A GHOST STORY.
The Ken, it will be remembered, made for Ellen's Isle, when pursued by
the Pixie Rain. Lieutenant Swift never checked her speed until he had
run his ship under the shelter of the northern shore. Thence he rejoined
the fleet, after the Ram had gone down, and sailed on with Rodney up the
channel.
Coxswain Help steered for the island. The Stygians lay between him and
his own fleet, and should he make for Orchard shore he would risk
capture. Ellen's Isle was nearest; his boat was overloaded; the Ken
seemed to be already there awaiting them under the northern bank.
"Give way heartily, lads," he said, "we shall soon be on board the Ken."
The sailors pulled with a will, and although loaded down almost to the
gunwale, the boat made fair speed. The sinking of the Ram, which they
saw quite plainly, put fresh vigor into their arms. They could hardly
hold in their cheers; but Help ordered silence, as he had no wish to
call the Pixies' attention to them. The island was reached, but a sore
disappointment awaited them, for the Ken had gone on, and the Nattie
ships were far up the channel. Clearview climbed atop of a bush and
looked across the island to the south channel.
"There is the Pixie squadron crowding on all sail toward the inlet," he
said. "The Stygians are not yet in sight of our fleet, but it cannot be
long before they meet. Look yonder to the north! The other half of the
Pixie fleet has sailed out of the harbor, and is running up the
channel." Now the officers consulted as to what should be done.
"My duty is on the water," said Help, "I yield the chief command to our
superior officer, Adjutant Blythe. Captain Clearview will take command
of the boat. I shall lend a hand wherever I can."
"Very good," said Blythe; "but let us settle what is to be done first.
We can fix the matter of rank afterward."
"Well said, Adjutant," remarked True. "In our condition the readiest
helper has the highest rank. Let him lead us, who knows how to get us
out of trouble. Can't we cross the south channel? That's our own side,
you know."
"Not in one trip of our boat," said Clearview. "It was shipping water
freely before we landed. The distance to the south shore is much greater
than that which we have come. We might divide and make two trips, but
that doubles the risk, and gives less chance to the party left behind
should the Pixies land here. Suppose we wait until the fleets meet, and
act as may then seem best. See! even while we speak, one of the Pixie
ships is landing at the head of the island."
"Can you make her out, Captain?" asked Help.
"Yes, it's the Doubt, Master Shallow's craft. I would know the cut of
her jib among a thousand."
"What are they doing?" asked Blythe. "Are they sending boats ashore?"
"Yes, they have anchored off the Big Rocks; and one, two, three boats
are pulling into the cove above."
"Three, did you say?" returned Blythe. "Then let us attack them, and we
shall have enough boats wherewith to leave the island. I feel that I
could almost clean out a boat load myself."
[Illustration: FIG. 102.--"Abandoned Snares."]
"No, no, Adjutant!" answered True; "nobody doubts either your ability or
appetite for fighting Pixies. But we can't afford to take such a risk.
My advice is that we run our boat under these clumps of iris, and
bivouac for a while beneath the thick foliage that crowns yonder bank.
We shall be out of sight, shall have time to rest the men, and can then
get off safely. We have everything to gain by waiting."
True's advice was taken. The boat was hidden, a snug bivouac was made
near a clump of hazel bushes upon the high land beyond the shore, and
the crew threw themselves upon the grass to rest. Scouts were sent out
to beat around the neighboring foliage in search of lurking Pixies.
There were many signs that they had lately been upon the spot, such as
abandoned snares and vacant lodges, and deserted nurseries woven into
balls from the seeded and feathery tops of grasses. Apparently, all who
could march or sail or move through the air had gone off to join the
Pixie forces on land or water. Only a colony of youngling Orbweavers
remained snugly tented around a Jack-in-the-Pulpit. Most of them were
balled in a round mass under one of the leaves, packed together, with
legs and arms intertwined, and sound asleep.
[Illustration: FIG. 103.--"Vacant Lodges."]
One of the Scouts was keen to mount the plants, cut the tent cords and
disperse the brood of younglings. But Blythe forbade, "for," said he,
"they'll keep under cover while we are on the island, and it's always
wise to let well enough alone. They can do us no harm, so we'll not harm
them."
Now, Captain Clearview and Sergeant True climbed into a tree to note how
the two fleets came on. With a heavy heart they saw their squadron,
after a brief struggle, sail away toward the inlet. The Doubt rejoined
her companions, but one of her boats remained upon the island. What
could that portend?
