On the River
Aldred had found the family at the Rectory a decided addition to the
attractions of Grassingford. The girls, although they were "out" and
"finished", were very companionable, and made much of both Mabel and her
friend; as for the boys, when first their stiffness and shyness had worn
off, they proved exceedingly jolly. Mabel was on excellent terms with
her cousins, who were frequent visitors at the Hall, and might always be
counted upon to take part in any fresh plans or projects.
On the Monday following Aldred's sudden illness and recovery, she and
Mabel were invited to spend the afternoon at the Rectory. It was their
last opportunity, as they were to start for the Grange first thing on
Wednesday morning, and Tuesday must be reserved for packing and saying
good-byes.
"We're all off this week," said Francis Farrington, as the visitors were
welcomed and borne away into the garden. "We are due back on Thursday,
worse luck! I could have done with another fortnight. I hate school!"
"You lazy boy!" said Mabel.
"All right! I'm lazy if you like. I wonder, though, how you'd care to
change places with me, and be in old Barlow's Form. He's the most
fearful Turk, and gets as savage as a bear if one doesn't construe
properly--very different from your Miss Drummonds and Miss Bardsleys."
Mabel laughed.
"Shall I go to Stavebury with Piers and Godfrey, and you can take Aldred
back to Birkwood?"
"Done! It would be jolly good fun--for me, at any rate. I should be
living in clover."
"Except for the work--you mustn't forget that."
"Work! I don't call your lessons work! They seem mostly cookery and
wood-carving, varied by hockey and tennis."
"Don't be nasty! We have to use our brains during school hours and
prep., though we do have jolly times in between. You needn't laugh at
cookery, for you were ready enough to eat the queen's cakes that Aldred
and I made last week."
"I'm not laughing. They were delicious; I only wish you'd make some
more! All the same, don't you suppose that the amount of grind you go
through is anything like equal to ours; if you had old Barlow to set
your exercises, you'd soon find out."
"Well, you don't want girls to swat as hard as boys," said Piers, who
was rather fond of airing his opinions on various topics. "Spoils their
complexions! They're put in the world to do the ornamental."
"Are we, indeed, sir? Thank you!" replied Mabel, with a mock curtsy. "I
wonder what you know about complexions, by the by? As for exerting
ourselves, we can do quite as much as you, in our own way."
"Granted, so long as you keep to your own way, and don't poach on
ours!"
"Here, you two, stop bickering!" said Godfrey. "When Piers begins an
argument he'll hold forth for hours together. We don't want to discuss
'Women's Sphere', or the 'Education Question'! Leave these to the
Debating Society, and let's enjoy ourselves! How would Mabel and Aldred
like to come with us to Holt's farm? The pater wants us to take a
message there. It's only three miles away, and Aldred, at any rate,
hasn't seen the river."
"I've never been to Holt's farm either," said Mabel "I haven't even
crossed the ferry."
"It would be better fun than tennis," agreed Piers. "Our court seems a
very poor affair after the one at the Hall; it's hardly worth playing
on."
Both Mabel and Aldred felt disposed for a walk. It was a fresh and
bright afternoon, and the prospect of seeing a new part of the
neighbourhood was attractive. Mabel often went out riding on horseback,
or in the motor with her parents, and thus knew the high roads for many
miles around; but unless she accompanied her cousins, she seldom
explored the lanes and by-paths.
"In one way it's much jollier to go on foot," she declared. "You can
stop to pick flowers, or climb on to banks; and I do so enjoy getting
over stiles!"
"You'll have enough of them this afternoon," laughed Francis. "There are
at least twelve to cross, if we go through the fields by the river."
"Are Sibyl and Ida coming with us?" asked Mabel.
"No, they think the Grants may be calling, so they don't dare to be out.
Would you each like a stick? We've an assortment here, in the umbrella
stand; this is a nice little one with a crooked handle for Aldred, and
I can recommend this cherrywood for you, Mabel."
