THE SQUALL
"Sturgeon Island, did you say, Allan?" remarked Step Hen. "Sounds like
it might be a good fishing place. If we happened to land there, perhaps
Bumpus and Giraffe might manage to do some big stunts, pulling in
sturgeon. Can anybody tell me what sort of a fish that is, anyway? I
never saw one, or a fellow that caught one, either."
"Oh! they grow to big size, and are caught in the Great Lakes in this
country. They take sturgeon eggs I believe to make this high-priced
stuff they use in the tony clubs and call caviar, or something like
that," observed Bumpus, who really did know considerable about fish and
fishing, though of course he did not claim to be a fly fisherman,
capable of casting seventy feet or more.
But the subject did not interest any of them just then. The way that
bank of ominous clouds kept advancing higher and higher soon kept their
attention riveted in that quarter.
"About how far away from our harbor are we, Thad?" asked Step Hen.
"Something like fifteen miles, I should say," came the reply.
Giraffe looked at the balky engine, and shook his head.
"Then we'd better make up our minds right here and now that we'll never
get to that place this day," he said, positively; and there was no one
bold enough to accept of the plain challenge his tones conveyed.
"That means our only hope lies in Sturgeon Island, don't it?" Bumpus
asked.
"Looks that way," Thad told him.
"But that don't seem so far on the map; you, just put your finger on the
same, Thad; and if she's close enough to do that, hadn't we ought to see
that island, ahead somewhere?"
"Suppose you take the glasses and look," suggested the pilot, who was
busy with the engine that had stopped short again, and needed coaxing to
take up its burden once more, "It's rather hazy, you'll notice, so that
you couldn't be sure of anything more than three miles away, I reckon;
but tell us what lies de ahead, will you, Bumpus?"
A minute later, and the fat scout cried out in considerable excitement:
"I can see land ahead, sure I can, fellows!"
"That must be the island, then," rejoined Thad, busily engaged.
"Our only hope, so we had ought to call it our island," Davy went on to
say, as he deliberately took the glasses from Bumpus, and glued the
smaller end of the same to his own eyes.
Then in turn everybody but Thad had to have a chance to look; and in the
end it was the consensus of opinion that Bumpus had spoken only the
truth when he said there were positive evidences of some sort of land
ahead.
"Oh! if you could only get that old junk-shop engine to working for half
an hour, Thad, we'd have plenty of time to circle around to the leeward
side of that island, and then we could get ashore, no matter what
happened to the Belle," Bumpus faltered, as he watched the skipper still
working as rapidly as he could.
All at once the machinery started up again, when Thad gave the crank a
whirl.
"Bully for you, Thad!" cried Davy, slapping the other heartily on the
back; and then turning to look at the black clouds following after them,
as though he would give fair warning that they meant to make a stiff
fight for the opportunity of finding safety.
"Go slow!" warned the other; "don't be too sure, because she's limping
already, and I'd hate to risk my reputation in saying that we could
depend on that thing five minutes at a stretch," and from the way Thad
said this it was evident that he had by now almost lost all faith in the
motor.
"Looks like it might be a race between the storm, and our getting behind
Sturgeon Island," said Giraffe, as he turned alternately from stem to
stern of the boat, evidently trying to figure out what sort of chance
they might have for winning out in the end.
But they knew that it all depended on the engine; if it worked as well
as it was doing right now they could surely pass over the few miles that
separated them from the island; and once in its lee it would not be so
difficult to gain the shore. Neither the wild wind, nor the gathering
waves could disturb them, so long as the storm continued to come out of
the south-west, for they were now cruising along the northern shore of
the great lake, where the Dominion of Canada held sway, and not Uncle
Sam.
So they watched it anxiously, and every time it missed an explosion
Bumpus would utter a grunt or a groan; only to catch new inspiration and
hope when he found that it was a false alarm, and that they were still
going right along.
Thad was doing everything he knew how to encourage the engine to keep up
the good work; but he had already made up his mind to be surprised at
nothing. There was a possibility that it might keep working fairly well
as long as they wanted, in order to find safety in the shelter of the
island; and then again it was apt to let down at any minute.
Thad, however, was not the one to show the white feather. He knew that
there were several of his chums who might not be constituted just the
same as he and Allan, and Giraffe--Bumpus and Davy and Step Hen; and his
seeming cheerfulness was partly assumed in order to buoy their drooping
spirits up; as scout-master Thad felt that he had many duties to
perform, and one of these was to instill a feeling of confidence in the
breasts of his comrades.
"I can see a white streak on the water away back there!" announced
Giraffe, presently.
