A CANOE TRIP
When the completed canoe had been set into the water that evening, a
daring plan had entered Frank's mind. On his visit to the sanitarium he
had noticed that, at the foot of the cliff, there flowed a stream of
water. He thought it might be the same one that ran past the camp, and he
determined to learn if this was so.
"If it is, I can make the trip much more quickly than I did before," he
said to himself. "I'll try it when the others are asleep."
Frank noted that the boat floated well on the water. It was light, and
with one passenger could easily be propelled, so as to make swift time.
"I'll have the current with me going," the boy thought, as he noted that
the stream ran in a general direction toward the sanitarium. "I'll have
to paddle back against it. Of course maybe this is not the same creek or
river that flows past the cliff, and there may be falls or rapids in it
that I can't take the boat through. But it will do no harm to try."
He was all impatience for his companions to go to bed. Fortunately for
him they were tired out with the day's labor on the canoe. They prepared
an early supper, and, after talking a while around the campfire,
discussing what they would do, now that they had a boat, the boys went to
their cots.
Frank's bed was nearest the back wall of the tent, and he was glad of
this, as it would make his exit easier. He thought his chums would never
go to sleep, but at length their heavy and regular breathing told him
they were slumbering.
Cautiously he gathered his clothes in a bundle and shoved them out under
the tent. He had, unknown to his companions, made up a package of food,
as he did not want to get caught again with nothing to eat. Making no
noise, he crawled under the tent, as he had done before. He looked at his
watch. It was a little after ten o'clock. He hurriedly dressed outside
the tent, and then, securing the paddle, he made his way to where the
canoe floated in the creek.
It was a bright moonlight night, warm, calm and still. Frank felt just a
little uneasiness as he stepped into the boat and shoved off. It was
rather a queer thing to do, he thought, and he wondered what his chums
would say if they saw him. But, he reflected, it was important to him to
solve the secret which bothered him so greatly.
Paddling cautiously, Frank sent the frail craft out into the middle of
the stream. There was not much current, but what there was helped him
along. He urged the boat forward more rapidly as he left the camp behind,
and soon he was half a mile on his strange night journey.
Only for the light draught of the boat Frank would never have been able
to get along. Even drawing but a few inches, the canoe several times
touched sand bars over which it glided. Frank did not know the channel,
and he had to trust to luck. But, as he went on he noticed that the
stream was becoming wider and deeper, and he had no fear but that he
might continue on for many miles.
"If only it goes in the right direction," he murmured. "It may be an
altogether different creek than this which flows past the cliff. If it is
I've had all my trouble for nothing. I want to get back before the boys
wake up, if I can."
On and on he went. The moon threw fantastic shadows through the trees to
the surface of the stream. Now the boat would glide along in the
darkness, caused by the overhanging branches, and again it would forge
ahead into a bright patch of silvery light.
"I wonder if the telephone line is anywhere in this locality," Frank
mused, after he had paddled for an hour or more. "If I could get a
glimpse of that I would be reasonably certain I was going in the right
direction."
He glanced overhead several times, but could catch no sight of the wire.
Now the boat was going at a more rapid rate as the current was swifter.
The stream twisted and turned, until Frank did not know in which
direction he was going.
Suddenly, as he was paddling, he heard a sound that made him draw the
blade from the water, and listen intently. It was the noise made by water
dashing on rocks, and it seemed but a short distance ahead.
"Falls!" exclaimed the boy. "I've got to get out and carry the boat."
He kept on until, in the moonlight, he could see where there came a break
in the stream as it tumbled over a little cliff. Swinging the nose of the
canoe ashore, Frank grounded the craft and got out. He walked to the edge
of the falls and looked at them. They made a beautiful picture in the
moonlight, but it was a scene the boy found little pleasure in gazing at.
It meant that he would have to carry the boat around them.
"Well, there's no help for it," he said, with a sigh. "Luckily the canoe
is light."
Frank picked it up, and put it over his head and shoulders, as the Maine
guides carry their frail craft. The way was rough, and before he was half
way past the falls, Frank began to fear he could not make it. But he kept
on, and half an hour later he floated the canoe into the quiet waters at
the foot of the waterfall. Then he began paddling again.
It was past midnight when the stream, which had now become a little
river, took a sudden turn. As he rounded it Frank uttered a
half-suppressed exclamation. There ahead of him, perched on the cliff, at
the foot of which the river flowed, was the sanitarium.
"That's what I wanted to know," he said, as he steered the canoe over
toward the cliff. "I can't do anything to-night, but I might as well go
up and take a look around. It may come in useful later."
Frank tied the boat in a sheltered spot at the foot of the cliff. Then he
began to look for a path to ascend. Luckily the moon shone brightly on
the face of the rocky incline, and Frank observed a path that seemed to
afford a way up. Cautiously he began ascending. Up and up he went, until
he stood on the top. Before him was a fence, with high iron pickets, put
there evidently for the double purpose of keeping certain persons out,
and certain other persons from falling over the cliff.
"Too risky to scale that," Frank mused, as he noted the sharp-pointed
palings. "I'll walk along it a bit."
He started to make a circuit, going along the edge of the cliff, for he
thought there might be a gateway in the fence. As he was moving
cautiously along, looking for an opening, he was startled by a sudden
challenge:
"Who are you, and what do you want?"
Frank glanced up, to see a man looking at him. The fellow was attired in
the uniform of an attendant at the sanitarium.
"What do you want?" the man repeated sharply.
Several plans flashed through Frank's mind. Should he make inquiries of
the attendant concerning that which he so desired to know? He half
resolved to, and then he realized that the man was but a keeper, and,
probably, could not enlighten him.
"I'm looking for a friend," Frank said.
"No one allowed around here," the man went on. "This is private property.
Be off, now, before I set the dogs on you."
Frank knew he could gain nothing by staying. He had found out what he
wanted to know, namely, that the stream near the camp ran to the
sanitarium. He turned quickly, and made his way to where he had ascended
the cliff. The man was watching him, but, when he saw the boy disappear
he was, apparently, satisfied, and went on walking around his post on the
grounds of the institution.
Frank reached the canoe, shoved off, and began rapidly paddling back.
With long strokes he sent the frail craft against the current, and, in
about an hour he came to the falls. He carried the craft around them, and
then set out on the last stage of his journey back to where his chums
still slumbered.