AN IMPORTANT MISSION
Temple Camp was situated on a gentle slope close to the east shore of
the lake. Save for this small area of habitable land the lake was
entirely surrounded by mountains. And it was the inverted forms of these
mountains reflected in the water which gave it the somber hue whence the
lake derived its name. On sunless days and in the twilight, the water
seemed as black as night.
Directly across the water from the camp, the most forbidding of those
surrounding heights reared its deeply wooded summit three thousand feet
above the sea level. A wilderness of tangled underbrush, like barbed
wire entanglements, baffled the hardiest adventurer. No scout had
penetrated those dismal fastnesses which the legend of camp reputed to
be haunted.
Beside the rocky base of this mountain was a tiny cove, a dim, romantic
little place, where the water was as still as in a pool. Its two sides
were the lower reaches of the great mountain and its neighbor, and all
that prevented the cove from being an outlet was a little hubble of land
which separated this secluded nook from a narrow valley, or gully,
beyond.
Sometimes, indeed, after a rainy spell the water in the cove overflowed
this little hubble of land enough to trickle through into the gully, and
then you could pick fish up with your hands where they flopped about
marooned in the channel below. Probably this gully was an old dried-up
stream bed.
About a mile from the lake it became wider and was intersected by a
road. Here it was that the bridge spanned the hollow. And here it was,
right in the hollow near the bridge, that Ebon Berry had his rural
garage. Along this road the old bus lumbered daily, bringing new
arrivals to camp and touching at villages beyond.
If, indeed, the swollen lake had washed away the inner shore of the
cove, the sequel would be serious if not tragic at that quiet road
crossing. The question was, had this happened, and if so, had the bus
reached the fatal spot? All that the boys knew was that the bus was long
overdue and that Berry's "did not answer." And that the fury of the
storm was rising with every minute.
Tom Slade spoke calmly as was his wont. No storm could arouse him out of
his stolid, thoughtful habit.
"A couple of scoutmasters have started along the road," he said, "to see
what they can find out. How about you, Hervey? Are you game to skirt the
lake? How about you, Roy? There may be danger over there."
"Believe me, I hope it'll wait till we get there," said Hervey Willetts.
"I'll go!" shouted Pee-wee.
"You'll go--in and get supper," said Tom. "I want just three fellows;
I'm not going to overload a boat in this kind of weather. I'll take Roy
and Hervey and Westy, if you fellows are game to go. You go in and get a
lantern, Pee-wee."
"And don't forget to leave some pie for those two troops that are coming
on the bus," added Roy.
Pee-wee did better than bring a lantern; he brought also three oilskin
jackets and hats which the younger boys donned. He must also have
advertised the adventurous expedition during his errand indoors, for a
couple of dozen envious scouts followed him out and watched the little
party depart.
The four made their way against a blown rain which all but blinded them
and streamed from their hats and rendered their storm jackets quite
useless. Tom wore khaki trousers and a pongee shirt which clung to him
like wet tissue paper. If one cannot be thoroughly dry the next best
thing is to be thoroughly wet.
They chose the widest and heaviest of the boats, a stout old tub with
two pairs of oarlocks. Each of the four manned an oar and pulled with
both hands. It was almost impossible to get started against the wind,
and when at last their steady, even pulling overcame the deterring power
of the gale they were able to move at but a snail's pace. They followed
the shoreline, keeping as close in as they could, preferring the
circuitous route to the more perilous row across the lake.
As their roundabout voyage brought them to the opposite shore, their
progress became easier, for the mountain rising sheer above them
protected them from the wind.
"Let her drift a minute," said Tom, panting; "lift your oars."
It was the first word that any of them had spoken, so intense had been
their exertions.
"She's going straight ahead," said Westy.
"What's that?" said Roy suddenly. "Look out!"
He spoke just in time to enable them to get out of the path of a
floating tree which was drifting rapidly in the same direction as the
boat. Its great mass of muddy roots brushed against them.
"It's just as I thought," Tom said; "the water must be pouring out
through the cove. We're caught in it. Let's try to get a little off
shore; we'll have one of those trees come tumbling down on our heads the
first thing we know."
"Not so easy," said Hervey, as they tried to backwater and at the same
time get out from under the mountain.
"Put her in reverse," said Roy, who never failed to get the funny squint
on a situation.
But there was no use, the rushing water had them in its grip and they
were borne along pell-mell, with trees and broken limbs which had fallen
down the mountainside.
They were directly opposite the camp now, and cheerful lights could be
seen in the pavilion where the whole camp community was congregated,
safe from the storm. The noises which had seemed weird enough at camp
were appalling now, as out of that havoc far above them, great bowlders
came tumbling down into the lake with loud splashes.
Tom realized, all too late, the cause of the dreadful peril they were
in. Out on the body of the lake and toward the camp shore the wind was
blowing a gale from the mountains and, as it were, forcing the water
back. But directly under the mountain there was no wind, and their
position was as that of a person who is _under_ the curve of a
waterfall. And here, because there was no wind to counteract it, the
water was rushing toward what was left of the cove. It was like a rapid
river flowing close to the shore and bearing upon its hurrying water the
debris which had crashed down from that lonesome, storm-torn height.
The boat was caught in this rushing water and the danger was increased
by its closeness to the shore where every missile of rock or tree, cast
by that frowning monster, might at any minute dash the craft to
splinters.
The little flickering lights which shone through the spray and fine
blown rain across that black water seemed very cheerful and inviting
now.