COOT BREWER TAKES THE HELM.
The boys did not start for Lowper’s Creek and the alligators as soon
as they expected. They found that a good deal of talk, and a good many
preparations were necessary before they could get off.
The colonel did not altogether approve of the plan, but when he was
assured that the boys could all swim, he said he reckoned no harm would
come to them, and that they might as well be off on a trip of this kind
as lounging around the hotel.
He called Bob, and gave orders than an abundance of provisions, enough
to last the party till the following afternoon, should be immediately
got ready. He also furnished them with a little oil-stove, on which to
boil their coffee on board the boat.
“You see I’m not going to lose anything by your going up the creek,”
he said. “I’ll keep your rooms for you, and furnish your meals. It’ll
cost you just as much, whether you sleep among the ’gators or among
Christians.”
The boys assured him that they had not the slightest idea of his making
any reduction on account of the trip.
“I expect you fellows laugh,” he said, “at my keeping you straight up
to terms when I’m going to let you go away without paying me a red, but
I do my business on a business basis. I don’t give you anything, and I
expect to get back all that’s owing to me. Do you understand that?”
The boys understood it perfectly.
In the matter of hiring rifles, there was some little trouble. The
colonel had but one, and there was no other rifle in the town at that
time to be had excepting the weapon which, with a small shot-gun, had
been captured from the men on board of the Maggie, and given to the
colonel.
The latter had heard the story of the theft of The Rolling Stone, and
had made no remark whatever on the subject, except that he would take
charge of the guns, and keep them till they were called for.
Chap proposed that they should take this rifle, and pay the young men
for the use of it, but this the colonel positively refused to allow.
The gun had been hired in the town, and he would keep it until the
persons who had taken it should appear.
So they were obliged to be content with but one rifle, although Brewer
said that his brother’s shot-gun, loaded with buckshot, would do as
well for a ’gator as a bear, if they could only get near enough.
“What are you going to do with the ’gators you kill?” asked the
colonel, when the boys were about to start.
“Oh, Mr. Brewer is going to prepare the skins and teeth of some of
them, and send them on to us,” said Phil.
“Do you hear that?” roared the colonel, to some men on the other side
of the room. “Coot Brewer is going to polish the teeth and tan the
hides of the ’gators these young men kill, and send them on to them at
the North.”
At this announcement there was a general laugh, during which the boys
left.
“He thinks we can’t kill alligators,” said Chap; “but, then, all these
people suppose we’re city boys, just because we come from the North. I
believe most folks down here have an idea that the whole North is built
up solid with houses, like one great town, and it’s no use telling them
we’ve been using guns ever since we were big enough to hold them.”
The Rolling Stone was found at the end of the pier, with Coot Brewer
in it, and the row-boat which he had borrowed made fast to the stern.
Adam was also there, having left his work to see them off.
“Be careful you don’t shoot each other,” was his parting injunction,
“and don’t haul in any ’gator till you’re sure he’s dead.”
The boys agreed to remember these admonitions, and everything having
been put aboard, The Rolling Stone set sail up the river, with a good
wind almost directly from the south, which, as they were sailing
northward, ought to have carried them rapidly along; but for some
reason or other, the boat did not seem to behave as well as when Adam
was at the helm.
Coot Brewer put her directly before the wind, and sometimes she would
sail on at a good rate, and then she would begin to rock, the end of
her boom almost dipping into the water as she went over on that side.
Phœnix had just remarked that the boat had never been so much like a
rolling stone as now, when the motion became so violent that Brewer was
a little frightened, and put her about so suddenly that the boom came
round with tremendous force, just grazing the top of Chap’s head.
“I should think that sort of thing would upset her,” said Phil, who did
not look upon Coot Brewer as much of a sailor.
“But it didn’t, you see,” remarked the helmsman, complacently. “She’s a
pretty stiff little boat.”
After this, they tacked across the river for a while. Then they went
before the wind again. Then they lay to while Mr. Brewer took in some
reefs of the main-sail, which he said he would have done before had he
thought about it.
“It’ll make it easier for your heads,” he said, “if she jibes.”
After a sail which lasted a great deal longer than Mr. Brewer said it
would, the boat arrived at the mouth of the creek.
“You can’t sail up the creek, you know,” said Brewer. “We go up there
in the dinky. The way to hunt the ’gators here is to row up the creek
a good long way, and then haul in oars and float down. That don’t
frighten ’em, you see, and you kin easy git near enough to shoot ’em.
But it’s too late to go up this evenin’, and so we’d better anchor the
boat, git our supper, and go to bed, so’s to be up bright and airly
to-morrow mornin’. We kin kill all the ’gators we want before noon, and
then we’ll have plenty of time to git back to town before it’s dark.”
This plan was agreed to, although the boys had hoped to begin their
sport that afternoon, and the night was spent on the boat at the mouth
of the creek.
“Do you hear ’em roarin’ over there?” asked Mr. Brewer, after they had
gone to bed. “I tell you we’ll have splendid times to-morrow!”
[Illustration]