TO THE RESCUE
“Help! Help!” The cry came from Spouter, who was floundering around in
the semi-darkness of the fast-increasing storm. He had been pitched
overboard so suddenly that he had had no time in which to protect
himself. Consequently he had scraped his arm on the fallen tree which
had caused the overturning of the rowboat.
“What’s that cry?” came from Gif.
“Somebody calling for help,” answered Andy. “Look! One of our boats has
upset!”
“It’s the boat that had Spouter and Randy in it,” came from Jack.
“They must have struck one of the snags Gif told us about,” remarked
Fred. “Come! We’d better turn back and see what’s doing.”
In spite of the violence of the wind and the whitecaps on the lake none
of the others imagined that Spouter and Randy were in any great danger.
In fact, they were inclined to look at the affair as a joke. They knew
that both of the cadets who had gone overboard could swim well.
“Help! Help!” came again from Spouter. “Help! Quick!”
“What is it, Spouter?” called back Jack. “Are you hurt? How about
Randy?”
“Randy’s in trouble. He’s caught on a snag! Come quick!”
“Randy in trouble?” The cry came from several of the boys, and as
quickly as possible those in the first two boats turned around and made
for the spot where the upsetting had taken place.
What Spouter had said about Randy was true. When the boat upset Randy
had gone under and then come to the surface. He had attempted to strike
out for either the boat or the shore, and had then been caught by a
limb of the submerged tree. Then, because of this and because the boat
was pounding against it, the submerged tree had in some way turned
over, carrying the upper part of Randy’s body under the surface of the
lake. His feet were in the air, and he was kicking around vigorously
trying to extricate himself from his perilous position.
It took those in the two remaining boats but a few seconds to reach
the scene of the catastrophe. They beheld Spouter working frantically,
trying to pull Randy to the surface.
“What is it?” came from Jack.
“He’s caught! I can’t bring him up!” gasped Spouter. “He’s caught on a
tree limb, I guess.”
“Shove that boat back!” ordered Gif, and then reached out with his oar
to hold the craft in check, for the upturned boat was being driven by
the wind directly over the spot where Randy and Spouter were struggling.
It was certainly a critical moment, and no one understood it better
than did Jack. The tree had bobbed around, and for a few seconds
Randy’s head had come to the surface, giving him a chance for fresh
air. Then the tree had settled once more and poor Randy’s head had
disappeared as before. Jack hesitated only an instant, and then sprang
into the lake beside Spouter.
“What is it, Spouter? Can you make out?” he questioned quickly. “Is his
arm or part of his body caught, or is it only his clothing?”
“It’s his arm. It’s twisted around one of the tree limbs,” gasped the
other.
Taking a deep breath, Jack allowed himself to sink down. He felt around
in the darkness under water and found Randy’s free arm. The boy was
doing his best to liberate the other arm, which was held tightly in a
crotch of the submerged tree. Close beside the limb was a sharp rock,
and the force of the overturning tree was holding Randy against this.
“I’ve got to get him out somehow,” thought the young major, and,
pressing himself against the rock, he pushed with all his might on the
tree limb, trying to force it back. Then he gave his cousin’s body a
shove. Then, unable to hold his breath longer, he came to the surface.
As Jack did this the body of Randy appeared two yards away. He was all
but overcome when Spouter went to the rescue, followed by Fred. Between
them they managed to hoist the gasping youth into one of the boats.
Then they got into another craft, and Jack did likewise.
By this time the wind was blowing more furiously than ever and the
cadets found it all they could do to get to shore. Fortunately they
found a small inlet where, among the bushes, it was comparatively
quiet. In the meanwhile the upturned boat drifted away and was lost to
sight in the darkness.
“Is Randy all right?” questioned Gif anxiously, flashing a searchlight
he carried.
“He’s pretty well used up,” returned Fred. “But I think he’ll come
around.”
An instant later Randy gave a deep gasp and then opened his eyes. Then
he commenced to cough and presently sat up.
By this time it had begun to rain and the boys could see that they were
in for a sudden summer storm. At first the rain came down gently, but
soon there was a heavy downpour and all were glad to seek the shelter
of some overhanging trees.
In the meanwhile several of the boys did what they could for poor
Randy. He felt rather weak from his thrilling experience, and had
little to say. But they knew he would get over it, and for this they
were exceedingly thankful.
“Gee! if he’d been drowned I don’t know what we should have done,” Jack
said, with a shudder.
“Please don’t mention it, Jack!” returned Andy. “If anything like that
had happened to Randy I’d never have been able to go home and face
mother and father.”
“It shows how careful we’ve got to be when we’re out on this lake,”
came from Fred. “Gif warned us about those snags.”
“This is the only part of the lake where those snags exist,” said
Gif. “The rest of the lake is perfectly clear and deep enough for any
ordinary boat. Father used to warn us against coming up along this
shore. He always said it was much safer to go outside, even if one
rowed around some of those islands.”
“And I’ll say your father was right!” returned Spouter. “I think if
we’d taken the outside route we’d have been perfectly safe even in the
wind.”
