_Trouble and Consolation.--A fresh Proposal.--The Building of the
Camp.--Hard Work.--The triumphant Result.--Blisters and Balsam.--A new
Surprise by Solomon.--Illumination.--The rising Wind.--They go forth
to explore.--The impending Fate of the Petrel.--Wind and Wave.--A rough
Resting-place.--What will be the Fate of the Ship?--The Headland.--The
View.--Where are our departed Friends?_
AFTER the little white sail had disappeared around the headland, the
boys stood in silence for some time. The departure of Arthur and Tom had
made a perceptible breach in their numbers, and the thought that they
had gone on a long, an uncertain, and a perilous expedition seemed to
throw an air of gloom over those who remained behind.
Bart was the first to rouse himself.
“Seventy-four hours, with this wind; ought to do it,” said he.
“Do what?” asked Bruce.
“Well,” said Bart, “I’ve been making a calculation. I don’t see how St.
Pierre can be more than a hundred miles from here at the very farthest.
Now, this breeze ought to take them four or five miles an hour, and if
they went on without stopping, they certainly ought to reach St. Pierre
by this time to-morrow, even if they don’t find any settlements or any
fishing vessels on the way.”
“Yes; but they won’t find it so easy to get back,” said Bruce.
“O, yes, they will,” said Bart. “They won’t have to work their own way
back. They’ll get a schooner, and have no trouble.”
“Well,” said Bruce, “we’ll have to allow a week, at least.”
“Certainly,” said Phil. “It won’t do for us to tie them down to two
days. If we do, we’ll be all the time in a fever, and watch for them day
and night. I’m determined not to expect them at all this time.”
“Sure an that’s the wisest risolution we can make, so it is,” said Pat,
sedately; “and, be the same token, it’s a month I’m goin to allow, so it
is; an, what’s more, I’m thinkin we’ll betther be afther buildin a bit
of a house, or tint, or camp.”
“A camp!” cried Bart. “Hurrah! that’s the very thing.”
“Yes,” cried Phil; “just like the camp in the woods behind the hill at
Grand Pré.”
“The very best thing we could think of,” said Bruce. “It’ll give us all
something to do, and at the same time it’s a positive necessity.”
“It’s a pity we hadn’t some of that spare lumber on board the Petrel,”
said Bart.
“Well,” said Phil, “I think we’ll have it all before another day;
for, from present appearances, she’ll be on the rocks soon; and if so,
there’ll be a general free delivery of her cargo all along the beach.
But we needn’t wait for that.”
“Sure an there’s nothin betther,” said Pat, “thin good honist spruce.
We can get sticks enough all around us, an have a camp that’ll be as
warrum, and as dhry, and as whowlsome as iver was, so we will.”
There was a hatchet which had been brought ashore in the chest, and had
already done good service in making the masts for the boat. This was now
made use of for the purpose of getting the necessary supply of poles
and brush for the camp. As there was only one hatchet, they could not
of course cut the brush quite so fast as was desirable; but Bruce cut
pretty quickly, and kept two of them well employed in carrying the poles
and brush to the grassy knoll. Phil and Pat did this work while Bart
occupied himself with the preparation of the ground for the erection of
the camp. He first selected a place that seemed suitable, where there
was a level space, about twelve feet square. Then he sharpened one of
the stakes, and cutting off a portion of it, about three feet long, he
hardened the point by burning it in the fire. He then marked out the
line of foundation, and made holes in the ground all around the
marked space, so that the stakes might be inserted without any delay.
Fortunately there were no stones to interfere with his work. The ground
was sandy, and he drove his stake in without any difficulty.
In this way they worked until noon, when Solomon called them to dinner.
All the boys were amazed at finding that the time had passed so
rapidly; and they saw by this a fresh and striking example of the
importance of having some pleasant occupation in life. It had been for
want of this, to a great extent, that their time had dragged along so
slowly, first during the famine on board the Antelope, and afterwards on
board the Petrel.
After dinner they examined their work, and concluded that the immense
heap of stakes and brushwood ought to suffice for the needs of any
ordinary camp; so now they proceeded to the important task of its
erection.
Bart had made a double row of holes around four sides, which were
intended to enclose the camp. These holes were about a foot apart, and
the rows were separated by a space of about three inches.
The next task was to prepare the stakes. These were sharpened, and cut
about seven feet long; and as fast as each one was prepared, it was
inserted as tightly as possible in one of the holes. Before long all the
stakes were set up, and the outline of the camp became dimly visible.
Bart and Phil now went off in search of roots, which might serve the
purpose of cords, to bind together those portions of the frame which
needed securing, leaving Bruce and Pat at work preparing other stakes,
the one with his hatchet, and the other with a knife. The roots were
found without any difficulty, most of them belonging to a species of
dwarf willow, or osier, and they were as flexible and as strong as the
stoutest cord.
The next thing was to take four long poles, and bind these along the
top of each row of stakes, so as to form the eaves of the camp. When all
these were secured, the framework was quite as strong as was necessary.
