A council was held at the hotel, and a dozen different water-routes
were discussed. As the boys still wanted to carry out their
original design of making a voyage to Quebec, they decided to take
the canoes by rail to Rouse’s Point, and from thence to descend
the Richelieu River to the St. Lawrence. The railway journey would
take nearly a whole day, but they thought it would be a rather
pleasant change from the close confinement of canoeing. For it must
be admitted that, delightful as they had found canoeing to be, the
task of sitting for hours in the cockpit of a canoe with scarcely
a possibility of materially changing one’s position was tiresome,
and the boys, after a night’s sleep at the Sherbrooke hotel, felt
decidedly stiff.
As it would have taken three days to send the canoes to Rouse’s
Point by freight, the canoeists were compelled to take them on
the same train with themselves. They went to the express office
on Monday morning and tried to make a bargain with the express
company. The agent astonished them by the enormous price which he
demanded, and Harry, who acted as spokesman for the expedition,
told him that it was outrageous to ask such a price for carrying
four light canoes.
The man turned to a book in which were contained the express
company’s rates of charges, and showed Harry that there was a fixed
rate for row-boats and shells.
“But,” said Harry, “a canoe is not a row-boat nor a shell. What
justice is there in charging as much for a fourteen-foot canoe as
for a forty-foot shell?”
“Well,” said the agent, “I dunno as it would be fair. But, then,
these canoes of yours are pretty near as big as row-boats.”
“A canoe loaded as ours are don’t weigh over one hundred and ten
pounds. How much does a row-boat weigh?”
“Well, about two or three hundred pounds.”
“Then, is it fair to charge as much for a canoe as for a row-boat,
that weighs three times as much?”
The agent found it difficult to answer this argument, and after
thinking the matter over he agreed to take the canoes at half the
rate ordinarily charged for row-boats. The boys were pleased with
their victory over him, but they still felt that to be compelled to
pay four times as much for the canoes as they paid for their own
railroad-tickets was an imposition.
At ten o’clock the train rolled into the Sherbrooke station. To the
great disappointment of the boys, no express-car was attached to
it, the only place for express packages being a small compartment
twelve feet long at one end of the smoking-car. It was obvious
that canoes fourteen feet long could not go into a space only
twelve feet long, and it seemed as if it would be necessary to wait
twelve hours for the night-train, to which a large express-car was
always attached. But the conductor of the train was a man who could
sympathize with boys, and who had ideas of his own. He uncoupled
the engine, which was immediately in front of the smoking-car, and
then had the canoes taken in through the door of the smoking-car
and placed on the backs of the seats. Very little room was left for
passengers who wanted to smoke; but as there were only four or five
of these they made no complaint. The canoes, with blankets under
them, to protect the backs of the seats, rode safely, and when,
late in the afternoon, Rouse’s Point, was reached, they were taken
out of the car without a scratch.
There was just time enough before sunset to paddle a short distance
below the fort, where a camping-ground was found that would have
been very pleasant had there been fewer mosquitoes. They were the
first Canadian mosquitoes that had made the acquaintance of the
young canoeists, and they seemed to be delighted. They sung and
buzzed in quiet excitement, and fairly drove the boys from their
supper to the shelter of the canoes.
Harry had a long piece of mosquito-netting, which he threw over the
top of his canoe-tent, and which fell over the openings on each
side of the tent, thus protecting the occupant of the canoe from
mosquitoes without depriving him of air. None of the other boys
had taken the trouble to bring mosquito-netting with them, except
Charley, who had a sort of mosquito-netting bag, which he drew over
his head, and which prevented the mosquitoes from getting at his
face and neck.
As for Joe and Tom, the mosquitoes fell upon them with great
enthusiasm, and soon reduced them to a most miserable condition.
Tom was compelled to cover his head with his India-rubber blanket,
and was nearly suffocated. Joe managed to tie a handkerchief over
his face in such a way as to allow himself air enough to breathe,
and at the same time to keep off the mosquitoes. Instead of
covering the rest of his body with his blanket, he deliberately
exposed a bare arm and part of a bare leg, in hopes that he could
thus satisfy the mosquitoes and induce them to be merciful. At
the end of half an hour both Tom and Joe felt that they could
endure the attacks of the insatiable insects no longer. They got
up, and, stirring the embers of the fire, soon started a cheerful
blaze. There were plenty of hemlock-trees close at hand, and the
hemlock-boughs when thrown on the fire gave out a great deal of
smoke. The two unfortunate boys sat in the lee of the fire and
nearly choked themselves with smoke; but they could endure the
smoke better than the mosquitoes, and so they were left alone by
the latter. In the course of the next hour a breeze sprung up,
which blew the mosquitoes away, and the sleepy and nearly stifled
boys were permitted to go to bed and to sleep.
[Illustration: GETTING BREAKFAST UNDER DIFFICULTIES.]
The wind died down before morning, and the mosquitoes returned.
As soon as it was light the canoeists made haste to get breakfast
and to paddle out into the stream. The mosquitoes let them depart
without attempting to follow them; and the boys, anchoring the
canoes by making the ballast-bags fast to the painters, enjoyed an
unmolested bath. As they were careful to anchor where the water was
not quite four feet deep they had no difficulty in climbing into
the canoes after the bath. Joe’s mishap on Lake Memphremagog had
taught them that getting into a canoe in deep water was easier in
theory than in practice.
Later in the morning the usual southerly breeze, which is found
almost every morning on the Richelieu, gave the canoeists the
opportunity of making sail--an opportunity that was all the more
welcome since the cruise down the Magog had been exclusively a
paddling cruise. The breeze was just fresh enough to make it
prudent for the canoes to carry their main-sails only, and to give
the canoeists plenty of employment in watching the gusts that came
through the openings in the woods that lined the western shore.
