CHAPTER XI.

A DARING RESCUE.

“There he goes, and a good riddance!” announced Tip Lange, as after

having been prodded and shouted at vigorously, the swimming animal

doubtless came to the conclusion that he was not wanted, and began to

make a straight line for the shore.

“He manages to get along all right for one of his heft, I take it,”

asserted Billy reflectively. “Which goes to show that because a fellow

is stout it’s no reason he should be reckoned clumsy, nor yet slow.”

This doubtless was a matter of more or less satisfaction to Billy,

because he had often been “joshed” by his chums on account of his

increasing waistline.

They crossed over and back without discovering another case of “help

wanted.”

“Looks as if we had cleaned things up pretty tidily around here,”

observed Tip Lange, with a touch of pride in his manner, “unless we

choose to start in moving families’ belongings from their flooded

houses. And as that would be too big an undertaking for us to go into, I

guess we don’t care to make a beginning.”

“Which way now, Hugh?” asked Billy. “Can we head back to town? I’m

wondering how the other fellows are coming along with their share of the

work, and whether we could help them out in any way.”

“Yes; I’m going to make for the outlet of the valley,” the pilot told

him. “We could run up in the rear of the town, but it’s better to go

back as we came.”

“And a good thing we can get out of this mess before night sets in,”

Monkey remarked over his shoulder, for he was sprawled like a big toad

in the bow, so that he might keep a lookout for any snags in their

course, Hugh having delegated him for that duty.

There was very little movement to the water in the flooded valley,

except as the wind happened to blow, and just then it was almost calm.

So the launch went cheerily on its way, as though with every

_rat-tat-tat_ explosion it rejoiced over the fact of having been

instrumental in saving so many persons from all sorts of suffering, both

mental and physical.

Tip Lange seemed to be feeling especially fine. This was doubtless

caused by the fact that things were working for the revival of the scout

movement in Lawrence. He had been hearing some pretty handsome

compliments of late from the mayor, and then Mr. Jasper, once the most

disliked man in all Lawrence among scout circles on account of his

well-known animosity toward the movement.

How wonderfully had the atmosphere been cleared, and all because of the

magnificent opportunity that had come along whereby the wearers of the

much-abused khaki were given a chance to show what they were good for!

“Talk about blessings in disguise,” Tip had to say, as he sat near Hugh

and watched the other tinkering with the working motor, trying to

improve its action by slight changes, “this flood may mean a whole lot

of trouble to lots of folks, but it’s going to be the making of Lawrence

Troop, believe me.”

“Well, your worst enemy now is a booster,” replied Hugh, smiling to see

how the great change in the conditions was affecting Tip, who seemed to

be smiling most all the time now. “It’s easy to see that you’re going to

have smooth sailing here. Put your shoulder to the wheel, Tip, and never

again allow yourself to give up to despair. Try and believe the sun is

shining back of the clouds, and that it’s always darkest just before

dawn.”

“Dawn has come for us, I reckon, Hugh, and we owe the most of it to——”

“There, I don’t want to listen to any talk like that, Tip. At least keep

it until I’m back home in Oakvale. Then if you fellows here think I can

give you any good advice, or help you to build up your troop, write me.”

“You’ll hear from us, never fear,” said the other significantly, as

though even then he had some vague idea in his mind as to the way in

which he and his brother scouts of Lawrence Troop ought to suitably

thank these two strangers for all they had done toward starting the ball

rolling again.

“We’re close to the river, Hugh!” sang out Monkey Stallings, “and, gee

whiz! how it does seem to be booming along out there! Some current,

that, let me tell you. Do you think we could work up against it if we

had to, Hugh?”

“Oh, I reckon we could,” the pilot replied carelessly, “though it’d be

slow work, and if the engine took a notion to give out we’d have to get

our anchor overboard in a hurry to hold fast. But so far as we know

there’s no need of our trying such a risky thing as that.”

“Why, look there, boys, isn’t that a house floating along, and bobbing

up and down like a cork? Now she turns one way and then another. Some

poor family has lost their home up above. It’s too bad, and I only hope

they all managed to get safe to the hills before the cabin went. Oh!

what’s that clinging to the roof? Seems to me it moved then! Yes, as

sure as anything it’s alive!”

As the scout in the bow made this loud outcry, the others all strained

their eyes to see. Even Hugh diverted his attention from the steering

gear and the working motor to look.

“It’s a boy!” declared Tip Lange, almost immediately.

“And the poor fellow looks like he would soon be tumbled into the river

when that cabin takes a notion to turn all the way over!” added Billy.

“Oh! what can we do?” cried Monkey, his voice filled with pity. “Hugh,

would you dare chase after that floating house and try to rescue the

poor chap?”

Hugh had to think quickly when the question was put up to him in that

way. Naturally his first impulse would be to say “go,” because he felt

keenly for the desperate situation of that boy who dared not leave his

floating refuge. It might be because he could not swim, and that raging

torrent was enough to give the best swimmer reason for holding back.

Still, Hugh had also to remember that it would be risking four lives for

one if he decided to make the try.

“We’ll save him if we can,” he said finally, after looking everything in

the face. “If the current is too swift to let us get back again

to-night, why what’s to hinder our tying up to the bank and waiting?

