THE SLOOP, "PEGGY"
The sloop, "Peggy," was becalmed. Anne, Amanda and Amos looked over the
smooth stretch of water, but there was not a ripple to be seen. Since
sunrise, the boat had not moved. They had made the start at midnight, as
they had planned, and had sailed away under a fair wind; but before the
sun rose the wind had died away, and the mainsail now swung back and forth
and the boat drifted slowly with the current.
None of the children had thought of bringing a jug of fresh water, and the
salt fish and corn bread which they had brought along for food made them
very thirsty.
"We're off Barnstable now," said Amos. "I've a mind to let the boat drift
in nearer shore and anchor, and then row ashore in the tender and get some
water."
[Illustration: THE BOAT BEGAN TO TIP]
"How far is Barnstable from Boston?" asked Anne.
"Miles and miles," answered Amos. "'Tis only about half-way up the cape
from Province Town."
"Then we could not walk to Boston from there?"
"No," said Amos; "why should we walk? There'll be a good breeze come
sunset. All we need is a good drink of water, and there's a water-jug in
the cabin. I can take it ashore and fill it at some spring."
As the children talked, the current had carried the boat steadily toward
shore, but now it did not move.
"She's stuck on a sand-bar," exclaimed Amos, "and the tide's turning.
Perhaps I can walk ashore."
It was not long before the boat began to tip to one side, and as the tide
went out, they found themselves on a sand-bar, a full half mile from
shore. The water seemed to flow in little channels, like wide brooks, here
and there, between the boat and the land, and Amos wondered if he could
either jump or wade those channels. The hot July sun beat down upon them,
they were very thirsty and uncomfortable, and Amanda began to wish herself
at home.
"We ought not to have started," she said, ready to cry. "I know my mother
won't like it, and Mistress Stoddard will not like it, either."
Anne was very quiet. She was thirsty, hot and uncomfortable, and being run
aground on a sand-bar near a strange shore was a very different thing from
her other prosperous voyage with Captain Enos. What if they should never
reach Boston at all?
"They will all think that we have run away this time," said Amos, who had
stepped over the side of the boat onto the sand-bar.
"Oh, no, they won't," said Anne. "I wrote on a smooth chip, 'Amanda and
Amos and I have gone to Boston to find my father,' and put it on the
kitchen table."
"I believe I could get across those channels some way," declared Amos,
"and I am so thirsty that I'm going to try it."
Amanda brought him the small stone jug from the cabin, and telling the
girls not even to step out of the boat until he came back, Amos started
for the shore. They saw him wade the first channel, run across a long
stretch of wet sand, cross the other channel and reach the shore safely.
"Goody!" exclaimed Amanda; "now he will find a spring, fill the jug and
hurry back, and we can have a good drink of water," and she turned
smilingly to Anne. But Anne was looking very sober. She had been thinking
over her other trip, and now remembered what Mrs. Stoddard had said when
she returned from Boston.
"Oh, Amanda!" she said, looking ready to cry, "when I ran off before with
Uncle Enos, Aunt Martha did tell me that I must never do so again. Now I
have disobeyed her, and perhaps she will not want me to live with her any
more."
"Then you can live with your father," answered Amanda cheerfully.
"But my father was to live with us," said Anne. "He was to have the big,
pleasant loft that looks toward the water, and was to help Uncle Enos with
the fishing. Perhaps they will not want either of us since I have been so
unruly and disobedient."
Amanda longed to tell Anne that she should have a home with her, but she
remembered that the white kitten had to be given away because they could
not afford to keep it, and so kept silent.
"I hope Amos will not linger," she said, after a little silence. "He
forgets that we are as thirsty as he is."
The little girls watched the shore anxiously, expecting every minute to
see Amos hurrying back with a jug full of fresh water, but time passed and
he did not come.
"I think the tide has turned," said Amanda. "See, the channels are
widening every minute. If Amos does not come soon the water will be too
deep. Oh, dear! I am afraid something has befallen him."
"What could befall him?" questioned Anne. "'Tis a smooth and pleasant
shore, with much taller trees than grow about Province Town. He is just
playing about and has forgotten us."
