HOW THE "GOOD AND SURE" BROUGHT TROUBLE
The two or three hours of the midsummer Labrador night were long hours
for Bobby and Jimmy--the longest hours they had ever experienced. At
intervals, guiding their course by the stars, they paddled, and this
drove away the deadening chill that threatened to overcome them.
But at last dawn came, and with the growing light the sense of
helplessness which had enveloped them during the period of darkness fell
away, and to some extent Bobby's confidence, hopefulness, and buoyancy
of spirits returned, and he rallied Jimmy, also, into a better frame of
mind.
"Hurrah!" shouted Bobby, at length. "See there, Jimmy!"
And Jimmy, looking, saw upon the western horizon a long, gray line.
"Why, there's the land!" he exclaimed.
"Isn't it great to see it again!" said Bobby.
"Let's paddle hard, and see if we can't make it. The tide's been
drifting us in, and the paddling we've done in the night has been
helping."
"It didn't seem to, but it must have," agreed Jimmy, working as hard as
he could with his short paddle. "The exercise kept me warm, and that's
about the only good I thought it was doing, but it did help, didn't it?"
"It certainly did," agreed Bobby. "My, but I'm hungry!"
"So am I," said Jimmy. "Won't the sun feel good when it rises?"
"I wonder which way we lie from home?"
"South, of course, for that's the drift of the current. All the bergs
drift south."
"Yes, but how far?"
"Oh, I don't know, but we must be some bit south of the island."
And so they calculated and chatted, while the glow grew in the eastern
sky, and until the sun rose, at last, to comfort them and warm stiffened
fingers and chilled bodies. But with the sun a westerly breeze also set
in to retard them, and their progress was tedious and slow.
The shore still lay a long way off, though a little nearer than when
they first discovered it in the morning light, and Bobby had just
remarked that they had gained a little, when Jimmy suddenly ceased
paddling, and rising to his feet gazed eagerly to the southward.
"What is it?" asked Bobby. "What do you see?"
"A sail! A sail!" Jimmy almost shouted a moment later. "I wasn't sure at
first, but now I'm certain!"
Bobby was on his feet in an instant, and the two, balancing themselves
dexterously while the skiff rose and fell upon the swell, watched
excitedly as the sail increased in size.
"It's a schooner!" said Jimmy.
"And it'll pick us up!" said Bobby.
"If it doesn't pass too far to windward to see us," suggested Jimmy.
"They'll be sure to see us," insisted the optimistic Bobby. "They can't
pass between us and the land without seeing us."
And so it came to pass. Nearer and nearer the schooner drew, until at
length her whole black hull was visible, and then Bobby and Jimmy took
off their jackets and waved them and waved them, until presently men
crowded at the rail of the schooner and waved in answer, and in due
time, when the schooner came abreast of them, a boat was lowered, and
pointed directly toward them.
"Now we'll be all right," said Bobby, with immense relief, as they
watched the four long oars, pulled by four husky men, rise and fall and
glint in the sunshine, while a fifth man sculled astern. "They'll either
drop us in at Itigailit Island or lend us oars for the skiff!"
"Yes, and it's great luck for us that they saw us," remarked Jimmy. "I
don't believe we ever could have made land with these short paddles."
"The first thing I want is something to eat and drink," declared Bobby.
"I'm getting hungrier every minute."
But the boat was upon them already, and they were soon to have a plenty
to eat, and the adventure after all had amounted to nothing but a little
inconvenience. It was all in a day's work, and already they had
forgotten the dismal night, or if they had not in fact forgotten it they
had at least put it behind them as an experience of small importance.
"Look sharp now, lads!" shouted the man at the sculling oar, as the boat
and the skiff, rising and falling upon the swell, approached each other.
"Look sharp! Now, heave her, b'y!"
And Jimmy, in the bow of the skiff, with coiled painter ready, tossed it
to one of the men. The boats were straightened out, the skiff drawn
alongside, and in a moment Jimmy and Bobby were aboard, with Skipper
Ed's skiff trailing behind.