It now remained to form the roof. This was a matter of some difficulty,
but was at length successfully achieved. They had all had so much
practice in camp-building, that there was but little hesitation at any
stage of the proceedings. The way in which the roof was erected was
so ingenious that it deserves to be explained. They procured two stout
poles, about fifteen feet long, which they put at each end of the
structure, binding each firmly in its place, and leaving at the top a
fork, formed from the projecting stump of one of the severed branches.
Across these, and resting on these forks, they laid their ridge-pole,
and bound this firmly in its place. To make it still stronger, they
set up a third support in the middle of the camp, and thus made the
ridge-pole firm enough to bear the weight of any of them.
After this they proceeded to lay a row of poles along from the eaves to
the ridge-pole, and others again intersecting these. Thus they formed a
framework close enough and strong enough to admit of brush being placed
upon it, and this they proceeded to lay there after the manner of
thatch. The roof was pretty steep, and the spruce brush was so smooth,
and was laid on so compactly, that it could have resisted any ordinary
rain storm.
The remainder of their task was easy enough, the roof and frame having
been by far the most troublesome. One side was allotted to each, and
the work was interweaving spruce brush along the stakes. The space
was twelve feet long by six high. They began from the ground, and went
upward; and at length this was finished.
There was still an open space at each gable end, but it was their
intention to leave windows here. Poles were fastened in such a way that
a square space was left in each gable, which admitted an ample amount of
light, and the remainder was filled in with brush, like the sides. The
door, of course, had been attended to in the construction of the frame.
It had been hard work, but they were all adepts at the business, and
knew exactly how to do each thing. The consequence was, that by sundown
their camp was all completed, and only needed a few finishing touches,
which could very well be postponed till the following day.
They all sat down to their evening repast with the consciousness that
they had passed a well-spent day. Solomon had done his duty, as usual,
with a minute conscientiousness, and a painful care of the smallest
details, which was evinced by the exquisite flavor of the oyster stew.
The chief regret that they had was, that Arthur and Tom were not there
to share it.
After tea none of them ventured to move. They were more utterly fagged
out than they ever remembered to have been in the whole course of
their lives. There had, of course, been times when they had been more
exhausted, and Phil could tell a tale of weariness which might have
shamed his present feelings; but for the fatigue resulting from sheer
hard work, they never knew anything that had equalled this. Their hands
were all covered with blisters and balsam, while an additional air of
shabbiness had been given to them by new rents and tatters in their
clothes.
After sunset they noticed that the wind was stronger and the sea
rougher. The Petrel had moved also still farther in to the shore.
“Another night’ll finish her,” said Bruce, “if this wind continues.”
“I hope they’ll land,” said Bart, thinking of Arthur and Tom.
“Well, as to that,” said Bruce, “it seems to me that they won’t feel
inclined to sail all night; and they’ll land, if they only can; but the
trouble is, they may find themselves off some coast where no landing can
be made.”
“I dare say,” said Bart, thoughtfully, “that the coast is rough enough
all along, for most of the way; but then, fortunately, this wind is off
the land; so they’ll be all right. The danger would be if it was in any
other direction. As it is, the closer they keep in to the shore, the
safer they’ll be; and, in fact, the safest place for them would be close
in under the highest cliffs.”
“Well, that certainly is a consolation,” said Bruce, with a sigh of
relief. “I’ve been a good deal bothered all the afternoon, for I noticed
that the wind was rising. I rather think you’re in the right of it,
Bart, and I’m glad enough that you thought of that.”
“O, they’re all right,” said Phil, “as long as the wind is this way.”
“The throuble is,” said Pat, “they might have to go round some headland,
and thin they’d catch it, hot and heavy.”
“O, they wouldn’t try it if it was too rough,” said Bart. “They’d haul
up ashore, and wait till the wind went down. The fact is, they’ll do
just as any of us would do in the same circumstances. Neither Arthur nor
Tom is inclined to run any risks. They know that there’s no hurry, that
we’ve got lots of provisions. They’ve got a good supply, too, and so
they’ll take it easy. My opinion is, they both landed two or three hours
ago, hauled up their boat high and dry, picked up some drift wood, and
are at this moment sitting in front of a roaring fire, calmly discussing
what had best be done to-morrow.”
This discussion about the fate of their two absent friends made them
all feel quite at their ease once more, and soon after they went to bed
inside of the camp.
Here they found a pleasant surprise awaiting them, which had been
devised by Solomon. He had taken the fat out of some of the jars
of potted meat, and put it in two cups. In these he had ingeniously
arranged floating wicks, and lighted them. So now, as the boys entered,
they were surprised at a cheerful glow inside. At first they were
alarmed, and thought the camp was on fire; but a second look showed them
the truth.
Their camp now seemed very cheerful indeed. The ground was quite dry,
and each one rolled himself up in his blanket, which formed their only
preparation for bed. Here, reclining on the soft grass, with the green
walls of their camp encircling them, they chatted pleasantly for a short
time, and at length, one by one, dropped off into sound and refreshing
slumbers.
On awaking they all hurried forth. They found that the wind had
increased, and must have been increasing all night. Close in under
the shore the water was smooth enough, but a mile outside it began
to roughen, and a white line of breakers shone along the base of the
headland.