Anne was nearly right, for after Amos had found a fine boiling spring and
had drunk all he wanted and then filled his jug, he had sat down to rest
under a wide-spreading oak tree. The day was hot, he was very tired and
sleepy, having been awake all the night before, and without forgetting the
"Peggy" or her crew, he dropped gently off to sleep. The tide came in,
lifted the "Peggy" from the sand-bar and a gentle breeze carried her
steadily out from shore, and Amos slept on, knowing nothing of what had
happened. The sun was very low in the western sky when he awoke. He sat
up, rubbed his eyes, snatched up the jug and ran to the shore, but there
was no boat to be seen.
Amos was now thoroughly frightened. He ran up and down the quiet shore,
calling the name of his boat and shouting, "Amanda!" "Anne!" at the top of
his voice. The shadows of the summer night deepened, a little haze rose
over the water, and Amos, crouching down near the water's edge, waited for
night to come.
"I know I shall never sleep any more," he whispered to himself, hardly
daring to think of what might happen to the little girls. He wished that
he had lowered the mainsail before coming ashore.
"I ought to have dropped anchor, anyway," he said aloud, and almost forgot
to be hungry in his anxiety.
The shadows grew deeper, night settled down on land and sea and Amos went
fast asleep again, with his bare feet almost within reach of the waves
that rolled so softly up over the smooth sand.
Anne and Amanda watched the tide come in about the "Peggy," and soon felt
the boat move under them. Then the mainsail filled and swung out, as the
breeze came up.
"Try and steer ashore, Amanda," exclaimed Anne.
"I dare not touch the rudder," said Amanda. "Whenever I have been in a
boat, my father has told me to sit still; and I do think it is the best
thing we can do now, Anne."
"Mayhap the wind will take us home again," said Anne, "and then your
father will come back and find Amos."
"More like 'twill take us straight out to sea," said Amanda.
"'Tis all my fault," said Anne; "I did prevail on you and Amos to come."
"We both liked well to come," answered Amanda stoutly. "Amos should have
known better, for he is older. But he likes a risk over well, and now he
can play shipwrecked to his heart's desire."
"My eyes are heavy with sleep," said Anne. "Let us say the small prayer
that Elder Haven taught us and sleep a little. 'Tis dark and foggy; we can
see nothing."
Amanda reached out her sunburned little hand and clasped Anne's, and they
repeated aloud the prayer, asking for help and protection, which Elder
Haven had taught them; then, curling themselves up in the bottom of the
boat, they went fast asleep.
But the "Peggy" did not sail far. The wind died away, and the boat drifted
with the tide. When the little girls awoke it was bright sunshine, and a
big ship was coming slowly down upon them.
"'Tis a Britisher!" Amanda exclaimed; "like as not she's bound for England
and will carry us straight off," and Amanda began crying bitterly.
Before Anne could answer there came a hail from the ship, and Anne and
Amanda called back, "Sloop 'Peggy'! Sloop 'Peggy'!" as loudly as they
could, as they had heard Province Town captains do in answer to hails from
harbor boats.
It was not long before the big vessel was near enough for the sailors to
distinguish that there were only two little girls on board the drifting
sloop, and a man was ready with a stout boat-hook, which he grappled about
the "Peggy's" mast, and a big man with reddish hair and blue eyes slid
down a rope and swung himself on board the sloop.
"Zounds!" exclaimed the sailor, "if 'Tis not the little Province Town maid
again! And adrift like this. I'll have to take you to England and let
Betsey and Harriet take care of you!"
Before he had finished both Anne and Amanda had begun to cry. They were
sure now that they should never see home again, and William Trull had some
trouble in convincing them that he did not mean to take them to England.
But the captain had small patience with the delay, and called out that
'twas best to sink the sloop rather than lose a fair wind out of harbor.
"I cannot be leaving two helpless maids adrift," William Trull called
back. "They are from the Province Town settlement."
"Take them back to it, if you like, and find your way across the Atlantic
as best you may," retorted the English captain angrily. "We can't stand by
for such folly."
Poor William Trull looked at the little girls in dismay. To be left
stranded on American territory was the last thing he desired.
"Can't you tow our boat down to Province Town?" pleaded Anne. "We won't
hurt you."
"Ha! ha!" laughed the captain, and even William Trull joined in the
laughter of the crew, while Anne and Amanda wondered why the sailors
laughed. "Well," and the captain's voice was more friendly as he leaned
over his ship's railing and gazed down at the little girls, "if you won't
run us down we'll take you along that far. You can stay on the sloop,
Trull, till we get near the tip of the cape. 'Tis plain American children
are not easily frighted."
