The "Eliza"--that was the name of the coastguard's boat on which our
heroes had embarked--was a middling-sized sea-going rowing boat, which,
if it was just big enough by a little judicious packing to hold the
seven voyagers, could certainly not have accommodated more.
While Gayford, with the dexterity of an experienced bargee, shoved the
boat along out of the creek, Bowler took upon himself the care of
trimming the "ship," and stowing away all the baggage.
"As soon as we get out," said he, "we'd better lie down on the floor, in
case the coastguards see us."
"Not much chance of that," replied Gayford. "They never get up till
eight, and by that time we shall be halfway across."
"Suppose they spot us and give chase?" said Wallas. "What a row we
shall get into!"
"They've not got a boat, I tell you, and I don't believe there's one
they can get either," said Bowler.
"But they're sure to be on the look-out for us when we get back to-
night."
"Let them. It'll be dark at six, and we can land in Rocket Bay, you
know, and dodge them that way."
Bowler was evidently so well up in the arrangements, and had made such a
careful study of all the pros and cons of the venture, that every one
felt satisfied, and even the somewhat doubtful Wallas desisted from
throwing more cold water on the expedition.
It was a raw morning with a little bit of a fog, and a cool breeze right
off the land. This last point, however, gave great satisfaction to the
leaders of the party. Once out in the open they would be able to hoist
sail, and without the exertion of rowing make a straight track for the
Long Stork--much indeed as would be the case when, with a southerly wind
at their backs, they would before long plough the ocean from Sinnamary
to New Swishford.
The fog also was decidedly in their favour, for it would help to screen
them from the observation of any wakeful and inquisitive coastguard. In
fact, the unusual combination of wind and fog seemed like a special sign
of good omen to their adventure.
"Hope it's not wough outside," said Braintree, as the boat, now nearly
out of the creek, began to dance a little at the prospect of meeting the
open sea.
"Can't be rough with the wind off the land, you duffer," said Crashford.
"Can't it, though?" said Wester, as a wave lifted the prow of the boat
and nearly sent it back on the rocks.
"I call that vewy wough," said Braintree, looking and feeling a little
uncomfortable.
"Oh, it's only the ground swell," said Gayford; "we shall soon get out
of that. Here, Bowler, old man, take an oar with Tubbs, and keep way on
while I stick up the sail. Look alive!"
With some difficulty the oars were got out, and Tubbs made to comprehend
what was expected of him. But comprehending was one thing with Tubbs,
and doing was another thing. Just as he settled down to his oar,
another wave lifted the boat and Tubbs with it, who clung wildly to the
seat with both hands, leaving his oar to its fate. Luckily, Crashford
was near enough to make a grab at it before it went, or the beginning of
the expedition might have been marked by a serious catastrophe.
The unhappy Tubbs having been shunted, Crashford took his place, and
with Bowler kept the boat's head steady till Gayford hauled up the sail,
and the "Eliza" began of her own accord to fly through the water.
At the sight of the majestic sail swelling with the wind, and still more
on perceiving a decided improvement in the pitching of the boat, the
spirits of the party rose again, and Braintree actually began to hum
"Wule Bwitannia."
The cliffs of Raveling loomed dimly out behind them, and ahead they
could just discern the faintest outline of the land of their adoption.
"Upon my word," said Bowler, "this is jolly. It's just like the real
New Swishford, isn't it, you fellows?"
"Warthah," said Braintree, "except my wifle to let fly at the seagulls
with."
"But," said Wallas, "if the wind's off the land this side, it will be
off the sea when we get over there, so I suppose it'll get rougher and
rougher the farther out we get?"
This ominous suggestion had the effect of immediately damping the
spirits of half the party, and Bowler and Gayford found it difficult to
restore confidence in the much-abused ocean. The ocean, however, went
some way to restore confidence in itself. For though it still continued
restless enough to keep Braintree and Tubbs in a state of suspended
enjoyment in the bows, it showed no signs of getting worse as it went
on.
Bowler was jubilant. With his hand on the rudder and his eye on the
compass, he kept the boat's course like a line, and fancied himself
heading due north from Sinnamary. Gayford, with the sheet in his hand,
and a careful watch on the sail, could easily delude himself into
fancying the coast-line of the Long Stork was the veritable shore of New
Swishford.
"Isn't it prime, old man," said he, "and won't it be primer still when
the real time comes? I never guessed it would be so easy. Not a
thing's gone wrong."
"No; and think of the lark of landing and collaring the island, too. I
say, who does the Long Stork belong to?"
"Don't know--the Long Storks, I guess. They're the only inhabitants I
ever heard of."
"Well, I'm sorry for them. But, I say, Gayford, it's just as well we
have got some grub on board, for there's not much sign of forests and
game, and all that sort of thing here."
Not much indeed! Long Stork Island was a barren rock about a mile long
and half a mile wide, with a few scraggy patches of grass on its
uninviting slope. No living creatures but the wild sea-birds patronised
it in the winter, when the waves lashed over the island and sent their
salt spray from one end to the other. Even they seemed to avoid it.
