Luckily the water was only four feet deep, as Charley found when he
tried to touch bottom; so he stopped swimming, and, with the water
nearly up to his shoulders, stood still and began to think what to
do next.
The canoes--including the sunken _Midnight_--were a good mile
from the shore, and although the sandy shoal on which Charley was
standing was firm and hard it was of small extent, and the water
all around it was too deep to be waded.
“You’ll have to get into one of our canoes,” said Harry.
“How am I going to do it without capsizing her?” replied Charley.
“I don’t believe it can be done,” said Harry, as he looked first
at the _Sunshine_ and then at the _Twilight_; “but then you’ve got
to do it somehow. You can’t swim a whole mile, can you?”
“Of course I can’t, but then it wouldn’t do me any good to spill
one of you fellows by trying to climb out of the water into a canoe
that’s as full now as she ought to be. Besides, I’m not going to
desert the _Midnight_.”
“I thought the _Midnight_ had deserted you,” said Joe. “If my canoe
should go to the bottom of the lake without giving me any warning,
I shouldn’t think it a bit rude to leave her there.”
“Don’t talk nonsense!” exclaimed Charley; “but come here and help
me get my canoe afloat again. We can do it, I think, if we go to
work the right way.”
Charley found no difficulty in getting hold of the painter of his
canoe with the help of his paddle. Giving the end of the painter to
Joe, he took the _Dawn’s_ painter, and by ducking down under the
water succeeded after two or three attempts in reeving it through
the stern-post of the sunken canoe, and giving one end to Harry
and the other to Tom. Then, taking the bow painter from Joe, he
grasped it firmly with both hands, and at a given signal all the
boys, except Joe, made a desperate effort to bring the wreck to the
surface.
They could not do it. They managed to raise her off the bottom, but
Harry and Tom in their canoes could not lift to any advantage, and
so were forced to let her settle down again.
“I’ve got to unload her,” said Charley, gloomily. “I think we can
get her up if there is nothing in her except water. Anyhow we’ve
got to try.”
It was tiresome work to get the water-soaked stores and canned
provisions out of the canoe, and Charley had to duck his head
under the water at least a dozen times before the heaviest part
of the _Midnight’s_ cargo could be brought up and passed into the
other canoes. His comrades wanted to jump overboard and help him,
but he convinced them that they would have great difficulty in
climbing back into their canoes, and that in all probability they
would capsize themselves in so doing. “He’s right!” cried Joe.
“Commodore, please make an order that hereafter only one canoe
shall be wrecked at a time. We must keep some dry stores in the
fleet.”
When the _Midnight_ was partly unloaded a new and successful effort
was made to raise her. As soon as she reached the surface Charley
rolled her over, bottom upward, and in this position the small
amount of air imprisoned under her kept her afloat.
The cause of the leak was quickly discovered. There was a hole
through her canvas bottom nearly an inch in diameter, made by some
blow she had received while on the way to the lake. The wonder
was, not that she sunk when she did, but that she had floated long
enough to be paddled a mile. It is probable that the ballast-bag,
which was close by the hole, had partly stopped the leak at first,
but had afterward been slightly moved, thus permitting the water to
rush freely in.
The surface of painted canvas dries very quickly in the hot sun,
and it was not long before the bottom of the _Midnight_ was dry
enough to be temporarily patched. Harry lighted his spirit-lamp
and melted a little of the lump of rosin and tallow which had been
provided for mending leaks. This was spread over a patch of new
canvas: the patch was then placed over the hole, and more of the
melted rosin and tallow smeared over it. In about fifteen minutes
the patch was dry enough to be serviceable, and Charley righted the
canoe, hailed her out, and by throwing himself across the cockpit,
and then carefully turning himself so as to get his legs into it,
found himself once more afloat and ready to paddle.