The sloop was now taken in tow, and although the little girls pleaded that
a boat be sent to find Amos, William Trull shook his head.
"'twill not do," he declared, "to ask it of the captain; and if the boy be
a smart boy he'll make his way home, never fear."
It was some comfort to Amanda to declare that Amos was the smartest boy in
the settlement; that he could make fire as Indians did, and that he knew
many ways of snaring birds and fish.
"Never fear for a boy like that," said the sailor.
Anne was eager to ask him if he knew anything of her father, and William
Trull owned that he did.
"'twas your father who some way got word to Newburyport and Portsmouth men
to be ready to fight," he said. "'twas cleverly done, they tell me, but no
one has found out how."
"I know," said Anne, "because I helped." Then remembering Captain
Stoddard's caution, she put her hand over her mouth. "I must not tell,"
she said.
The sailor looked at her in astonishment. "Even the children are
'rebels,'" he declared, "and helping when chance comes. 'Tis a great
country. I'll not question you, child, but I'll tell my little girls about
you, and that you helped to send the English home. Your own father will
soon be telling you how the Americans drove the English; but you must keep
a kind thought for me."
"Oh, I do wish you would stay and be an American, Mr. William Trull, and
bring your little girls to live in Province Town," said Anne.
"Who knows?" said the sailor. "It may be I'll be coming back with my
family. I like this country well. Your father will be coming to Province
Town soon, never fear," he added, "for now Boston port is open to all, and
the fishermen are going in and out as they please."
Amanda had not been much interested in what the sailor had to say. She was
thinking that Amos must be very hungry; and when William Trull climbed
aboard the big vessel and the sloop dropped behind near the Province Town
shore, she was greatly rejoiced.
It was not long that the "Peggy" was alone. Men on shore had been watching
and were quick to recognize the sloop, and a boat was sent out. Amanda
recognized that her father was in it, as well as Captain Enos and Jimmie
Starkweather, and called out in delight. There was an anxious crowd on the
beach, and Mrs. Stoddard and Amanda's mother ran eagerly forward to greet
the little girls, and to ask what had become of Amos.
It was soon evident that Jimmie Starkweather and the other boys were
inclined to be envious of Amos's good fortune; and when Mr. Cary made his
own boat ready to sail for Barnstable to bring Amos home Jimmie was very
proud to be selected to accompany him.
"How shall we ever feel safe about thee, child?" said Mrs. Stoddard, as
she and Anne walked toward home. "Are you always to be seeking your father
without telling us? If you had but waited you would have saved us all this
worry, and Amos would now be safe at home."
"But I have news, Aunt Martha," pleaded Anne. "Mr. William Trull told me
my father might soon be with us. I will not leave you again, unless,
indeed, you no longer want me."
"Of course we want you, Anne. But I have better news than the English
sailor gave you. Look! Here comes some one whom you will be glad to see,"
but before she had finished speaking Anne had sprung forward with an
exclamation of delight, for her father was coming down the path to the
shore.
"I came down in one of Mr. Freeman's fishing-boats," he explained, as,
hand in hand, he and Anne walked back to join Mrs. Stoddard. Anne danced
along happily, and Mrs. Stoddard smiled as she looked at the little girl.
"And now I hope for peace," declared the good woman. "Anne will not let
you go again, John Nelson. You will have to be content to stay in Province
Town."
The next day Elder Haven came to see John Nelson to hear more about the
great triumphs of the Americans; and when Anne's father told him of
Captain Stoddard's trip to Newburyport, with Anne carrying the important
message for the Newburyport patriots, the good clergyman held up his hands
in wonder. "She is a brave little maid," he said. "It should be put on
record that a maid of Province Town helped the Americans to win their just
cause against King George. Indeed it should."
"She is a brave child," agreed Captain Enos. "I was sure of it when I
heard her defend her father at the spring," and the good captain chuckled
at the remembrance of Anne's battle with the Cary children, who were now
her staunchest friends.
"Amos is safe home, and proud enough; he is lording it well over his
mates," said Elder Haven. "You must not run away again, Anne," he added
more gravely, resting a gentle hand on the dark head.
"No, oh, no!" replied Anne, "not unless my father and Aunt Martha and
Uncle Enos go with me."