The country at Grassingford was exceedingly pretty. It was not grand,
nor mountainous, but was well wooded and dotted with picturesque
farmsteads. There were deep lanes, with high hedges, which at the
present season of the year were a mass of flowering hawthorn; and every
little copse and spinney showed blue with hyacinths. There was a
delightful spring-like feeling in the air, that combination of sun and
breeze, bursting buds, and opening leaves which promises returning
summer, renews all the vitality of human beings, and sets us singing
like the birds for the mere joy of being alive. Such days seem echoes of
the Golden Age slipped out of Paradise, days when we want to forget
houses and cities and civilization, and go into the fields to learn the
lessons Mother Nature has to teach us--lessons as old as the hills, but
fresh every year, when they are fraught with the mystery of new
creation.
The path to the river lay across fields, and it would have been
difficult to find it without a guide who knew the way. It zigzagged
between patches of growing corn and hay, turned sharply round corners,
and for a short distance even led down the half-dry bed of a stream.
"The fact is, it isn't a proper path at all," said Francis. "It's only a
short cut that we found out for ourselves; it saves a mile."
"It's lovely! I should want to come by it, even if it were a mile longer
instead of shorter," said Aldred, who always preferred the romantic to
the practical. "How do you manage when the stream is full?"
"Oh! we can't get along unless we wade. We came once last winter and had
to turn back; the water was up to this stone, a regular rushing torrent,
very different from what it is now. Can you scramble over this wall?
Take my hand. Now, you see, we are in the lane, and we shall get to the
ferry in a minute."
The old-fashioned ferry was a most picturesque feature of the tidal
river, a large, flat-bottomed boat being worked on chains, which
stretched from one bank to the other. Sometimes a horse and cart, or a
flock of sheep, would be taken over, as well as ordinary passengers, the
whole cargo being slowly wound across the water by the ferryman, who
turned a creaking windlass on board. The whole arrangement seemed a
delightful survival of days when no one was ever in a hurry, and life
revolved on leisurely wheels, as different from our modern rush and
excitement as a bullock cart is from a motor car. Aldred was fascinated
with the quaint contrivance, and anxious to cross on it; but Francis had
other projects.
"I say! Wouldn't it be jolly if we could get Pritchard to lend us his
small boat, and row ourselves up the river to Holt's farm?" he
suggested.
"Ripping!" said Godfrey. "Why not?"
"It's not a bad idea," said Piers; "but have you fellows brought any
money with you? for I haven't."
"I've left my worldly wealth in my other trousers' pocket," admitted
Godfrey. "Francis, you'll have to pay the piper."
"All serene!"
"I wonder what he'd charge?"
"I don't know, but we can ask him. Here he is now. You'd like a row,
girls, wouldn't you?"
"Immensely!" said Mabel.
"Oh, I do hope he'll let us! It would be such fun!" added Aldred.
"We want to know if you'll hire out your small boat," said Francis to
the ferryman. "What would you charge to let us have it for an hour, or
perhaps a little longer?"
Pritchard stroked the short, grey stubble on his chin reflectively.
"Are you sure you can manage a boat amongst you?" he queried.
"Of course!" answered Francis, rather loftily. "We all know how to row;
we're as accustomed to the river as you are yourself."
"I don't know about that," said Pritchard, smiling. "You haven't got
fifty years at the back of you yet. It'll take a fairly strong arm to
pull the lot of you, especially against the tide. The boat's bespoke for
half-past four too."
Francis complacently felt his muscles, as if to suggest that he was
quite equal to the occasion.
"Say what you want for it," he replied.
"We'll undertake to bring it back in heaps of time," interposed Godfrey.
"How would half a crown be for the hour?"
"I'm afraid I've only got a two-shilling piece with me," said Francis,
coming down a little from his high horse.
"And two shillings is the usual price without a boatman," added Piers.
"I'd a deal rather you had a boatman with you, only I can't spare the
time. Well, I don't want to be hard on you; we won't quarrel over the
sixpence. One of the oars is spliced, and you'll have to be careful of
it. Thomas, help to run down the boat, will you?"
With the help of two strong pairs of arms, the _Maid of Llangollen_ went
grating along the shingle towards the river. She was short and broad,
and evidently not intended for racing. The boys inspected her with a
critical eye.
"She's a dreadfully heavy old tub," said Piers, "but she's seaworthy,
and I dare say we shall have some fun out of her."
"Who's to row stroke?" said Francis.
"I am, of course," answered Piers, in a tone that admitted of no
dispute. "Godfrey may have the other oar, and you can steer."
"And what may we do?" asked Mabel.
"The ornamental, of course! You and Aldred can just sit and enjoy
yourselves."
