_A Roar of Laughter from Bruce.--End of this tremendous
Adventure.--Reticence of the whole Party on the Subject.--No one can
taunt the other.--Departure from the Haunt of the Buccaneers.--The
Antelope expands her white Wings, but in vain.--The Precautions of the
venerable Corbet against dead Calms.--All labor at the Sweeps.--The
Solace of Toil.--What Vessel are you gliding in?--Taking to the
Boat.--Tumbling into Bed._
SUDDENLY a roar of laughter burst from Bruce.
“It’s a dog! It’s a dog!” he cried.--“Tom’s shark’s turned out to be a
dog!”
And saying this, he burst into another roar of laughter. The laughter
proved contagious. Arthur and Phil both joined in. Their recent horror
had been so great, that this sudden and unexpected turn affected them in
a comical way, and the reaction was in proportion to their former panic
fear. So their laughter was loud, boisterous, and unrestrained.
At the very moment when this cry had burst forth from Bruce, together
with the peals of laughter, Tom had shrunk back in horror from the black
muzzle that appeared on his right. But as he did so, and at the very
moment of this horror in which his eyes were fixed on the monster, this
monster became plainly revealed, and he saw it as it was.
He saw, what Bruce and the others now saw--a dog! a dog whose long,
sharp muzzle and forehead were above the water, as also part of his back
and his tail. He was a hound of some kind. Where he had come from, or
where he was going to, or why he had appeared among them, they were, of
course, unable to conjecture. Their whole recent terror had thus been
the result of pure fancy in Tom’s case, and in the case of the others
the result of Tom’s first shriek of alarm. In the case of all of them,
however, the whole trouble was owing to the belief, of which they
were not yet able to divest themselves, that this cove was some very
sequestered spot. So convinced had they been of this, that even the
sight of a public road had not altogether disabused them. They had been
determined to find here the haunt of the buccaneers, and were
unwilling to think that it might be a common resort, or even a regular
thoroughfare. And therefore, when Torn had first caught sight of this
black muzzle appearing above the surface of the water, he had been
incapable of thinking about anything except a shark; and the horror that
this thought created within him had been communicated to the others by
his cries. Tom was the real cause of the whole mistake, and no one felt
this more keenly than Tom himself; yet the others were all too much
ashamed of their own recent terrors to twit or taunt him with his
unfounded alarm.
The dog now swam alongside of Tom, and a little ahead of him, turning
once or twice, and showing his face--not the cruel face of a monster of
the deep, but the mild, humane, civilized, and benevolent countenance
of a hound of the highest respectability; a face the sight of which made
Tom feel renewed shame at his foolish and baseless fears.
The other boys walked up to the beach, and Tom soon joined them. The
hound joined them also. He was a very friendly dog, and shook himself
so violently that they all received a shower-bath from him. They patted
him, and petted him, and stroked him; and these friendly advances of
theirs were received in the politest possible manner by the well-bred
hound, who finally planted himself on his haunches in the attitude known
to dogs as “begging,” which so affected the boys, that they would
have given him some biscuit if their coats had not unfortunately been
elsewhere. But the dog had evidently his own business to attend to, for
after a short delay he took his leave, and trotted up the road. This
sudden and unexpected turn which had been given to what had, at one
time, seemed like the most terrible of tragedies, rapidly restored their
strength and spirits, in spite of the tremendous sensations which they
had but recently experienced, and the exertions which they had put
forth. They now prepared to return to the place where they had left
their clothes; and since the fear of sharks had departed, they took
to the water again, and soon reached the knoll. Here they clothed
themselves, and prepared to return to the schooner.
On reaching the Antelope, they were all sensible of the most extreme
fatigue and prostration. The exertions which they had made in the ascent
and descent of Aspotogon, and more especially in their efforts to escape
the imaginary shark, were the cause of this in part; but a greater cause
existed in the intense excitement and terror to which they had been
subject. They were fortunate, however, in having such a place of refuge
as the hold of the Antelope, for there they found awaiting them a
dinner, prepared by Solomon, in which that famous cook had surpassed
himself, and had turned out the rarest specimens of the culinary art.
Their exertions had sharpened their appetites, and the long time that
had elapsed since breakfast made this dinner seem like a banquet. It
acted upon them all like a charm. Their physical natures were refreshed,
and their moral natures also.
Strength came to their bodies, and at the same time to their minds.
The affair of the shark was not mentioned. Under other circumstances,
Bruce, and Arthur, and Phil might have taunted Tom with his absurd
mistake; but as it was, they were all too much ashamed of their own
fears, and of their own part in the affair. The consequence was, that
all, with one consent, allowed the matter to drop, and made no reference
to it whatever.