But it was the Petrel that now engaged all their attention. She had
been forced in to within a stone’s throw of the shore, and had evidently
touched bottom, for she lay a little over on one side. She had reached
a place where the sea felt the effect of the wind, and the waves broke
over her decks. She rose and fell occasionally, with a slow, heavy
movement, at the force of the waves that beat upon her. The shore
immediately opposite the place where she had grounded was all white with
foam, and it seemed as if the bottom where she touched might be strewn
with rough, jagged rocks.
Hard indeed was the resting-place to which the Petrel had come after so
long a wandering!
The boys looked on in silence. They did not exactly lament the fate
which seemed to impend over her, but, at the same time, they felt as
though, in some way, it might be a disaster to themselves. For the
Petrel, as long as she had floated, had served, at least, as a sort of
signal by which any passing vessel might be attracted; whereas, if she
were destroyed, their chance of rescue in that way grew less. They also
felt that the large store of provisions and supplies on board might yet
be needed; and in case of the unsuccessful return of Arthur and Tom,
they might need to visit her once more. But now all hope of this
seemed at an end. In this half-developed regret at her fate, there was,
however, no thought of salvage; that subject was forgotten.
After breakfast their attention was once more directed to the Petrel.
Any further operations in the camp had now to be postponed, for the
attractions of the imperilled ship were too engrossing to admit of
lesser thoughts.
“I say, boys,” said Bruce, “why can’t we try to get nearer? We can work
our way along at the top of the bank, I should think.”
“Of course we can,” said Bart. “At any rate, it’s not very far.”
“It won’t be worse than the upper part of that miserable brook,” said
Phil.
“Sure an I’d go on me hands and knees all the way, so I would, to git
nearer to her,” said Pat.
The coast that ran along terminated in the headland, between which and
the cove it consisted of steep banks, at first wooded, and rough cliffs.
The top of the bank all along was covered with trees, and seemed to
offer no greater difficulties than any other part of the woods. The
headland itself seemed over a mile away, and the Petrel was some
distance inside of this.
They thus resolved to go, and set forth at once.
“Be back in time for dinna,” said Solomon, as they climbed up the steep
bank to get to the top..
“O, yes,” was the reply, as they vanished into the woods.
It was decidedly rough walking. The ground was uneven, rising into
mounds and depressed into hollows. Sometimes fallen trees lay before
them; at other times underbrush so dense and so stubborn that a way
could only be forced through with the most persevering effort. Besides,
it was absolutely necessary to keep as near as possible to the edge of
the cliff, for they all knew how easily they might be lost, if they once
ventured out of sight of it. So they kept on, close by the brink,
even though places occasionally appeared which seemed much easier to
traverse.
At length they reached the place immediately opposite the Petrel. She
lay within easy stone’s throw. Before them the cliff went down with
rough, jagged sides, and the shore at its foot was covered with masses
of rock that had fallen there from the precipice. It was not more than
sixty or seventy feet down. On this elevation, and at this distance out,
they felt the full force of the blast.
The Petrel had certainly grounded, and it was evident to them that the
bottom was rough and irregular. She lay over on her side, her stern
nearest to the shore. The bows were sunk under to the depth of about
a foot, while the stern rose a little. She swayed backward and forward
with a regular motion, and there was a dull, gringing, creaking noise,
that came from her to their ears, and was plainly discernible through
the noise of the surf on the rocks below. The sea at this point was
quite heavy, and rolled over and over the doomed ship. The long waves
came sweeping up at successive intervals, and at every stroke the Petrel
would yield, and then slowly struggle back.
“I wonder how long she can stand this sort of thing,” said Phil.
“Not long, I should think,” said Bart; “but after all, the wind isn’t
very strong just yet, and if there are no rocks under her, she may hold
out some time.”
“If this wind grows to a gale, she’s done for.”
“But then it may not get any worse, and if it goes down, I’d undertake
to swim on board.”
“O, of course, if it gets smooth.”
“What do you say to going out to the point?” said Bruce.
“O, yes, let’s go.”
The point was not far away, and the woods were thinner. They reached
it without much difficulty. Standing here an extensive scene came upon
their view.
On the left, the coast line ran on for a few miles, rough and rugged
cliffs, with a crest of stunted trees. On the right, the coast line was
what they had already seen. In front was the boundless sea, covered with
foaming waves. At their feet the surf thundered in a line of foam, and
tossed its spray high on the air.
“I don’t altogether like the look of things,” said Bruce, after a long
and silent gaze upon the sea and the rough coast in the west.
“O, don’t fret,” said Bart. “Look, Bruce, close in to the shore under
the cliffs: why, it’s smooth enough there to paddle a raft in. They’ll
keep close in to the shore, and land whenever they want to.”
“Only they might try to round a headland like that,” said Bruce,
pointing to a cliff which terminated the view towards the left, at the
base of which there was a line of white foam; “and if they did,” he
added, “I’m afraid neither Arthur nor Tom--”
He stopped abruptly, leaving the sentence unfinished.