ESCAPE OF THE FIRST MATE AND CREW
The situation certainly looked hopeless for our lads, and the men on the
sloop were already shouting derisively at them. Alaric caught another
mental glimpse of the government prison, and even Bonny's stout heart
experienced an instant of despair. He was still standing and holding the
oar that he had used in sculling. Moved by a sudden impulse, and just as
the extended boat-hook was dropping over the stern of the dinghy, he
struck it a smart blow with his oar, and had the good fortune to send it
whirling from the sailor's grasp. With a second quick motion the lad set
his oar against the stem of the yawl, that was within four feet of him,
and gave a vigorous shove. The slight headway of the heavy craft was
checked, and the lighter dinghy forged ahead.
"Oh, you will, will you, you young rascal?" cried the sailor, angrily,
as he leaped back to his thwart, and bent to his oar with furious
energy. His companion followed his example, and under the impetus of
their powerful strokes the yawl sprang forward. At the same time Bonny,
facing backward, and working his oar with both hands, was sculling so
sturdily that the dinghy rocked from side to side until it seemed to
Alaric that she must certainly capsize. She was making such splendid
headway, though, that the much heavier yawl could not gain an inch. Its
crew, unable to see the fugitive dinghy without turning their heads, and
having no one to steer for them, were placed at a disadvantage that
Bonny was quick to detect.
Watching his opportunity, he caused his craft to swerve sharply to one
side, and the yawl, holding her original course for some seconds before
his manoeuvre was discovered, his lead was thus materially increased.
Although not a very swift race, this novel chase proved as close and
exciting a contest as had ever been seen on the Sound. The men on the
sloop yelled with delight; and Alaric, filled with renewed hopes of
escape on seeing that the distance between dinghy and yawl was not
diminished, thrilled with excitement and shouted encouraging words to
his comrade.
In spite of all this, Bonny's strength and powers of endurance were so
much less than those of the sturdy fellows in the yawl that he realized
the impossibility of maintaining his position much longer. With strained
muscles, and his breath coming in panting gasps, he glanced wildly about
like a hunted animal in search of some avenue of escape. There was none
other than that he was taking; and with a sinking heart he knew that,
unless some miracle were interposed in their behalf, he and his
companion must speedily be captured.
But the miracle was interposed, and in the simplest possible manner; for
just as Bonny was ready to drop his oar from exhaustion a shrill,
long-drawn whistle sounded from the now distant beach. Its effect on the
crew of the yawl was magical. They stopped rowing, looked at each other,
and consulted. Then they gazed at the retreating dinghy and hesitated.
They felt it to be their duty to continue the pursuit, but they also
knew the penalty for disobeying an order from a superior, and that
whistle was an unmistakable order for them to go back.
The cutter's third lieutenant had returned from his expedition into the
woods with three wretched Chinamen, whom, despite their eagerly produced
certificates, he had seen fit to make prisoners. He was amazed to find
the yawl gone from where he had left it, and the details of the chase in
which it was engaged being hidden from him by the intervening sloop, he
gave the whistle signal for its immediate return.
As the crew of the yawl hesitated between duty and obedience, the
peremptory whistle order was repeated louder and shriller than before.
This decided the wavering sailors, and, reluctantly turning their boat,
they began to pull towards shore, one of them shaking his fist at the
boys as they went.
As for the fugitives, they could hardly believe the evidence of their
senses. Was the chase indeed given over, and were they free to go where
they pleased? It seemed incredible. Just as they were on the point of
being captured, too, for Bonny now confided to Alaric that he couldn't
have held out at that pace one minute longer. As he said this the tired
lad sat down for a short rest.
Almost immediately he again sprang to his feet, and, thrusting his oar
overboard, began to scull with one hand. "It won't do for us to be
loafing here," he explained, "for I expect those fellows have been
called back so that the whole crowd can chase us in the sloop."
"Oh, I hope not," said Alaric; "I'm awfully tired of running away."
"So am I," laughed Bonny--"tired in more ways than one; but if fellows
bigger than we are will insist on chasing us, I don't see that there is
anything for us to do but run. There! thank goodness we've rounded the
point at last, and got out of sight of them for a while at any rate."
"Where are you going now, and what do you propose to do next?" asked
Alaric, who, fully realizing his own helplessness in this situation, was
willing to leave the whole scheme of escape to his more experienced
companion.
