than once he
heard the venomous creatures hiss angrily before scurrying away.
He pressed forward too eagerly to pay due attention to briars and
brushwood, and so before he reached the rice swamp his scanty clothing
was nearly torn from his body and his skin was badly lacerated. His
coat protected his shoulders and arms, of course, but his legs, hands,
and face suffered not a little.
Meantime Jack kept up the beacon fire, suffering scarcely less with
anxiety and impatience than Ned suffered from physical hurts. Poor Jack
had the hard task of waiting in terror and uncertainty. He imagined all
manner of evils that might have happened to Charley; then he became
anxious about Ned. He shuddered to think of the dangers through which
his companion must be passing. The necessity of inactivity was
intolerable; Jack could not sit or stand still. He felt that he should
go mad if he did not keep in motion. He paced up and down by the fire,
as a caged tiger does. Finally, morbid fancies took possession of him.
He imagined that he heard Ned groan in the bushes on his left. Then he
seemed to hear a cry of agony from Charley in the woods on his right.
Investigation revealed nothing, and Jack returned to his waiting in an
agony of suspense.
It was after midnight when Ned returned, torn, bleeding, worn out with
exertion, and very lame from a wound in his foot. He had trodden upon
some sharp thing, a thorn or sharp spike of wood, which had thrust
itself deep into the flesh of his heel, and the wound was now badly
inflamed.
"Thank heaven, you are safe at any rate!" exclaimed Jack fervently. "Did
you find out any thing about poor Charley?"
"Nothing," answered Ned, returning Jack's warm hand-clasp. "I went to
the rice field and found the place where he had been threshing, but no
other trace of him. He must have finished threshing, however, and
started homeward, as he left no threshed rice there. I could not find a
trail in the dark, of course, and I can't imagine what has become of
Charley. I called him repeatedly, and went all around the marsh, but it
was of no use. Besides, if he were anywhere in that region he would know
the way home, for I could see not only the light from this fire but the
blaze itself."
"Well, you stay here now and let me go," said Jack, preparing to set
out.
"What's the use?" asked Ned. "I tell you I have done all that can be
done until daylight. If you go you'll only run the risk of laming
yourself, and then there'll be nobody fit to take up the search when
morning comes to make it hopeful."
This was so obviously a sensible view of the situation, that Jack was
forced, though reluctantly, to remain where he was.
Hour after hour the two boys waited and watched, keeping up the beacon
fire, and occasionally investigating sounds which they heard or thought
that they heard in the woods and thickets around them. Naturally they
talked very little. There was nothing to talk of except Charley's
disappearance, and there was little to be said about that.
It began to rain, slowly at first, and in torrents toward morning, but
neither boy thought of going into the hut for shelter. Indeed, neither
boy seemed conscious of the fact that it was raining at all. They were
aware only of the horrible suspense in which they were passing the hours
of a night which seemed almost endless.