"That's where you've got the advantage of the rest of us, with your long
neck, and that way of stretching the same," complained Step Hen; and
determined to meet the other on his own grounds he clambered to the top
of the cabin, where he could use the glasses he had taken from the hand
of Giraffe.
"It's the first blow of the squall, as sure as anything," he immediately
reported; which news made Bumpus turn pale; for he had not forgotten
what he experienced on that other occasion.
"Coming racing after us, like hot cakes!" added Giraffe. "Hadn't we
better get them life preservers out, and fastened on under our arms,
Thad? Then, if so be the old tub did take a notion to turn turtle, we'd
have some show for our money."
"Make him stop talking that way, Thad, won't you?" urged Bumpus; "he
just does it to make me have a bad feeling down here," and he rubbed his
projecting stomach mournfully as he spoke.
"No, I'm sorry to tell you he isn't saying anything too strong, Bumpus,"
the skipper of the Chippeway Belle assured him; and after that poor
Bumpus had nothing more to say; only he clutched the cork and canvas
life preserver which was handed out to him, and with trembling hands
proceeded to adjust the same under his arms; though it was a very snug
fit, even if Giraffe had given him the largest in the lot under the
seats.
"If anything happens, remember," said Thad, in all seriousness, as he
watched the rapid way in which that ominous white line on the water was
racing after them; "all of you try your best to land on the island.
We're getting closer all the while to the same, and there seems to be
some shore for us to crawl up, because, with the rocks I can see little
patches of gravelly beach. Keep your eyes fixed on that, and do
everything you can to get there in case of a wreck."
"Wreck!" muttered Bumpus, as though talking to himself, as he often did
when in trouble. "Didn't I dream I was on a ship that went to pieces in
storm; and first thing I knew I had to swim for it, and me knowing so
little about doing that. Oh! I hope nothing happens, and that we ran
swing around back of that bully old island soon!"
"So say we all of us, Bumpus," Giraffe echoed; and he did not mean to
draw the attention of the others to the shaky condition of the fat
scout, because, if the truth were told, every one of the six boys would
be found to be quivering with the dreadful suspense, while waiting for
that forerunner of the squall to strike them.
The engine still continued to keep them moving, although to the excited
imagination of some of the boys they seemed to be almost standing still.
"What do you think of it now, Thad?" asked Step Hen, with the manner of
one who hoped for good tidings, yet feared the worst.
"I don't just like the looks of that first rush of wind," replied the
pilot; "of course if we pull through that we may be able to hold out,
and gradually force a way around the island. I'm trying to head as near
as I dare, because if once we're forced past, there's nothing left for
us, you understand?"
Yes, they could grasp that point well enough, and Step Hen even besought
the one at the wheel to work in a little closer.
"Better take the chances of being thrown on the island than to be
carried past by a fluke of the wind!" he declared, and Thad believed so
much the same way that he did change their course slightly.
The boys had brought out what most they wanted to save in case of a
wreck. One carried his clothes bag, with the blanket fastened to the
same; another had the double-barreled shotgun; while Giraffe made sure
to see that his fishing tackle was safely tucked in with his belongings,
which he had made up into as small a compass as possible.
As for Bumpus, he had gathered everything he owned, and looked as though
he might be a walking peddler trying to dispose of his wares to the
country people. On the other hand there was Step Hen who did not appear
to care an atom about his clothes and his blanket; but he had managed to
wrap something around the owl, and was all the while gripping the bird
tightly; though Bumpus said he was silly to risk his own life, when all
he had to do was to cut the cord he had put around the cloth, unfasten
the chain that gripped the bird's leg, and give him a toss into the air,
when Jim would look out for himself.
"Wish I could fly away as easy as he can," Bumpus wound up with; but in
spite of all these suggestions the obstinate Step Hen still persisted in
holding on to his prisoner, as though he meant to accept every chance
rather than let him go.
"Hold fast, everybody, for here she comes!" called Allan, presently.
The puttering of the escape connection with the engine could no longer
be heard, because of the roar made by the rushing wind, and the splash
of the curling water, as the squall leaped forward and rapidly overtook
them.
"Oh; my stars!" Bumpus was heard to call out, as he clung to something
with all his might and main; for the little cruiser seemed to be lifted
high in the air, and carried forward on the top of a giant billow, only
to sink down in the trough of the sea with a heavy motion; but still
keeping head on.
But in that moment of time Thad Brewster knew that the fate of the boat
was effectually sealed; because the engine had given its last throb and
they were now a helpless, drifting object in the midst of those angry
waters!