STUCK FAST IN THE MUD
"About three mile's below Stanhope now; aren't we, Paul?" asked Jud
Elderkin, the leader of the second patrol, who, with Bluff, Nuthin,
Joe Clausin, Gusty Bellows, Old Dan Tucker, Phil Towns and Little
Billie, constituted the crew of the _Comfort_, commanded by the scout
master himself.
Jack had been given charge of the other boat, because Frank Savage was
not feeling any too well, though probably he had not let his folks know
about it, lest he be kept at home.
"More than that, Jud," answered the other; "and in the most ticklish part
of the river, too. I ought to signal the other boat to slow up some more.
You see, while there are no rocks around here, the eddies form sandbars
that keep changing, just as I understand they do away out in the big
Mississippi, so that a pilot on his way up-river finds a new channel cut
out, and bars that were never there when he went down a week before."
"And notice, too, that Jack's given over the wheel to Bobolink, while he
is back looking after the motor. Now, Bobolink is a cracker-jack of a
fellow to get up all sorts of clever schemes for sprinkling creepers in
the night; but he's a little apt to be flighty when it comes to running a
boat. There! what did I tell you, Paul; they've run aground, as sure as
you live!"
"You're right, Jud; and it looks like the _Speedwell_ might go over on
her beam-ends, the way she's tilted now. Good for Jack; he's ordering
them all over on the upper side! That may keep her from toppling over!"
Paul exclaimed, as he gave the wheel a little turn, and headed straight
for the boat in peril.
"Wow! that was a right smart trick of Jack's!" cried Jud, in admiration.
"If he'd lost his head, like some fellows I know might have done,
nothing'd ever kept that boat on her keel. And just to think what a nasty
job we'd have on our hands, trying to right her again, and before our
great trip had hardly started."
"Yes," added Old Dan Tucker, who happened to be close to them, "that
ain't the worst of it. You know the main part of the grub's aboard the
other boat Think of those juicy hams floatin' off down the Bushkill, with
not a single tooth ever bein' put in 'em; and all that bread and stuff
soaked. Oh! it gives me a cold shiver to even think of it," for Dan loved
the bugle call that announced dining time better than any other music.
The greatest excitement prevailed aboard both boats. Jack seemed to be
keeping his crew perched along the upper rail, where their weight had the
effect of holding the boat with the narrower beam from toppling over on
her side. It looked like a close shave, as Jud Elderkin said, with that
swift current rushing past on the port quarter, and almost lapping the
rim of the cockpit.
Of course, as soon as she struck Jack had shut off power, so that the
boat was now lying like a stranded little whale.
Paul brought up alongside, looking out that he did not strike the same
unseen sandbar.
"Take this rope, some of you, and make fast to that cleat at the stern,"
Paul called out, giving a whirl that sent it aboard the tilted motorboat.
"What are you meaning to do, Paul; give us a pull back?" asked Jack, who
did not seem to be one-half so "rattled" by the mishap as some of the
other fellows; simply because he had the faculty of keeping his wits
about him in an emergency.
"That's the only way I can see," came the reply. "And as the stern
is under water, Jack, what's the matter with backing when we start
to pulling?"
"Not a thing, that I can see," answered the skipper of the _Speedwell_;
"But I hope she slides off all right."
"Have your crew get as far aft as they can," continued Paul. "That will
lighten the bow, more or less. And keep them all on the side they're on;
only as soon as she drops back on an even keel, they must get over, so
she won't swing to starboard too much. All ready, now?"
"Yes, the rope's tied fast to the cleat, and unless you yank that out by
the roots, the boat's just _got_ to move! Say when, Paul," with which
Jack again bent over the three horse-power motor with which the faster
boat was equipped.
Paul took one look around before giving the word. He wanted to make sure
that everything was in readiness, so there might be no hitch. A mistake
at that critical stage might result in bringing about the very accident
they were striving to avoid, and as a consequence it was wise to make
haste slowly. That is always a rule good scout masters lay down to the
boys under their charge. "Slow but sure" is a motto that many a boy would
be wise to take to himself through life.
And when Paul had made certain that everything was in readiness he
started the motor of the _Comfort_, reversing his lever; so that every
ounce of force was exerted to drag the companion boat off its sandy bed.
Jack complied with the requirements of the situation by also starting
his motor the same way; and with the happiest results.
"Hurrah! she's moving!" cried little Nuthin, who was not in danger, but
just as much excited as though the reverse had been the case.
"There she comes!" yelled several of the anxious scouts, as the
_Speedwell_ was seen to start backward.
"One good pull deserves another; eh, fellows?" cried the delighted
Bobolink, who was wondering whether Jack would ever entrust the wheel to
his care again, after that accident; but he need not have worried, for
somehow the skipper did not seem to feel that it was his fault.
And Bobolink, when he was again placed in charge of the wheel, felt that
he had had a lesson that would last him some time. In this sort of work
there could be no telling what was going to happen; hence, each scout
would be wise to remember the rule by which they were supposed to always
be guided, and "be prepared." That meant being watchful, wakeful,
earnest, and looking for signs to indicate trouble, so that should it
come they would not be caught napping.
