Silence followed Cora's startling announcement--that is comparative
silence, for the rain, hissing into the river, and pelting on the deck
and cabin roof, made quite a noise.
"What's that you say?" demanded Walter, arising from a stern locker
where he had been talking more or less nonsense to Hazel.
"Run ashore?" echoed Jack.
"At least I suppose it's the shore," said Cora, who had stopped the
engine, the controls being near the wheel. "There aren't any islands in
this part of the river; are there?"
"Not one," said Jack. "It is the shore," he confirmed after a look
through the cabin window.
"Any damage done, Sis?"
"Not to the shore, at any rate. We didn't hit very hard. I saw something
looming up through the mist and slowed down."
"We must be up to Riverhead all right," remarked Bess. "Though I haven't
noticed anything like a town."
"You couldn't notice much of anything in this rain," Cora said. "We're
not aground, at all events," for they could feel the boat moving down
stream under the influence of the current.
"Switch on the searchlight and see if we can discover where we are,"
suggested Belle.
"Good idea," commented Captain Cora. A push of a button and the small
but powerful searchlight, mounted amidships on the cabin roof, gleamed
out. It was operated by a storage battery, which, in turn, was charged
by a small dynamo connected to the engine fly wheel. And by means of a
worm gear, operated by a wheel near the steering apparatus, the light
could be deflected in any direction.
Cora trained it on the bank. Looking through the rain-covered windows of
the cabin the girls, and their boy guests, saw a water-soaked bank,
covered with bushes and rushes. It was dusk now.
"That doesn't look like Riverhead," commented Jack.
"More like river-end," said Paul. "Where in the world are we?"
"Don't ask me!" exclaimed Cora, a trifle nervously. "I'm sure I did the
best I could in the mist."
"Of course you did, Sis," said her brother soothingly. "It isn't any
one's fault. We're all right. The boat doesn't seem to be damaged by
trying to poke her pretty nose into the bank, and if we can't go on to
Camp Surprise in the darkness and rain we can go to some hotel and stay.
There's one in Riverhead."
Just then, into the radiance of the searchlight stepped a man clad in
yellow oilskins, rubber boots and with a sou'wester on his head.
"I'll ask him," said Jack. "He'll tell us where we are."
The individual--evidently a fisherman, as indicated by his unjointed pole
and a basket--stopped in some surprise as he saw the big motor boat so
close to shore, with lights gleaming and the powerful beams of the one
on the cabin roof setting him out in bold relief in its glare.
"How far to Riverhead, if you please?" called Jack, sliding back one of
the cabin windows.
"Riverhead?" cried the man, and surprise was plain in his voice. "Why,
Riverhead's over on the Chelton side, about ten miles from here."
"On the Chelton side!" repeated Jack. "Isn't this the Chelton?"
"No. This is Batter Creek," the man explained. "The Chelton river
branches off to the right, six miles down. You must have taken the left
turn where Batter Creek runs into it. First you know you'll be up in the
swamp."
"Good-_night_!" cried Jack, with a tragic gesture.
"On Batter Creek!" echoed Walter.
"Ten miles from Riverhead!" was Cora's gasping remark.
"No wonder the poor boat ran ashore," commented Bess. "She'd rather do
that than get lost in a swamp."
"So this is Batter Creek," went on Jack. "I see how it happened. You
steered over to the left at the junction, Cora, instead of following the
right shore--I mean the right hand shore."
"I suppose I must have," Cora admitted. "But I couldn't see in all that
storm."
"Of course not," said Hazel, slipping her arm around Cora's waist. "It
wasn't your fault."
"Certainly not," added Walter and Paul in a duet.
"Jack, please shut the window," begged Belle. "That is, if you have
finished talking to that man. The damp wind will----"
"Take all the frizz out of your hair--I know!" Jack cut in. "All right.
Much obliged to you, sir," he continued.
"Don't mention it," replied the man of the yellow oilskins. "Quite a
drizzle; isn't it?"
"Regular Scotch mist!" chuckled Walter, in exaggerated Highland accents.
"I suppose we can get to Riverhead by turning around, following the left
shore here until we come to the place where Batter Creek runs into the
Chelton, and then go up the river?" suggested Jack, as he slowly slid
the window shut.
"That's right," returned the fisherman. "But don't go up this creek any
further, or you'll run aground in a swamp."
"Thanks," called Jack. "Oh, I say, are you going or coming?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean have you been fishing, or are you just going?"
"Just going. They always bite pretty well for me in a rain."
"Oh. I thought maybe if you had any we'd buy 'em."
"Sorry, but I haven't anything but shiners for bait. I'm going down to
the deep water."
"What in the world did you want to buy fish for, Jack?" asked his sister
as he closed the window, and the yellow figure splashed away.
"To eat," was his answer. "We've got to have supper; haven't we?"
"But can't we go on to Riverhead, and then to the bungalow?" asked Bess.
"Hardly," declared Jack. "It isn't so late, of course. But this rain is
going to keep up, if I'm any judge, and though we might manage to reach
Riverhead, we certainly couldn't undertake a ride over the mountain
trail in an open buckboard in this downpour."
"But what are we going to do?" cried Hazel, opening her eyes wide. She
seemed in much distress.
"Do? Why, stay right here, my dear," said Jack. "That is, if you will
allow that poetic license--because 'dear' rhymes with 'here.'"
"Oh," murmured Hazel, blushing. "Stay here?"
"We have remained on board over night," Cora remarked. "But we'll be a
bit crowded," and she glanced appraisingly at Jack and his chums.
"Don't worry about us, Sis," he hastened to assure her. "We can bunk
anywhere, or sit up. I don't feel sleepy anyhow."
"But we've got to eat," said Walter. "Too bad that chap didn't have any
fish. We could have fried them on the gasoline stove." The _Corbelbes_
was fitted up with a little galley, the girls often having stayed on
board for days at a time.
"Maybe we can catch some ourselves," suggested Paul.
"No outfit or bait," remarked Jack.
"A bent pin and a piece of string?" suggested Paul, but not with any
degree of enthusiasm.
"Well, we've got to do something," Cora declared. She had again set the
engine in motion, but it was running only fast enough to overcome the
sluggish current in the creek.
"Stay here," urged Jack. "We know where we are now, but if we go down
stream in the darkness we may fetch up at a place we don't know."
"You mean tie up here?" asked his sister.
"Sure. Cast the anchor, set the riding lights, make everything snug
below and aloft, my captainess, and turn in. Set an anchor watch, heave
the lead, and 'ware the lee shore and breakers ahead! Yo ho! My
hearties! The stormy winds do blow, do blow, do blow!" and Jack began
howling an old sea-song at the top of his voice.
"Jack, be quiet!" insisted Cora. "You'll arouse the neighborhood."
"There aren't any neighbors here," he laughed. "The only one there was
has gone fishing, and he doesn't mind! Yo, he ho!"
"I guess to tie up is the best thing to do," said Paul, and there was
something in his manner that caused Cora to say:
"All right, Jack. Drop the anchor, and we'll stay here for the night."
"And then see about something to eat," suggested Walter.
Jack made a dash outside, shoved over the anchor, took a turn of the
cable about a deck cleat and came back into the cabin. The _Corbelbes_
was tied up for the night.