About twelve miles below Rouse’s Point the fleet reached “Ile aux
Noix,” a beautiful island, in the middle of the stream, with a
somewhat dilapidated fort at its northern end. The boys landed and
examined the fort, and the ruined barracks which stood near it.
The ditch surrounding the fort was half filled with the wooden
palisades which had rotted and fallen into it, and large trees
had sprung up on the grassy slope of the outer wall. The interior
was, however, in good repair, and in one of the granite casemates
lived an Irishman and his wife, who were the entire garrison. In
former years the “Ile aux Noix” fort was one of the most important
defences of the Canadian frontier, and even in its present forlorn
condition it could be defended much longer than could the big
American fort at Rouse’s Point. The boys greatly enjoyed their
visit to the island, and after lunch set sail, determined to make
the most of the fair wind and to reach St. John before night.
The breeze held, and in less than three hours the steeples and
the railway bridge of St. John came in view. The canoeists landed
at the upper end of the town; and Harry and Charley, leaving
the canoes in charge of the other boys, went in search of the
Custom-house officer whose duty it was to inspect all vessels
passing from the United States into Canada by way of the Richelieu
River. Having found the officer, who was a very pleasant man,
and who gave the fleet permission to proceed on its way without
searching the canoes for smuggled goods, Harry and Charley walked
on to examine the rapids, which begin just below the railway
bridge. From St. John to Chambly, a distance of twelve miles,
the river makes a rapid descent, and is entirely unnavigable for
anything except canoes. A canal around the rapids enables canal
boats and small vessels to reach the river at Chambly, where it
again becomes navigable; but the boys did not like the idea of
paddling through the canal, and greatly preferred to run the rapids.
The first rapid was a short but rough one. Still, it was no worse
than the first of the Magog rapids, and Harry and Charley made
up their minds that it could be safely run. The men of whom they
made inquiries as to the rapids farther down said that they were
impassable, and that the canoes had better pass directly into the
canal, without attempting to run even the first rapid. Harry was
inclined to think that this advice was good, but Charley pointed
out that it would be possible to drag the canoes up the bank of the
river and launch them in the canal at any point between St. John
and Chambly, and that it would be time enough to abandon the river
when it should really prove to be impassable.
Returning to the canoes, the Commodore gave the order to prepare to
run the rapids. In a short time the fleet, with the _Sunshine_ in
advance, passed under the bridge; and narrowly escaping shipwreck
on the remains of the wooden piles that once supported a bridge
that had been destroyed by fire, entered the rapid. There was quite
a crowd gathered to watch the canoes as they passed, but those
people who wanted the excitement of seeing the canoes wrecked were
disappointed. Not a drop of water found its way into the cockpit
of a single canoe; and though there was an ugly rock near the end
of the rapid, against which each canoeist fully expected to be
driven as he approached it, the run was made without the slightest
accident.
Drifting down with the current a mile or two below the town, the
boys landed and encamped for the night. While waiting at St. John,
Joe and Tom had provided themselves with mosquito-netting, but they
had little use for it, for only a few mosquitoes made the discovery
that four healthy and attractive boys were within reach. The night
was cool and quiet, and the canoeists, tired with their long day’s
work, slept until late in the morning.
Everything was prepared the next day for running the rapids which
the men at St. John had declared to be impassable. The spars and
all the stores were lashed fast; the sand-bags were placed in the
after-compartments; the painters were rove through the stern-posts,
and the life-belts were placed where they could be buckled on at an
instant’s notice. After making all these preparations it was rather
disappointing to find no rapids whatever between St. John and
Chambly, or rather the Chambly railway bridge.
“It just proves what I said yesterday,” remarked Charley, turning
round in his canoe to speak to his comrades, who were a boat’s
length behind him. “People who live on the banks of a river never
know anything about it. Now, I don’t believe there is a rapid in
the whole Richelieu River, except at St. John. Halloo! keep back,
boys--”
While he was speaking Charley and his canoe disappeared as suddenly
as if the earth, or rather the water, had opened and swallowed
them. The other boys in great alarm backed water, and then paddling
ashore as fast as possible, sprung out of their canoes and ran
along the shore, to discover what had become of Charley. They found
him at the foot of a water-fall of about four feet in height over
which he had been carried. The fall was formed by a long ledge of
rock running completely across the river; and had the boys been
more careful, and had the wind been blowing in any other direction
than directly down the river, they would have heard the sound of
the falling water in time to be warned of the danger into which
Charley had carelessly run.
His canoe had sustained little damage, for it had luckily fallen
where the water was deep enough to keep it from striking the rocky
bottom. Charley had been thrown out as the canoe went over the
fall, but had merely bruised himself a little. He towed his canoe
ashore, and in answer to a mischievous question from Joe admitted
that perhaps the men who had said that the Chambly rapids were
impassable were right.
Below the fall and as far as the eye could reach stretched a fierce
and shallow rapid. The water boiled over and among the rocks with
which it was strewn, and there could not be any doubt that the
rapid was one which could not be successfully run, unless, perhaps,
by some one perfectly familiar with the channel. It was agreed that
the canoes must be carried up to the canal, and after two hours of
hard work the fleet was launched a short distance above one of the
canal locks.
The lock-man did not seem disposed to let the canoes pass through
the lock, but finally accepted fifty cents, and, grumbling to
himself in his Canadian French, proceeded to lock the canoes
through. He paid no attention to the request that he would open the
sluices gradually, but opened them all at once and to their fullest
extent. The result was that the water in the lock fell with great
rapidity; the canoes were swung against one another and against
the side of the lock, and Charley’s canoe, catching against a bolt
in one of the upper gates, was capsized and sunk to the bottom,
leaving her captain clinging to the stern of the _Sunshine_.