"We'd much rather take our share of the work."
"Well, perhaps we'll let you have a turn by and by, if you're so
particularly anxious."
Pritchard by this time had run the boat down the bank and rowed her
round to a small jetty, from which it was easy to board her.
"There's a nice place for you misses here, in the stern," he said. "Be
careful! It's wet in the bottom. There's a tin can under the seat, if
you want to bale her out."
It was most delightful on the river. In spite of her clumsy build, the
_Maid of Llangollen_ seemed to glide along in the easiest manner. Mabel
and Aldred leaned back luxuriously in the stern of the boat, trailing
their hands in the water, and watching the regular dip of the oars. The
party were all in the best of spirits, and began to exchange jokes and
sing songs.
"Yo di diddle diddle dee,
Five jolly sea-dogs are we.
We've to heave the anchor, and our friends all hanker
To join our companee!"
chanted Francis.
"Is that original?" asked Mabel.
"Of course it is! Don't you know my remarkable style by this time? I'm
the coming poet!"
"A modest one, at any rate!" laughed Aldred.
"Oh, it doesn't do to hide one's light under a bushel! Nobody believes
in you nowadays unless you advertise yourself."
"I thought self-praise was no recommendation."
"Quite a mistaken idea! To alter Shakespeare a little, one can say:
Sweet are the uses of advertisement!"
"You must give us a better specimen of your poetry before we'll believe
in you," said Mabel. "I shall call you a doggerel rhymster at present."
"All right! How do you like this?--
'Tis unkind, most naughty Mabel,
Your poor cousin's lines to label
As but trashy, worthless rhymes
Only fit for strolling mimes.
Don't you see the genius burning
In each verse that I am turning?
Some fine day--I'll give a hint--
You may see my name in print!"
"It will be among the advertisements, then," said Aldred. "I suppose you
really made up that one?"
"Certainly; a poor thing, but mine own," said Francis, with an attempt
at a bow. "You needn't clap, because, after all, I'm rather modest, and
it might raise a blush on my cheek."
"We weren't going to--though we'd like to see the blush, I assure you!"
"Would you like another verse? I'm waxing poetical: I suppose it's a
matter of practice."
"No, thanks, we've had enough!" exclaimed Piers. "You'd better drop
poetry, and stick to steering; you've nearly bumped us into the bank
more than once."
"Can't I have a turn at rowing now?" asked Mabel. "You promised I
should."
"All serene!" said Piers. "You may take my oar. Steady! Don't go
upsetting us!"
"Then let me have yours, Godfrey," said Aldred. "I do so want to try
too!"
"It's the spliced one," said Godfrey, "but I don't suppose you're likely
to smash it."
It was the first time Aldred had ever tried to row, and it was much
harder work than she had supposed.
"Look here! you're not feathering your oar properly," commented Piers.
"You oughtn't to put it in so deep, nor bring it out with a jerk. Watch
how Mabel is doing it."
"Oh, I know!" replied Aldred rather impatiently. She did not like to
receive any criticisms, and, setting her feet firmly, gave a mighty
pull. The next instant over she went on her back, and away went the oar
into the water. Luckily, Piers had plenty of presence of mind. He put
out his hand and caught the oar just as it was floating past the stern.
"We very nearly lost it!" he remarked. "It was luckily near enough to
reach."
Aldred retired into the stern again, feeling decidedly crestfallen, all
the more so as Mabel was getting on nicely. Her friend's efforts did
not last long, however; she soon declared that her hands would be
blistered, and relinquished her seat to Piers, who was longing to be in
command again.
"It's far better for you to look on," he said. "Girls aren't much good
at rowing."
"How about Grace Darling?"
"Oh, well, she was the exception that proves the rule!"
"Here we are, close to the farm!" exclaimed Godfrey. "We must try to
find a good landing-place."
They decided that it was not worth while for all to leave the boat, so
Francis volunteered to get out. He ran across a field to the farm,
delivered his father's message, and was back almost before the others
had time to grow impatient.
"We must turn her about now," said Piers. "Oh, thunder! It's later than
I thought; we shall have to hurry up, if somebody wants the boat at
half-past four. Francis, you had better take Godfrey's oar."