There’ll be another day coming.”

“Yes, and scouts ought to know how to rustle for grub at some house

they’d find ashore,” added Billy, who, it may be remembered, was

especially fond of hearing the dinner bell ring, or catching some other

camp summons that told of a waiting meal.

“Full speed ahead!” sang out Monkey, evidently entering into the spirit

of the occasion with his customary zeal.

The floating cabin had a pretty good start of them, Hugh knew, but once

the launch had reached the river, and turned down, they must speedily

overcome this lead. He had no fears about not being able to overtake the

runaway cabin, though when they presently started with the speeding

current their progress was so swift that it almost made one dizzy to

watch the shore line, so rapidly did it seem to glide past.

“We’re catching up hand over fist!” announced Monkey enthusiastically,

from his post in the bow; but he no longer held this alone, since both

Tip and Billy were crowded in alongside.

“And he’s still hanging on!” announced the Lawrence scout. “Good for

him, whoever the little chap is. I like his grit!”

“Huh! I kind of guess he can’t do much else but hang on with all his

might,” commented Billy. “There, didn’t you see him wave his hand at us

then?”

“He’s discovered us, all right,” observed Monkey, “and like as not it

gives him a new lot of strength to know we’re heading after him, poor

kid.”

“Don’t forget to watch out for snags,” warned Hugh, “because going at

this rate, if we ever banged into a log, it would be all up with the

launch. And perhaps we’d be glad to climb up on that cabin roof with the

boy.”

“Whew! I hope we don’t come to that yet a while, Hugh!” said Monkey.

“I’m keeping a bright lookout for any floaters all the time. It isn’t

near as bad as if we were breasting the current, you know. Then they’d

hit us a savage smash, while now we’re all going the same way, only

we’re beating everything else out of sight.”

Billy, seeing the imperiled boy once more waving his hand, took it upon

himself to give him a return salute with his campaign hat. At the same

time he let out a vigorous shout in hopes of cheering the poor castaway.

Already they had gone a mile or so below the flooded town, but they were

rapidly overhauling the floating cabin.

“We’ll get him, don’t you fear,” Billy was saying, half to himself, as

though he may have been doubtful up to then. “That cabin is going to

behave, and not act like a bucking broncho to toss him off, even if it

does lurch and bog something scandalous. Give him a cheer, boys, to

hearten him more. Now, altogether!”

So they ran down alongside the cabin. They had discovered some time back

that their conclusion about its being a half-grown boy who was clinging

to the roof of the floating house was correct. He looked peaked and

white, indeed, though it could be seen that he was beginning to pluck up

new courage as he saw them drawing ever nearer.

“How’ll we get him aboard without running too much risk, Hugh?” asked

Billy.

“First get your rope ready,” the pilot told him. “Have a loop in the end

just as you did for Miss Maria. Then when I pull alongside throw it up

to him. Once he gets that loop under his arms, and we can be sure of

drawing him aboard even if he happened to make a slip and fall

overboard.”

“I like the scheme, Hugh,” was the only comment Billy made as he

hurriedly took up the accommodating clothes line, at the end of which he

found the same running noose that had played such a prominent part in

the saving of the little old maid who had persisted in clinging to her

perch in the tree.

“Guess I can fling it all right, even if the room isn’t all I’d like,”

Billy remarked as he arranged the coils the way he had seen some Western

cowboys do many a time in a Wild West show. “Please back off, Tip, and

get on my other side. And, Monkey, hold the push pole out of the way

when you hold off from the cabin. All ready here, Hugh. Bring her

closer, will you?”

Hugh was calculating the distance. He wanted to succeed in their present

undertaking because that boy’s life was just as valuable as any other

they had saved during the momentous day. At the same time Hugh did not

wish to make any blunder apt to cost them dear.

Billy saw his chance, and giving the necessary toss sent the coils of

rope across the roof of the teetering cabin.

“Get hold of that rope, and slip the loop under your arms!” he called

out as loud as he could, for the water was making a lot of noise as it

swirled about the cabin and the launch, forming fierce eddies and little

whirlpools.

The boy was not so badly frightened now. He could do what he was told,

they saw with considerable relief. Had it been otherwise one of the

rescuing party, perhaps the agile Monkey Stallings, would have been

compelled to clamber up to the roof and have accomplished the dangerous

work in that way.

“Now, pull the noose tight!” continued Billy, when he saw the boy had

followed out his command. “Make your way toward this end of the roof,

and be ready to jump when I say so. Don’t be afraid of falling in; we’ve

got the rope tight, and can yank you out of the river as quick as a

flash if you should miss. Steady now, and it’s going to be as easy as

falling off a log.”

In this fashion, then, did Billy coax the boy to crawl along the reeling

roof of the cabin until he had reached the edge. Then, when the right

second came, and the building was inclined toward them, he suddenly

called out:

“Jump, boy, jump!”

The lad had faith enough to believe what Billy so confidently told him.

He sprang without hesitation, struck the edge of the launch, and then

several eager hands seized upon him before he could fall back into the

water.

And as Hugh backed away from the tumbling cabin he joined his chums in

letting out a loud shout that relieved their pent-up feelings as nothing

else could have done.

The Boy Scouts in the Great Flood · 第 11 / 12 章