“If you young gen’lemen wants to walk to the bungalow there’s a path
through the woods jest behind here,” announced Jeff presently. The
accident had scared him very much. “Of course it would be a wet walk,
but you could make it. It ain’t more’n a mile at the most.”
“Well, we’ll either have to do that or else stay here all night,” said
Gif.
“What about that lost boat?” questioned Jack.
“We can’t do anything about that in the wind and the darkness, Jack.
We’ll have to wait until the storm is over and it grows light.”
“And what about my suitcase and that one belonging to Randy? They both
went overboard when the boat upset,” put in Spouter mournfully.
“Maybe we can fish them up if the lake isn’t too deep,” suggested Fred.
“But we’ll want to do it in good weather and when it is light. We don’t
want to take any more chances with those snags.”
“What about you, Randy? Do you think you can walk to the bungalow?”
questioned Jack kindly.
“I can try,” was the brave response. “I think I can walk part of the
way, anyhow.”
“We can carry you the rest of the way if we have to,” answered Jack.
“In fact, I can start to carry you right now,” he added.
But Randy would not submit to this, and so the whole crowd started off
through the woods on foot, Jeff and Gif leading the way. They carried
their suitcases with them, but left the bundles behind.
By the aid of the searchlight it was comparatively easy to find the
path through the woods, and once on this they found walking not so bad.
Toward the end of the journey Randy lagged a little, and thereupon Jack
insisted that his cousin get on his back.
When they finally reached the bungalow they found the long, low,
one-story building in absolute darkness. The front door had two
padlocks upon it, and Gif produced the keys given to him by his father
and unlocked the portal and threw it open. Then he threw the rays of
the searchlight into the living room. At once came a scurry of little
feet and then several dark objects scuttled through an open doorway
toward the rear of the building.
“What were they?” questioned Spouter quickly.
“I don’t know. Either rats or squirrels. Anyway, they’re gone,”
answered Gif. “Come on in out of the rain,” for the wind was blowing
the rain well under the wide porch of the bungalow.
By the illumination afforded by the flashlight the boys could see that
the living room of the bungalow was plainly but neatly furnished with
a big square table, several chairs and two long benches. To one side
was a large fireplace on which some wood had been placed ready for
lighting.
“We’ll soon have this place looking more comfortable,” said Gif. “We’ll
get a good fire started, and then we can dry our clothing. In the
meantime Jeff can go into the kitchen and stir things up there.”
“How are you going to get a meal with the grub left behind?” questioned
Andy.
“Oh, there’s always something of some sort here, isn’t there, Jeff?”
“Was last time I was here,” answered the colored man. “We always left
some stuff in the tin canisters and in some glass jars, so that the
mice and rats and squirrels couldn’t get at ’em.”
Two lamps were lit, and then they lighted the fire in the big
chimneyplace. Soon the flames were roaring merrily, and then the lads
began to take off some of their clothing. Randy was glad to disrobe and
wrap himself in a blanket from one of the beds.
“I can’t help but think how close I was to drowning,” he whispered to
Fred. “It makes me shiver every time I think of it!”
“Don’t mention it!” was the reply. “We’ve got to be awfully careful
after this, Randy.”
“You bet!”
As soon as his guests had been made as comfortable as circumstances
permitted in the living room, Gif went out into the kitchen to learn
what Jeff was doing. He found the colored man building a fire in an
old-fashioned cookstove which had been in use in the bungalow for many
years.
“Ain’t very much to eat, I’ll tell you that,” said the colored man.
“Got a little coffee and sugar and some canned corn and some sardines.”
“Well, I brought a big loaf of bread along and some crackers from that
box we had,” answered Gif. “We’ll have to make out somehow. It’s better
than nothing. I’m thinking the storm will clear away by morning, and if
it does we can get out early and rescue that stuff we left behind.”
“Ain’t no way to do,” grumbled Jeff. “We ought to’ve stayed down to Mr.
Mumbleton’s place. If we’d have done that there wouldn’t have been no
accident nor nothin’.”
“Well, we’re here, and we’ve got to make the best of it, Jeff,”
answered Gif briefly. He was by no means pleased to think that the
colored man had been “wished on them” by his father.
Gif returned to the living room, leaving Jeff to prepare the evening
meal as best he could. He proceeded to take off more of his garments,
hanging them where they might dry before the open fire. In the
meanwhile all could hear the wind sighing mournfully through the trees
that surrounded the big bungalow and hear the rain coming down on the
roof as steadily as ever.
“Well, we’re much better off here than if we had stayed in the woods,
that’s sure,” said Jack, as he stretched out on a bench in front of the
fire. “This will be fine when once we get settled and have everything
to work with.”
“I wonder if those other fellows got back to the Willoughby camp,”
mused Fred.
“I don’t see why not. They started long before we did, and they don’t
have any snags on that side of the lake,” answered Gif.
The boys could hear Jeff moving around the kitchen and they heard
the clatter of kettles and pans as the colored man was preparing the
evening meal. Then, of a sudden, they heard Jeff let out a wild yell.
“Hi! Hi! I’s killed! I’s killed!” roared the colored man. “Save me!
Save me! I’s killed!”