After a little while they came in sight of Manchester, with its smoking
stacks, and its busy mills. Possibly the news of the expedition of the
Stanhope Troop had been carried to the boys down here. At any rate, there
was a group of several fellows wearing the well known khaki-uniform, who
waved to them from the bank and acted as though wishing the expedition
success. They were pretty good fellows, those Manchester scouts, and the
Stanhope boys liked them much more than they did the members of the
Aldine troop up the river. Everybody knows there is a vast difference in
boys; and sometimes even the fellows in various towns will seem, to be
built along certain lines, having pretty much the same leading
characteristics. The Manchester lads had proven a straight-forward set in
what competitions the several troops had had so far. And hence every
fellow aboard the two boats swung his hat, and sent back hearty cheers.
"What's the matter with Manchester? She's all right!" they called, in
unison, as Gusty Bellows took upon himself the duties which, on the ball
field, made him invaluable as the "cheer captain."
His name was really Gustavus Bellows; but that was easily corrupted into
Gusty when the fellows learned on his first coming to Stanhope what a
tremendous voice he had.
About a mile or so below Manchester, Paul had said, the mouth of what
had once been Jackson Creek, might be found. Several of the boys
could remember having heard more or less about that abandoned canal;
perhaps the Manchester lads knew about it, since it was closer to
their home town.
Everybody, then, was anxiously scanning the shore on the left, because
they knew it must lie somewhere along there.
"I see the mouth!" exclaimed Phil Towns, who had very keen eyesight.
"Just look on the other side of that crooked tree, and you'll glimpse
a little bar that juts out. That must be on the upper side of the
creek's mouth; because Paul said bars nearly always form there. How
about that, Paul?"
"Go up head, Phil; you've struck the bull's eye," replied the other, with
a laugh, as he began to head in toward the crooked tree mentioned, and
which doubtless he took for his landmark when in search of the creek.
The _Comfort_ was in the lead now. Jack was content to play "second
fiddle," as he called it. As Paul had gone through the disused canal in
his canoe, exploring it pretty thoroughly, he must act as pilot.
Once they had pushed past the mouth of the creek they found a rather
disheartening prospect. The water seemed very low, so that they could see
bottom everywhere. Even Paul frowned, and shook his head.
"It surely must have lowered several inches since I was here yesterday,"
he declared, in dismay.
"Think we'll get through safely?" queried Jud Elderkin, anxiously.
"I hope we may," replied the scout master; "but we've just got to creep
along, and be mighty careful. You see, most of the bed of this canal is
mud, and not sand. Once the sharp bow starts to rooting in that, there's
no telling how far we'll explore before letting up. And it's surprising
how that same mud clings. I could hardly work my light canoe loose two or
three times. Just seemed like ten pair of hands had hold of her, and were
gripping tight. Easy there, Jack, take another notch in your speed, old
fellow! Crawl along, if you can. And have the poles ready to fend off, if
we get into any bad hole."
The boys were strung along the sides of the slowly moving motorboats.
Every fellow came near holding his breath with nervousness.
"Excuse me from getting stuck here in this nasty mess," remarked Nat
Smith, on board the roomier boat with Jack, Bobolink, Tom Betts, Andy
Flinn, Curly Baxter, Spider Sexton, Frank Savage and Bob Tice.
"Why, we might stay here a week," observed the last mentioned, in a voice
that told plainly how little he would relish such a mishap, when they had
planned such splendid times ahead.
"All summer, if it didn't rain, because the creek would get lower all
the time." Paul himself observed, with emphasis, wishing to make every
scout resolve to avoid this catastrophe, if it were at all possible.
"Who'd ever think," remarked Jud, "that there was such a queer old
place as this not more'n seven miles away from home? And not one of us
ever poked a boat's nose up this same creek before Paul came down, to
spy out things."
"Oh! well, there's a reason for that," replied Phil Towns, who knew all
about everything that had ever happened in and around Stanhope. "Until
lately, when the scouts organized in these three towns, the boys of
Stanhope and those of Manchester never had much to do with each other.
Many's the stone fight I've been in with those big mill chaps. Sometimes
we whipped them; and then again they chased us right home. So no Stanhope
boy ever dared go far down the river in the old days. That's the reason,
I guess, why none of us ever tried to explore this place. Say, we seem to
be getting in worse and worse, Paul. It isn't more'n a foot deep over
there on the right, and less'n ten inches here on the left."
"I know it, Phil, and I'm beginning to be afraid we'll have to back out
of this the best way we can," replied the scout master, reluctantly; for
his heart had been set on carrying out this plan, and he hated to be
compelled to give it up.
Hardly had he spoken than the boat brought up with a jolt that came near
throwing several of the scouts into the water and mud. They had run
aground after all! Paul turned the motor to the reverse, and the little
propeller fairly sizzled in its mad efforts to drag the craft back into
clear water, but it was just as Paul had said--there seemed to be
innumerable hands clinging fore and aft that refused to let go. And in
spite of all the work of the motor they did not move an inch.
"Rotten luck!" exploded Jud Elderkin, as he looked helplessly around, as
if to see whether a fellow could at least jump ashore; but since ten feet
of that ooze lay on either side, he failed to get much encouragement.
"Ahoy, _Speedwell_, you'll have to give us a lift!" called Paul, making a
megaphone out of his hands.
"Y-y-yes, t-t-turn about's f-f-fair p-p-play," added Bluff, waving his
bugle. "We p-p-pulled you off, and n-n-now you g-g-got to return the
f-f-favor."
"Listen!" said Paul, sharply; "Jack's calling something."
And as they all lined up along the side of the _Comfort_ they heard
Jack's voice come across the forty feet of water and mud, saying:
"Only wish we could, Commodore; but sad to say, we're stuck about as fast
in this lovely mess as you are, and can't budge her an inch!"