[Illustration: FIG. 104.--"Deserted Nurseries Woven into Balls."]
Clearview and True told what they had seen, and urged all to guard
against surprise. Their enemies were on the island. How many there were,
or for what purpose they stayed, or where they might be, none knew. They
were probably still in the eastern end, and would not at once annoy the
Brownies, whose presence they could not suspect. Sentinels were posted
toward the land side, and one lookout upon the shore.
So the morning passed, and the afternoon had nearly worn away. The
fleets had not changed their positions. The Stygians still guarded the
inlet, but the heavy davids mounted at the mouth thereof held them in
check. Two or three Pixie vessels were slowly sailing down the north
channel coasting along the island. There had been no sign of the
Doubt's mysterious boat's crew. All was quiet. No chance yet to escape.
A squad under Help's command was sent out to forage. They had not been
gone long when the little camp was aroused by an alarm from one of the
sentinels. The Brownies sprang to arms, thinking that the Doubt's boat
crew had attacked them. There was a sound as of feet trampling among
ferns and grasses. Some one was approaching rapidly,--several persons
evidently; and they were charging at full run upon the picket line.
"Stand!" cried the guard. "Who goes there?"
There was no reply. Then one of the sailors of Help's squad, and a
second, and a third leaped from the underbrush, sprang by the sentinel
regardless of his challenge, and ran into the midst of the camp. They
were breathless, pale, trembling, terrified.
"Well," cried Blythe, "this is something new, truly! Full sized
Brownies, and Natties at that, running like a frightened rabbit from a
Pixie! Why, comrades, what has possessed you? Speak, can't you?" They
could not speak. The poor fellows were so overcome that they had to sit
down. Water was given them, and they revived.
"Come, now," said True firmly, "this has gone far enough. What is the
cause of this?"
One of the three could just utter the single word--"Pipe!" The very name
set the sailors shivering again with terror.
"This is most unaccountable!" exclaimed Blythe. "What do you mean,
fellow? What about Pipe? Do you mean our poor boatswain who was lost
this morning?"
"Yes--yes!" gasped the sailor. "We--have--seen--him! Oh, oh!" He uttered
a cry as he spoke, jumped to his feet, threw up his arms, pointed
toward the picket line and fell flat upon the grass.
All eyes turned in the direction of the poor fellow's hand. There stood
Pipe the Boatswain! A chorus of mingled groans, shrieks and cries arose
from the company. The sailors scattered into the ferns and bushes. The
officers stood their ground, but there was not one among them who would
not have run had he dared.
The figure slowly advanced. The eyes were sunken, the face pale, the
hair hung damp and matted around the face and brow. The clothes were
ragged and clung closely to the body. The eyes had, or seemed to have,
an unnatural brightness. They were fixed steadily upon the officers.
Step by step, nearer and nearer the figure came. But it spoke no word.
There could be no mistake about it. It was Pipe the drowned boatswain!
Now Sergeant True, like most sensible persons, knew that if there were
such things as ghosts they must be harmless creatures. He had often said
that; and declared that he would like to meet a ghost. But if the truth
were known, he would rather have been excused just then. However, he
spoke at last.
"Speak! whatever you be! Spirit, ghost, or living flesh,--tell us what
you are, and why you are come here!"
The figure stopped. A strange, familiar light played upon the pale face,
and glimmered around the corner of the eyes. Then into the death-like
silence the image spoke with a husky voice:
"Well, shipmates, this is a rather tough greeting on one's return from a
long voyage! What's i' the wind, that you all run from your old comrade,
and stand staring at me as though I were a ghost? Hey, my boy, don't
you know Sophie's daddy?"
[Illustration: FIG. 105.--"A Colony of Youngling Orbweavers as Snugly
Tented Under a Jack-in-the-Pulpit."]
"Pipe, Pipe! it is Pipe himself!" exclaimed True, and he rushed forward
and took the dear old sailor in his arms.
"There, there," said the boatswain, "that'll do for the present. Cast
off grapnels, please, and save your hugging for some one who likes it
better. Hello, you lubbers!"--addressing the sailors,--"get up, here!
I'm ashamed of the cloth, I am. Yes, it's Pipe--who else? Want proof of
it, do you?" The sailors were sitting upon the ground staring, dumb and
incredulous, upon their old officer. "Well, here goes then. You know the
sound of pipe to quarters, I'll be bound." So saying he put his whistle
to his lips, and sounded the old familiar note.
It was enough. The frightened foragers rose and shook hands with Pipe.