The canoe still leaked, but the leak could be kept under without
difficulty by occasional bailing, and in the course of half an hour
the sand-spit for which the fleet had started was reached. It was
part of a large island with steep, rocky shores and a beautiful
little sandy beach. It was just the place for a camp; and though
the boys had expected to camp some miles farther north, the sinking
of Charley’s canoe had so delayed them that it was already nearly
six o’clock, and they therefore decided to paddle no farther that
day.
[Illustration: A STAMPEDE IN CAMP.]
The canoes were hauled out on the beach, and unloaded and shored
up with their rudders, backboards, and a few pieces of drift-wood
so as to stand on an even keel. Then came the work of rigging
shelters over them for the night. Harry’s canoe-tent was supported
by four small upright sticks resting on the deck and fitting
into cross-pieces sewed into the roof of the tent. The sides and
ends buttoned down to the gunwale and deck of the canoe, and
two curtains, one on each side, which could be rolled up like
carriage-curtains in fair weather and buttoned down in rainy
weather, served both as the doors and windows of the tent. The
shelters rigged by the other boys were much less complete. The two
masts of each canoe were stepped, the paddle was lashed between
them, and a rubber blanket was hung over the paddle, with its edges
reaching nearly to the ground. The blankets and the bags which
served as pillows were then arranged, and the canoes were ready for
the night.
It was a warm and clear night, and a breeze which came up from
the south at sunset blew the mosquitoes away. Harry found his
tent, with the curtains rolled up, cool and pleasant; but his
fellow-canoeists found themselves fairly suffocating under their
rubber blankets, and were compelled to throw them aside.
Toward morning, when the day was just beginning to dawn, the
canoeists were suddenly awakened by a rush of many heavy, trampling
feet which shook the ground. It was enough to startle any one,
and the boys sprung up in such a hurry that Harry struck his head
against the roof of his tent, knocked it down, upset the canoe,
and could not at first decide whether he was taking part in a
railway collision or whether an earthquake of the very best quality
had happened. The cause of the disturbance was a herd of horses
trotting down to the water’s edge to drink. There were at least
twenty of them, and had the canoes happened to be in their path
they might have stumbled over them in the faint morning light;
in which case the boys would have had the experience of being
shipwrecked on dry land.
A gentle southerly breeze wrinkled the water while breakfast was
cooking, and the Commodore ordered that the masts and sails should
be got ready for use. It was impossible to make an early start,
for Charley’s blankets had to be dried in the sun, and the hole
in his canoe had to be repaired with a new patch in a thorough
and workmanlike way. It was, therefore, ten o’clock before the
canoes were ready to be launched; and in the mean time the wind
had increased so much that the boys decided to use only their
main-sails.
The moment the sails drew the canoes shot off at a pace which
filled the young canoeists with delight. The canoes were in good
trim for sailing, as they were not overloaded; and while they were
skirting the west shore of the island the water was quite smooth.
Each canoe carried a bag partly filled with sand for ballast, and
every one except Joe had lashed his ballast-bag to the keelson.
This was a precaution which Joe had forgotten to take, and before
long he had good reason to regret his error.
As soon as the northern end of the island was passed the canoes
came to a part of the lake where there was quite a heavy sea. The
_Dawn_ and the _Twilight_ were steered by the paddle, which passed
through a row-lock provided for the purpose; and Joe and Tom found
little difficulty in keeping their canoes directly before the wind.
The two other canoes were steered with rudders, and occasionally,
when their bows dipped, their rudders were thrown nearly out of the
water, in consequence of which they steered wildly. All the canoes
showed a tendency to roll a good deal, and now and then a little
water would wash over the deck. It was fine sport running down the
lake with such a breeze, and the boys enjoyed it immensely.
The wind continued to rise, and the lake became covered with
white-caps. “Commodore,” said Charley Smith, “I don’t mean to show
any disrespect to my commanding officer, but it seems to me this is
getting a little risky.”
“How is it risky?” asked Harry. “You’re a sailor and know twice as
much about boats as I do, if I am Commodore.”
“It’s risky in two or three ways. For instance, if the wind blows
like this much longer a following sea will swamp some one of us.”