"That's what I'm wondering. Of course it won't do to stay out here very
long, for in less than fifteen minutes the sloop will be shoving her
nose around that point. Nor it wouldn't be any use to try and get to
Tacoma--at least, not yet a while--for that's where they'll be most
likely to hunt for us. So I think we'd better cross the channel, turn
our boat adrift, and make our way overland to Skookum John's camp. It
isn't very sweet-smelling, and they don't feed you any too well--that
is, not according to our ideas--but just because it is such a mean kind
of a place no one will ever think of looking for us there. Besides,
Skookum's a very decent sort of a chap, and he'll keep us posted on all
that happens in the bay. So if you don't mind roughing it a bit--"
"No, indeed," interrupted Alaric, eagerly. "I don't mind it at all. In
fact, that is just what I want to do most of anything, and I've always
wished I could live in a real Indian camp. The only Indians I ever saw
were in the Wild West Show, in Paris."
"Have you been to Paris?" asked Bonny, wonderingly.
"Yes, of course, I was there for--I mean yes, I've been there. But,
Bonny, what makes you think of turning this boat adrift? Wouldn't we
find her useful?"
"I suppose we might; but she isn't our boat, you know, and you wouldn't
keep a boat that didn't belong to you just because it might prove
useful, would you?"
"No, certainly not," replied Alaric, rather surprised to have his
companion take this view of the question. "I would try to hand her over
to the rightful owner."
"So would I," agreed Bonny, "if I knew who he was; but after what has
just happened I don't know, and so I am going to turn her adrift in the
hope that he will find her. Besides, it wouldn't be safe to leave her on
shore, because she would show anybody who happened to be looking for us
just where we had landed."
"That's a much better reason than the other," said Alaric.
During this conversation the dinghy had been urged steadily across the
channel, and was now run up to a bold bank, where the boys disembarked.
After removing Alaric's bag and the several cans of provisions so
thoughtfully furnished them by Captain Duff, Bonny gave the boat a push
out into the channel, down which the ebbing tide bore her, with many a
twist and turn, towards the more open waters of the Sound.
"To be left in this way in an unknown wilderness makes me feel as Cortez
must have done when he burned his ships," reflected Alaric, as he
watched the receding craft.
"I don't think I ever heard about that," said Bonny, simply. "Did he do
it for the insurance?"
"Not exactly," laughed Alaric; "and yet in a certain way he did, too.
I'll tell you all about it some time. Now, what are you going to do
next?"
"Climb that bluff, lie down under those trees while you eat something,
and watch for the sloop," answered Bonny, as though his programme had
all been arranged beforehand.
They did this, and Alaric was so hungry that he made away with a whole
box of sardines and a tin of deviled ham. He wondered a little if they
would not make him ill, but did not worry much, for he was rapidly
learning that while leading an out-of-door life one may eat with
impunity many things that would kill one under ordinary conditions. He
had just finished his ham, and was casting thoughtful glances towards a
bottle of olives, when Bonny exclaimed, "There she is!"
Sure enough, the sloop, with the cutter's yawl in tow, was slowly
beating out past the point on the opposite side of the channel. She
stood well over towards the western shore, and the tide so carried her
down that when she tacked she was close under the bluff on which the
boys, stretched at full length and peering through a fringe of tall
grasses, watched her. She came so near that Alaric grew nervous, and was
certain her crew were about to make a landing at that very spot. With a
vision of MacNeil's Island always before him, he wanted to run from so
dangerous a vicinity and hide in the forest depths; but Bonny assured
him that the sloop would go about, and in another moment she did so,
greatly to Alaric's relief.
They could see that Captain Duff was still confined below, and they even
heard one of the men sing out to the officer in command: "There it is
now, sir, about two miles down the channel. I can see it plain."
"Very good," answered the lieutenant; "keep your eye on it, and note if
they make a landing. If they don't, we'll have them inside of half an
hour."
"Yes, you will," said Bonny, with a grin.
As the sloop passed out of hearing the lads crept back from the edge of
the bluff, gathered up their scanty belongings, and started through the
forest towards the place where Bonny believed Skookum John's camp to be
located. Although it lay somewhere down the coast in the same direction
as that taken by the sloop, it never occurred to either of them that
her new commander might stop there to make inquiries concerning them.
Thus when, after an hour of hard travel, they came suddenly on the camp,
located beside a tumbling stream in a rocky hollow that opened directly
on the water, they were terrified at sight of the cutter's yawl lying in
the mouth of the creek, and the revenue-officer standing on shore
engaged in earnest conversation with Skookum John himself. As they
hastily drew back into the forest shadows they saw the former wave his
arm comprehensively towards the country lying back of the camp. Then he
shook hands with the Indian and stepped into his boat. Just as it was
about to shove off, a villanous cur, scenting the newcomers, darted
towards their hiding-place, barking furiously.