"Why, it's Skipper Ed's partner an' Abel Zachariah's lad! My eyes! My
eyes now! And whatever brings you driftin' around the sea at this time
of the mornin', and with nary an oar?" exclaimed the man astern, who
proved to be Captain Higgles of the Newfoundland fishing schooner _Good
and Sure_, who for as long as the lads could remember had anchored for
at least one night each summer on his outward voyage down north, or on
his homeward voyage south, in the shelter of the island upon which
Skipper Ed had always fished, or behind Itigailit Island. And so it
happened that Captain Higgles recognized Bobby and Jimmy, and they
recognized him.
"Oh," explained Bobby, "we were getting ice off a berg yesterday, when
she shifted and turned us over and we lost our oars."
"Yesterday, was it? And so you young scallawags ha' been cruisin' about
since yesterday, eh, with nary an oar. Now listen t' that, b'ys!
Cruisin' around with nary an oar! My eyes! Oh, my eyes!" and the captain
roared with laughter, as though it were a great joke, and the four
seamen laughed with him.
"And neither of you'd be eatin' a biscuit, an' drinkin' a mug o' tea,
now, if you had un!" he continued. "I'll be bound both o' you young
daredevils'd turn up your nose at a mug o' tea and a biscuit, now.
Wouldn't ye?"
"No, sir," said Jimmy, "we wouldn't turn up our nose at anything good to
eat."
"I could eat the oarlocks this minute!" broke in Bobby.
At which Captain Higgles exclaimed, "My eyes! Oh, my eyes!" and indulged
in another burst of hearty guffaws.
"Well, b'ys," said the captain, "I know how you feels, an' I knows where
you'll get th' tea and th' biscuit. An' th' cook aboard th' _Good an'
Sure_'ll show you."
"Thank you," said Bobby.
'"Twere lucky I sees you," continued the captain. "There's a sick lad
with a rash aboard, an' it's a wonderful troublesome rash, and makes he
sick. I were just turnin' in t' see Skipper Ed, thinkin' he might know
what t' do for the little lad t' relieve he, when we sights you."
"What, sir!" exclaimed Jimmy, "are we as far south as that?"
"Aye," said the captain, "we're just t' th' s'uth'ard o' Skipper Ed's
fishin' place. An' weren't you comin' from there when you goes adrift?"
"No, sir," explained Jimmy. "Partner and I are down at Itigailit Island
with Abel Zachariah this year, and we went adrift from there."
"An' there we goes, then!" said the captain. "Another hour's sail, but
time saved. Lucky for you that we sights you, an' lucky for th' sick
lad, an' lucky for me--lucky all around. My eyes! 'Tis like t' be a
lucky day."
And so it came about that Bobby and Jimmy were presently aboard the
_Good and Sure_, satisfying an accumulated and vast appetite upon
Captain Higgles' good hardtack and tea, while the schooner laid her
course for Itigailit Island.
An hour later, as the captain had predicted, the _Good and Sure_ came to
off Abel Zachariah's fishing place, and almost before the anchor chains
had ceased rattling Skipper Ed and Abel pulled alongside in a boat and
were expressing their relief upon the safe return of the two lads, whose
sudden and unexplained disappearance had puzzled them and caused them a
deal of worry.
"I finds th' young scallawags driftin' around th' sea, and bearin' no
course whatever," explained Captain Higgles, "an' I picks un up as
salvage. But I don't want un. My eyes! I don't want un. I don't want any
such two scallawags as they about the _Good an' Sure_. They'd be causin'
me no end o' trouble, and you can have un free o' charge if you'll but
take a look at a sick lad I has below, sir, an' tell us what t' do for
un. 'Tis Hen. Blink's lad, sir. He has a wonderful rash all over he--my
eyes, 'tis a wonderful rash, and it makes th' lad sick."
Skipper Ed followed the captain to the cluttered little cabin, and Abel
and Jimmy and Bobby, curious to see the wonderful rash, also followed.
The lad, a boy of ten years or thereabouts, was stretched upon a bunk,
and he was indeed afflicted with a wonderful rash. The moment Skipper Ed
set eyes upon him his face assumed a very grave expression. He asked
several questions, which the child's mother answered, and then he asked
the boy:
"How you feeling, little lad?"