The scattered runaways came back. An eager crowd surrounded the
boatswain to hear him explain this marvelous resurrection from the deep.
"Well, it's easily enough explained. Come to think of it now, I don't
wonder that you took me for a ghost. In sooth, it is not often that a
Brownie stays under water for a whole day, and comes up again, unless,
may be, as a ghost."
"What! Under water a whole day?" cried Help. "You don't mean that
seriously, do you?"
"Aye, aye, shipmate, that I do. It has not been half an hour since I
left the depths of the lake there. I went down with the rest under the
keel of that infernal old pot that the Pixies set afloat. I supposed my
time had come at last. But no one seems to be willing to die even when
his time has come; so you see, I struck out pretty lively, so as to get
clear of the wreck and the drowning crews as I came up, and then allowed
myself to rise. First thing I knew I was diving straight through the
door of a water pixie's nest! You know there are some of those creatures
who make a kind of hollow globe or diving bell under the water."
"Yes," said True eagerly, "the Argyroneta pixies."
"Aye, those are the fellows. Well, they stay and balance their nest with
cables, which they fasten to stems of water plants; then they mount to
the surface, catch a bubble of air in the little hairs of their legs and
hands, sink with it and shoot it up into the nest. When it is filled
they have a water-tight house filled with air, down in the very midst of
the lake. It is a cunning thing even if it is made by a Pixie.
[Illustration: FIG. 106.--Pipe's Escape from the Water Pixie's Den.]
"Well there I was, snug and comfortable enough. The housekeeper didn't
happen to be at home, and I had full possession of the premises. I
couldn't make up my mind what to do. Of course, I knew that I couldn't
stay there always; but I feared to crawl out and mount to the surface.
Either way my chance seemed pretty slim for life. I concluded to wait a
while anyhow, and stretched myself upon a sort of web hammock that hung
from the sides. I looked every moment for the landlady to report, and
loosened my knife to welcome her home. However, she didn't come, and
after a long waiting I fell asleep. How long I slept I don't know. I was
aroused by a slight swaying of the diving bell nest. The proprietor was
coming in, sure as the world! She was already half way through the
port-hole. I clutched my knife and got ready to cut away. But a thought
struck me. Think's I, can't I lay hold of the old lady, and get her to
tow me out of this, and may be ashore? I put my knife between my teeth
and waited quietly until Mrs. Argyroneta had got fairly into her cabin.
Then I leaped from my hammock, grabbed her by a hind leg, and yelled at
the top of my lungs. Whew! you ought to have seen that Pixie get. She
turned and made through the port, mounted to the surface, and flew
across it like the flying Dutchman. I found it a little hard to hold on
to her leg. But the creature had cast out of her spinnerets a good stout
cable as she turned to leave her nest, which I seized with both
hands.[AV]
[Illustration: THE BOY'S ILLUSTRATION.
FIG. 107.--Pipe and the Pixie.]
"I should hate to say how many knots an hour we rated. The Pixie went so
fast that my head was kept above water by the swiftness of the motion.
She made straight for the island, and upon my word, I believe she would
have towed me clear ashore if it hadn't been for an accident. In
doubling the edge of a cluster of water lilies my tug struck a snag and
capsized. The rope slackened and I had to swim for it. Mrs. Argyroneta
dived. Not relishing a second journey to the bottom of the lake, I cut
the cable with my knife and clambered on top of a lily leaf. After some
trouble I managed to cut the leaf loose, and as the wind and current set
in toward the island, I drifted ashore just below here. I had scarcely
landed when I met these hearties here, who broke off into the woods at a
livelier rate than even my Pixie tug had made. That is the whole of my
yarn. And now if you please, give me something to eat for I'm mortal
hungry."
"What became of your Pixie?" asked Blythe.
"Never saw her after she dived," returned Pipe. "I reckon she's going
yet, for a worse scared creature, barring these three Jacks of ours, of
course, I never saw. But, come comrades, here I have been spinning my
yarn about my own miserable carcass, and all the time have heard nothing
of the fleet. To tell the truth, I've been afraid to ask. But let me
know the worst, all of it, while the cooks are getting supper ready."
The story was soon told. The good sailor was glad to find affairs had
gone no worse. His joy over the ignoble end of the Pixie monitor was
particularly keen.
"Humph!" he said, "just what I thought. A lubberly old pot! And any
seaman that would sail in such an affair deserves no better fate than to
be sent to the bottom by a dragoon's cutlass."
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote AV: Appendix, Note A.]