“Oh! we’re going fast enough to keep out of the way of the sea,”
cried Joe.
“Just notice how your canoe comes almost to a dead stop every time
she sinks between two seas, and you won’t feel quite so sure that
you’re running faster than the sea is.”
The boys saw that Charley was right. The canoes were so light that
they lost their headway between the seas, and it was evident that
they were in danger of being overtaken by a following sea.
“Tell us two or three more dangers, just to cheer us up, won’t you?”
asked Joe, who was in high spirits with the excitement of the sail.
“There’s the danger of rolling our booms under, and there is a
great deal of danger that Harry’s canoe and mine will broach-to
when our rudders are out of water.”
“What will happen if they do broach-to?”
“They’ll capsize, that’s all,” replied Charley.
“What had we better do?” asked Harry. “There’s no use in capsizing
ourselves in the middle of the lake.”
“My advice is that we haul on the port tack, and run over to the
west shore. The moment we get this wind and sea on the quarter we
shall be all right--though, to be sure, we’ve got more sail up than
we ought to have.”
The canoes were quite near together, with the exception of the
_Twilight_, which was outsailing the others; but even she was still
near enough to be hailed. Harry hailed her, and ordered the fleet
to steer for a cove on the west shore. As soon as the wind was
brought on the port quarter the canoes increased their speed; and
although the _Twilight_ made more leeway than the others, she drew
ahead of them very fast. The wind was now precisely what the canoes
wanted to bring out their sailing qualities. The _Sunshine_ soon
showed that she was the most weatherly, as the _Twilight_ was the
least weatherly, of the fleet. The _Midnight_ kept up very fairly
with the _Sunshine_; and the _Dawn_, with her small lateen-sail,
skimmed over the water so fast that it was evident that if she
could have carried the big balance-lug of the _Sunshine_ she would
easily have beaten her.
The canoes were no longer in danger of being swamped; but the wind
continuing to rise, the boys found that they were carrying more
sail than was safe. They did not want to take in their sails and
paddle, and though all of the sails except the _Dawn’s_ lateen
could be reefed, nobody wanted to be the first to propose to reef;
and Harry, in his excitement, forgot all about reefing. The wind,
which had been blowing very steadily, now began to blow in gusts,
and the boys had to lean far out to windward to keep their canoes
right side up.
“We can’t keep on this way much longer without coming to grief,”
Charley cried at the top of his lungs, so that Harry, who was some
distance to windward, could hear him.
“What do you say?” replied Harry.
“We’ve got too much sail on,” yelled Charley.
“Of course we’ll sail on. This is perfectly gorgeous!” was Harry’s
answer.
“He don’t hear,” said Charley. “I say, Joe, you’d better take
in your main-sail, and set the dandy in its place. You’ll spill
yourself presently.”
“The dandy’s stowed down below, where I can’t get at it. I guess I
can hold her up till we get across.”
Tom was by this time far out of hailing distance, and was
apparently getting on very well. Charley did not doubt that he
could manage his own canoe well enough, but he was very uneasy
about Harry and Joe, who did not seem to realize that they were
carrying sail altogether too recklessly. The fleet was nearly two
miles from the shore, and a capsize in the heavy sea that was
running would have been no joke.
Charley turned part way around in his canoe to see if his life-belt
was in handy reach. As he did so he saw that the water a quarter
of a mile to windward was black with a fierce squall that was
approaching. He instantly brought his canoe up to the wind, so that
the squall would strike him on the port bow, and called out to
Harry and Joe to follow his example. Harry did not hear him, and
Joe, instead of promptly following Charley’s advice, stopped to
wonder what he was trying to do. The squall explained the matter
almost immediately. It struck the _Sunshine_ and the _Dawn_, and
instantly capsized them, and then rushed on to overtake Tom, and
to convince him that Lake Memphremagog is not a good place for
inexperienced canoeists who want to carry sail recklessly in
squally weather.