"Terrible sick," answered the boy, "but I'd be fine if I could go above
deck, sir."
"'Twill never do for you to go above deck with this rash," said Skipper
Ed, "but there'll be better luck by and by, lad; better luck, lad."
And then he directed the mother to give the child no cold drink, to keep
him below decks, and not on any account to permit him to become chilled
until the rash had disappeared and he felt quite well and normal again.
To this he added some simple directions as to food.
"Is I goin' t' die?" asked the boy anxiously.
"No, no, lad, not if you do as your mother tells you, now. You'll be
all right, but it'll be some time. Can't weigh your anchor and hoist
your sails for a little while. Better luck by and by, though."
"What's th' matter with un, Skipper?" asked Captain Higgles when they
were again on deck.
"Measles," answered Skipper Ed.
"Measles! Measles!" exclaimed the Captain in instant consternation. "My
eyes! Oh--my--eyes! And we're all like to cotch measles! And measles
kills folks! Oh--my--eyes! 'Tis like t' ruin th' v'yage!"
"'Tis too bad, but it can't be helped," Skipper Ed sympathized. "The lad
has the measles, and if any of you haven't had measles you're likely to
get 'em now. The only thing for you to do if any one breaks out with the
rash, is to treat him just as I said to treat the boy. Don't let 'em go
out or get chilled till the rash is well."
"My eyes!" said Captain Higgles. "Measles! 'Tis a wonderful dangerous
complaint. I minds when th' folks cotched un one summer in Black Run
Harbor, and most every one that cotched un died! Oh, my eyes!"
"Aye, 'tis like t' be a dangerous complaint down here on The Labrador,
where we folk have poor means for caring for our sick," agreed Skipper
Ed, dropping into the dialect of the people, as he often did when
conversing with them. "But you have a schooner, and you're not so badly
off as we are in our tents."
"My eyes!" repeated Captain Higgles. "Measles! 'Tis like t' ruin th'
v'yage!"
The _Good and Sure_ spread her canvas and sailed away that morning, and
quite as though nothing had occurred to disturb the even tenor of their
every-day existence Abel Zachariah and Skipper Ed and Bobby and Jimmy
turned their attention to jigging cod, and Mrs. Abel to splitting the
fish and spreading them to dry, and all worked from morning until night
each day, that none of the harvest might be lost, for that year there
was a plentiful run of fish.
But Skipper Ed had something on his mind. After the departure of the
_Good and Sure_ his face looked troubled, and more than once he
murmured, "Better luck, I hope. Better luck." And as the days passed his
anxiety increased, and Bobby and Jimmy frequently surprised him looking
intently at them.
Then came a morning when Bobby complained of feeling ill, and Skipper Ed
directed that he must not go with the others of them to jig, but must
remain in the tent, and he prepared a hot drink for Bobby, and wrapped
the lad warmly in blankets. That very day Jimmy, too, fell ill, and Abel
fell ill, and a day later Mrs. Abel also complained. "Measles," said
Skipper Ed.
And measles it was, and a serious condition of affairs confronted
Skipper Ed. He gave up his fishing and devoted his whole attention to
his four patients, and he thanked the Lord that he himself had passed
through the ordeal as a child, and was immune.
Because the people on the Labrador can seldom be brought to understand
that a patient with this ailment must be kept warm and free from
exposure or chill until the period of rash is passed, it is too often a
fatal disease there--and an epidemic is sure to result in many deaths.
In tent life, in time of gales and driving storms, it is frequently
difficult, and sometimes indeed impossible, to properly care for the
patients, for the tents of the people are seldom stormproof or
rainproof.
And so it was that Skipper Ed, who was not only nurse but cook, was more
than occupied. There were times when confinement grew irksome to his
patients, and at those times he was compelled to resort even to force to
prevent one or another from going out into the chilling sea breeze. And
one morning Bobby did evade him and go out, and became chilled, and the
following day lay, as Skipper Ed verily believed, at the door of death.