But beggars cannot be choosers, and as the Long Stork was the only
island of our heroes' acquaintance within reach, they had to take it as
it was and make the best of it.
A decided sea was running on the landward side of the island as they
approached it, and even such inexperienced navigators as Bowler and
Gayford could see that there would be some difficulty about effecting a
quiet landing.
"Better go round the other side," said Gayford; "it'll be quiet enough
there out of the wind."
So the boat's nose was put out to make a circuit of the Long Stork.
"Look out, I say!" said, or rather groaned Braintree from the bows.
"Don't make the boat woll. Why can't you wun her stwait in the way
you--?"
His further observations were cut short, and during the rest of the time
that the "Eliza" was rounding the stormy cape he and Tubbs and Crashford
were in a decidedly pensive mood. At last the circumnavigation was
accomplished, and in tranquil water the boat cruised along under the
sheltered shore of the island. The sail was lowered, oars were put out,
the invalids sat up, and Bowler, standing up in the bows, scanned the
coast for a likely landing-place.
He had not to search long. A little natural pier of rock ran out
invitingly, alongside which the boat was slowly and triumphantly
brought.
"Now, you fellows," said Crashford, "here goes for first on shore. Out
of the way, Tubby. Hurrah for New Swishford!" And he leapt on shore,
half capsizing the boat as he did so.
Bowler found his authority unequal to the task of controlling the
enthusiasm of his fellow-emigrants, and he had to let them land as they
pleased, while he and Gayford grimly held the boat alongside.
When all but Tubbs were ashore, their patience could hold out no longer.
They followed the general rush, Bowler crying out to Tubbs as he sprang
ashore--
"See and make her fast, Tubbs, and land the grub, will you? We'll be
back directly." And off he scampered with the rest, to join in the
ceremony of capturing the island.
Now Tubbs was not the best man who could have been chosen to execute so
important a trust as that laid upon him; and Bowler, had he been rather
less excited at the moment, would have thought twice before he left him
to perform it. In the first place, Tubbs could find no place to tie the
boat up to, and as long as he sat in the boat and held on to the rock it
was evident he could not land the grub. So he was in a dilemma. He did
his best; he relaxed his hold for a moment and made a frantic grab at
one of the brown-paper parcels. But it almost cost him his moorings,
for the boat, taking advantage of its liberty, began to slide away out
to sea, and it was all Tubbs could do to catch hold of the rock again in
time to stop it. This would not do, it was clear. He pulled the boat
along to its old position, and throwing the parcel ashore, meditated.
He must wait till one of the others came to help him. Poor Tubbs! It
was hard lines to see the rest of the party scrambling triumphantly up
the hill, and find himself left here like a sort of animated anchor.
Happy thought! How came he never to have thought of the anchor before?
There it was in the bottom of the boat. It would be the simplest thing
to jump ashore with it and fix it somewhere in the rocks where it would
hold. No sooner was the brilliant project conceived than it was
executed. Seizing the anchor in his hands, Tubbs stepped gaily ashore
and triumphantly wedged one tooth of it into a crevice of the rock,
where it would hold firm enough to keep a man-of-war in its place. He
watched with a pleasant smile the "Eliza" as she drifted slowly out on
the rope, enjoying the prospect of seeing her presently tug at the
anchor, and then give up the attempt to get free and resign herself to
her fate.
It was a longer coil of rope than he had imagined. The boat was twenty
yards away at least, and still paying out. By the way, where was the
rope? With a cry of horror Tubbs sprang to the anchor and began hauling
in. The rope came in gaily, but not the "Eliza." She danced merrily
cut to sea in a straight line for the North Pole, with the six brown-
paper parcels on board, leaving her poor custodian to console himself as
best he could with a loose end of rope, which had never been fastened to
its ring.
What was he to do? After taking a few minutes to collect his ideas, by
which time the boat was a hundred yards on its solitary voyage, it
occurred to him he had better inform the others of what had happened.
So he started in rather a low state of mind in pursuit of them. It was
a long time before he came upon them, perched in a group on the highest
point of the island, and singing "Rule Britannia" in a lusty chorus
which sent the scared seagulls flying to right and left.
"Hullo, Tubby, old man, here we are! Got the grub safe ashore? Not
been bagging any of the peaches, eh? You've been long enough."
Tubbs replied by pointing mysteriously to a little speck out at sea.
"What's the row? What is it?" asked Gayford.
"You wouldn't guess what that little thing is," said Tubbs.
"What is it? Can't you speak?"
"Well, if you must know, it's our boat. The anchor wasn't tied, you
know!"
"The boat! You great booby!" cried one and all, springing to their feet
and rushing in the direction of the pier, upsetting and trampling over
the unhappy Tubbs as they did so.
"What on earth shall we do?" gasped Gayford, as he ran by Bowler's side.
"We must swim for it," said Bowler. "It's our only chance."
"Can't do it. She's half a mile out."
"It's all up with us if we can't get her!" groaned Bowler.
They reached the landing-stage, and there, sure enough, danced the
"Eliza" half a mile out at sea.
"I'll try it," said Bowler, flinging off his coat.