Once on the river again they found that their return was a very
different matter from their former journey. The tide was running out in
a fast and strong current against them, and though Piers and Francis
tried their utmost, they could scarcely make any headway. It was a heavy
boat for two boys to manage, and the possibility of their being back in
time seemed doubtful.
They had gone perhaps two-thirds of a mile, when suddenly there was a
harsh, grating sound under them.
"Hallo! We've run aground!" cried Francis.
This was bad news indeed, but it was only too true. They had not known
that a sandbank was there; on their way up they had passed over it
easily, but the tide was going out so rapidly now that already it was
almost uncovered. The boat seemed stuck fast, and although the boys made
every effort, they were not able to free her with their oars. They
pulled off their boots and stockings, and, jumping overboard, tried to
push or drag her from the shoal, but all to no purpose; she was sunk so
deeply in the soft sand and gravel that they could not move her an inch.
"What are we to do?" asked Godfrey.
"Stay where we are, I suppose, till the tide floats her off again,"
replied Piers.
"It's a pleasant look-out, anyhow!" said Francis.
"And Aunt Winifred will be wondering where we are, too, if we don't turn
up for tea," added Mabel.
"It's a pity we didn't bring some tea with us, and we could have had a
picnic," said Aldred. "I'm so thirsty!"
"There's nothing to offer you but the river, I'm afraid."
"No, thanks, it's too muddy for my taste."
"'Water, water, everywhere, nor any drop to drink!'" quoted Piers.
"And what our thirst will be ere long,
One doesn't like to think!"
rapped out the irrepressible Francis, whose muse was not quenched even
by this disaster.
"We're in a fix, and that's the solemn truth," said Godfrey.
They were, indeed, in a most awkward predicament. By the time the tide
was high again it would be midnight, and they certainly could not see to
row in the dark. There was every prospect that they would have to spend
the night on the shoal, without tea or supper, or extra wraps.
They waited for perhaps an hour and a half, while the sandbank grew to
quite a respectable island. There were woods on either hand, so it was
most unlikely that their plight would be noticed from the shore; their
only chance of relief was from a passing boat--a faint hope, for as a
rule there were very few craft on the river.
"I begin to understand how a shipwrecked mariner feels when he's waiting
for a sail!" said Aldred.
"I believe I'd trade my watch for a plateful of bread and butter," said
Francis.
Godfrey suddenly stood up in the stern and waved his hat.
"A boat! A boat!" he cried eagerly. "Hallo, there! Hi!"
Francis and Piers immediately joined him in making such a noise that
nobody but a deaf person could have ignored it. The fisherman who was
rowing in their direction evidently realized the situation; he signed to
his mate to stay in the channel, then, clambering overboard, came wading
in his tall boots on to the island.
"Why, it's Sam Ball, who sings in the choir!" exclaimed Godfrey.
Their rescuer regarded them with a rueful grin.
"You've got yourselves into a precious mess here!" he said briefly.
"Can you help us to pull her off?" returned Piers anxiously.
"Pull her off! Couldn't do it with a team of horses! She'll have to stop
where she is until the tide floats her. I'll take you off, and that's
the best I can do for you. Hoist one of them young misses on my back;
I'll carry them first."
He waded with Aldred to his own boat, returning to fetch Mabel, and the
boys scrambled after him as best they could.
"It's Pritchard's boat, isn't it?" he said. "I'm passing the ferry, so
if you like I'll tell him what's happened. If you cross through the wood
there, and turn to the right of the iron gate, you'll find your way
straight to the village."
The boys went home in rather subdued spirits.
"We shall have to go down to the ferry this evening and explain things
to Pritchard," said Piers. "I hope he won't cut up rough about the
boat."
"I'm afraid he'll want compensation," said Francis, "I split that
spliced oar with trying to shove her off."
"What an abominable swindle! It'll take half our next term's cash. I
don't believe the pater will stand it for us."
"I'm sure he won't, after that little affair of the rifle and old
Carter's dog!" put in Godfrey.
"Well, never mind if we have to pay up. We shall survive it, I suppose,"
said Francis. "We're making Mabel and Aldred look quite uncomfortable.
It seems a stingy trick to take them out rowing, land them on a
sandbank, and then spend all the rest of the time growling over the
damage. But I know one thing: if ever we have that boat again, I'm going
to make a chart of the river first, and mark down all the shoals!"