After dinner they went upon deck, and found all sail set, and the
Antelope on her way back to Chester. But there was no wind whatever; it
was a dead calm, and consequently the return to Chester was not likely
to be accomplished very speedily. There was, from time to time, a faint
puff of wind, it is true, which served, perhaps, to prevent the calm
from being so dead as it might have been; yet, after all, their motion
was so slight, and their progress so slow, that after two hours they had
not put much more than a mile between themselves and the shore.
It was about four o’clock when they returned from Deep Cove to the
Antelope. By six o’clock they had not made more than this one mile. The
boys were now anxious to get back to Chester for various reasons. First,
they wanted to have a good night’s rest at the inn. Secondly, they
wanted to see the landlord, and ask him all about Deep Cove. Thirdly,
they wanted to see Bart and Pat, and tell them about their wonderful
discovery of the “Mound,” and their theory about the buried treasure.
But the failure of the wind made it seem impossible for them to get back
to Chester that night, and there was some talk of anchoring. To this,
however, the boys would not listen, and they urged Captain Corbet to
keep on and take advantage of any slight puffs of wind that might arise
from time to time. Against this request Captain Corbet had no objections
to offer, and so it was that the Antelope still moved on.
The Antelope therefore still held her sails expanded to catch any breath
of wind that might arise, while the boys lounged along the taffrail,
looking impatiently around. At another time they would not have failed
to admire the beauty of the scene--the blue sea washing the long line of
shore, and surrounding the numerous isles; but on the present occasion,
they were too impatient and too tired to be affected by it. Time thus
passed, and at length the sun went down in the western sky in a blaze
of glory. By that time the boys found themselves approaching an island,
which was about three miles from Aspotogon, and which thus indicated to
them the distance which they had gone since leaving Deep Cove. Less than
three miles in four hours had been their rate of progress.
The sun thus set, and the moon had now come out, throwing a gentler glow
upon the scene, and lighting it up with wonderful beauty. The edges
of the hills, and the outlines of the islands seemed all tipped with
silver. On one side appeared Aspotogon, and Ironbound, and Tancook,
rising out of the dark, shadowy water; while on the other side the
islands shone in the lustre of the moon, and there, too, a broad pathway
of radiant light lay outspread upon the surface of the water, reaching
from the schooner to the horizon, where a low coast bounded the scene.
Never had Ma-hone Bay appeared clothed in greater loveliness.
Captain Corbet had learned a very useful lesson during this last voyage
of the Antelope, and that was to have some means on board by which
he would not drift so helplessly. The long drifts which had borne him
hither and thither over the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and over the ocean,
had left a deep impression; and accordingly he had taken advantage of
this visit to Chester to procure a pair of long sweeps, which may be
described as oars of the largest size. On the present occasion, the
sweeps were brought into requisition, one of them being worked by
Turnbull, Bruce, and Phil, while the other was taken in hand by Wade,
Arthur, and Tom. The venerable Corbet stood at the helm and steered,
while Solomon stood at the bows, gazing pensively into space, and, as
Tom declared, attitudinizing for a figure-head.
The sweeps were moved with very long, slow strokes. The two parties who
managed them at first made an effort to work them in time, but at length
gave this up, and each made their stroke at random, without reference to
the others. Whether the Antelope made any progress or not, was not for
a long time perceptible; but still the boys all felt as though they were
doing something, and the lapse of time certainly seemed to bring them
nearer to the island which they had been so long approaching.
The exercise was a pleasant one, and in order to cheer their spirits,
they burst forth into songs. One was volunteered by Tom.
What vessel are you gliding in?
Pray tell to me its name;
Our vessel is the Antelope,
And Corbet is my name,
And Corbet is my name,
And Corbet is my name;
Our vessel is the Antelope,
And Corbet is my name.
At this Captain Corbet’s venerable face was all suffused with sudden
smiles.
“Why railly.” said he, “railly now, dew tell. Why, ef you ain’t ben an
done it agin. Only think, more rimes about me. Why, it doos beat
all. How upon airth dew you ever manage to fix em up that way? It
doos--beat--my--grandmother!”
Other songs followed, till almost everything was made use of that they
had ever heard--the Canadian Boat Song, the Maltese Boat Song, and
others of a kindred character, including “Hail to the Chief,” and
“March! March! Ettrick, and Teviotdale.” In this way the time was
beguiled, and their toil at the long sweeps lightened.
Around them the whole scene glowed in the moonlight. The silver islands
set in silver seas, clothed in soft lustre, lay reflected in the smooth
water. Overhead the moon hung in a cloudless sky, and lightened up all
things with its soft and mellow radiance. They could see also by the
change in their position, which they noticed from time to time, that
they were actually making some progress with their sweeps, and the
discovery, when it was made, encouraged them not a little.
So at it they all went again, more vigorously than ever, and sang new
songs, some of which were of a kind never before heard in these waters.
One in particular, which was sung to a remarkable fugue tune, was called
Ode to Disappointment.