HOW THE VOYAGE WAS BEGUN.
When Winn Caspar turned into his comfortable bunk aboard the raft on
the night of the storm, it never once occurred to him that the
_Venture_ might float before morning. She never had floated, and she
seemed so hard and fast aground that he imagined a rise of several feet
of water would be necessary to move her. It had not yet rained where
he was, and the thought that it might be raining higher up the stream
did not enter his mind. So he went comfortably to bed, and slept like
a top for several hours. Finally, he was awakened so suddenly that he
sprang from the bunk, and by the time his eyes were fairly opened, was
standing in the middle of the floor listening to a strange creaking and
scratching on the roof above his head. It had aroused him, and now as
he listened to it, and tried in vain to catch a single gleam of light
through the intense darkness, it was so incomprehensible and uncanny,
that brave boy as he was, he felt shivers creeping over his arms and
back.
Could the sounds be made by an animal? Winn knew there were wild-cats
and an occasional panther in the forests bordering the creek. If it
was caused by wild-cats there must be at least a dozen of them, and he
had never heard of as many as that together. Besides, wild-cats
wouldn't make such sounds. They might spit and snarl; but certainly no
one had ever heard them squeak and groan. All at once there came a
great swishing overhead and then all was still, save for the howling of
the wind and the roar of a deluge of rain which Winn now heard for the
first time.
The boy felt his way into the forward room and opened the door to look
out, but was greeted by such a fierce rush of wind and rain that he was
thankful for the strength that enabled him to close it again. Mingled
with the other sounds of the storm, Winn now began to distinguish that
of waves plashing on the deck of the raft. Certainly his surroundings
had undergone some extraordinary change since he turned in for the
night, but what it was passed the boy's comprehension.
After a long search he found a box of matches and lighted the lamp,
forgetting that all its oil had been exhausted the evening before. It
burned for a few minutes with a sickly flame, and then went out. Even
that feeble light had been a comfort. It had showed him that
everything was still all right inside the "shanty," besides enabling
him to find and put on the clothes that he had hung near the stove to
dry. As he finished dressing, and was again standing in utter darkness
puzzling over his situation, he was nearly paralyzed by a blinding
glare of light that suddenly streamed into the window nearest him. It
was accompanied by the hoarse roar of steam, a confusion of shoutings,
and the loud clangor of bells. Without a thought of the weather, Winn
again flung open the door and rushed into the open air. So intense and
dazzling was the flood of yellow light, that he seemed to be gazing
into the crater of an active volcano. It flashed by as suddenly as it
had appeared, and the terrified boy became aware that a big steamboat
was slipping swiftly past the raft, but a few feet from it. The
bewildering glare had come from her roaring furnaces; and had not their
doors been thrown open just when they were, she would have crashed at
full speed into the raft, with such consequences as can easily be
imagined. As it was she was barely able to sheer off in time, and a
score of voices hurled back angry threats at the supposed crew of the
raft, whose neglect to show a lantern had so nearly led to death and
destruction.
So long as he could detect the faintest twinkle of light from the
rapidly receding boat, or hear the measured coughings of her exhausted
steam, Winn stood gazing and listening, regardless of the rain that was
drenching him to the skin. He was overwhelmed by a realization of his
situation. That steamboat had told him as plainly as if she had spoken
that the _Venture_ was not only afloat, but had in some way reached the
great river, and was drifting with its mighty current. He had no idea
of how long he had thus drifted, nor how far he was from home. He only
knew that the distance was increasing with each moment, and that until
daylight at least he was powerless to help himself.
As he turned towards the door of the "shanty," he stumbled over
something, which, by stooping, he discovered to be the branch of a
tree. To the keen-witted boy this was like the sight of a printed page.
"That accounts for the noise on the roof that woke me," he said to
himself. "The raft was passing under those low branches at the mouth
of the creek, and I can't be more than a mile or so from there now."
For an instant the idea of paddling home in his canoe and leaving the
raft to its fate flashed across his mind, but it was dismissed as
promptly as it had come. "Not much I won't!" he said, aloud. "I've
shipped for the voyage, and I'm going to see it through in spite of
everything. Besides, it's my own fault that I'm in this fix. If I
hadn't carried away that cable this thing never could have happened.
What a fool I was! But who would have supposed the water could rise so
quickly?"
The thought of his little dugout caused the boy to wonder if it were
still attached to the raft where he had made it fast the evening
before. Again he ventured outside to look for the canoe, but the
darkness was so dense and the violence of the storm so bewildering
that, after a narrow escape from stepping overboard, he realized that
without a light of some kind the undertaking was too dangerous. "There
must be a lantern somewhere," he thought. "Yes, I remember seeing one
brought aboard." Finally he discovered it hanging near the stove, and,
to his joy, it was full of oil. By its aid his search for the canoe
was successful, and he was delighted to find it floating safely
alongside, though half full of water, and in danger of being stove
against the timbers of the raft by the waves that were breaking on
deck. With infinite labor he at length succeeded in hauling the little
craft aboard and securing it in a place of safety. Then, though he
would gladly have had the comfort of a light in the "shanty," the
thought of his recent narrow escape warned him to guard against another
similar danger by running the lantern to the top of the signal-pole,
and leaving it there as a beacon.
He could do nothing more; and so, drenched, chilled, and weary, the
lonely lad crept back into the "shanty." How dreary it was to be its
sole occupant! If he only had some one to talk, plan, and consult
with! He felt so helpless and insignificant there in the dark,
drifting down the great river on a raft that, without help, he was as
incapable of managing as a baby. What ought he to do? What should he
do? It was so hard to think without putting his thoughts into words.
Even Elta's presence and counsel would be a comfort, and the boy
laughed bitterly to recall how often he had treated the dear sister's
practical common-sense with contempt because she was only a girl. Now
how gladly would he listen to her advice! It was pretty evident that
his self-conceit had received a staggering blow, and that self-reliance
would be thankful for the backing of another's wisdom.
As Winn sat by the table, forlorn and shivering, it suddenly occurred
to him that there was no reason why he should not have a fire. There
was plenty of dry wood. How stupid he had been not to think of it
before! Acting upon this idea, he quickly had a cheerful blaze
snapping and crackling in the little stove, which soon began to diffuse
a welcome warmth throughout the room. By a glance at his watch--a
small silver one that had been his father's when he was a boy--Winn
found the night to be nearly gone. He was greatly comforted by the
thought that in less than two hours daylight would reveal his situation
and give him a chance to do something. Still, the lonely waiting was
very tedious, the boy was weary, and the warmth of the fire made him
sleepy. At first he struggled against the overpowering drowsiness, but
finally he yielded to it, and, with his head sunk on his folded arms,
which rested on the table, was soon buried in a slumber as profound as
that of the earlier night.
At daylight the unguided raft was seen in the "Slant Crossing" by the
crew of an up-bound steamboat, and they wondered at the absence of all
signs of life aboard it. Every now and then the drifting mass of
timber touched on some sand-bar or reef, but the current always swung
it round, so that it slid off and resumed its erratic voyage. At
length, after floating swiftly and truly down a long straight chute,
the _Venture_ was seized by an eddy at its foot, revolved slowly
several times, and then reluctantly dragged into a false channel on the
western side of a long, heavily-timbered island. Half-way down its
length the raft "saddle-bagged," as the river men say, or floated
broadside on, against a submerged rock. It struck fairly amidship, and
there it hung, forming a barrier, around the ends of which the hurrying
waters laughed and gurgled merrily.
With the shock of the striking Winn awoke, straightened himself, and
rubbed his eyes, wondering vaguely where he was and what had happened.