"What, to swim? You'll do nothing of the sort," said Gayford, seizing
his friend by main force.
"I tell you it's our only chance," cried Bowler. "Let go, do you hear?"
"No, I won't, old man. We must make the best of it. It'll be more like
New Swishford than ever now."
This last argument had more effect with Bowler than any other, and he
slowly put on his coat.
"I vote we souse that idiot, Tubbs, till he's black in the face," said
Crashford viciously.
"What's the use of that?" asked Bowler. "The fact is, you fellows,"
said he, "we're regularly in for it now, and the sooner we make up our
minds what we shall do the better."
"Let's make a waft," said Braintree, mindful of his _Wobinson Cwusoe_.
"Where's your wood?" asked Wallas.
"Let's hoist a signal, anyhow," said Wester.
"No one to see it if you do," said Wallas.
"Let's have some grub," said Crashford.
This last suggestion met with general approval. They had had no
breakfast to speak of, and after their voyage and excitement hunger was
beginning to assert itself. The one brown-paper parcel rescued from the
"Eliza" was forthwith handed in and pronounced common property. It
happened to be the parcel bearing Tubbs's name, and contained, besides a
seventh part of the provisions, Tubbs's voluntary contributions to the
general store--namely, the crib to Sallust, and the guide to the
environs of Tunbridge Wells. These, it was proposed and seconded,
should be handed over to the owner as his share of the good things
contained in the parcel, but Bowler and Gayford interfered on his
behalf; and after having been reprimanded with a severity that took away
his appetite, he was allowed to partake of a portion of potted shrimp
and a potted peach, together with a small slice of cake. Bowler groaned
to see what a hole even this frugal repast made in the provisions, and
consulted Gayford in an undertone on the possibility of slaying a
seagull and the merits of raw poultry generally.
Rather dolefully the provisions were packed up and deposited in a ledge
in the rocks, while the party proceeded to wander about the island in
search of board and lodging. The charms of Long Stork Island had fallen
off greatly in the short interval, and the sea-fog, which was beginning
to wrap it round and hide the mainland from view, seemed like a wet
blanket both on the spirits and persons of the adventurers.
After much dreary search a hollow was found on the hill-side, which by
fastening together three or four ulsters might be roofed over
sufficiently well to keep out the rain or cold if required. As to food,
the island provided absolutely nothing except the chance of raw poultry
already mentioned and a few shell-fish on the rocks.
The day wore on, and the fog turned to drizzle and the drizzle to rain.
They held out against it as long as they could, but had to take shelter
at last, and herd together in their extemporised cabin.
Here a painful discussion ensued, "I hope you're satisfied now!" growled
Wallas. "This is mess enough to please even you, Bowler."
"What do you mean?" retorted Gayford; "a lot you've done for the public
good. There are plenty of seagulls about without you to croak, too."
"I wish my umbwellah hadn't gone out to sea," observed Braintree,
shivering.
"By the way," said Crashford, "didn't I see it lying on the rocks. I'll
just run and see," and off he started.
"When shall we ever get away?" asked Wester. "We may get starved here."
"They're sure to see us or find us out in a day or two," said Bowler.
"A day or two!" exclaimed Wallas; "do you really mean we've got to stay
here without food or shelter a day or two? I wish your New Swishford
was in the middle of the sea."
"So it is," dryly observed Bowler.
"Fine fools you've made of us with your humbug and child's play,"
growled the other.
"_You_ don't want much making," retorted Bowler; "and if you want to
talk any more, you can talk to some one else."
Wallas accepted the invitation, and growled all round till everybody was
sick of him.
After a long absence Crashford returned without the umbrella.
"I couldn't find it," said he, sitting down. "It's gone."
"But you found the peaches, you blackguard!" said Bowler, springing up
and pointing to some juicy remains still clinging to the delinquent's
coat. And in his righteous indignation he dealt the traitor a blow
which sent him out of the tent.
A fight ensued there and then between Bowler and Crashford, unhappily,
to the disadvantage of the former, who was no match for the practised
hand opposed to him. The company interposed after a few rounds, and
none too soon for the damaged though still lion-hearted Bowler.
Crashford profited nothing by his victory, for it was decided
unanimously to exclude him from the tent till he chose to apologise for
his treachery; and meanwhile the remains of the slender provisions were
taken into safe custody out of his reach.
The day wore on, and the rain fell heavier and heavier upon the ulster-
roof over their heads. The wind whistled drearily above them, and the
mainland was entirely lost to sight. As far as they were concerned they
might be in the real New Swishford, a thousand miles from the nearest
land.
They huddled together silently, no one caring much to speak. Only
Braintree broke the monotony by shivering audibly, and the footsteps of
Crashford, as he paced up and down outside to keep warm, added a dreary
variety to the silence.
The afternoon drew on, and at last Bowler said--
"Better let the beggar in."
"Hadn't we better all turn out and see what's to be done?" said Gayford.
"We shall only come to grief here. The grub won't hold out for another
meal, and then it'll be something more than a joke."
"Come on, then, you fellows," said Bowler. And the roof was hauled
down, and the party turned dismally out once more to seek their fortune.