LITTLE KO-WIK-A SAILS OUT TO SEA.
There was a long swell heaving in over the bar at the mouth of the
river, but no breakers; and the little fleet, crossing it easily, laid
a course down the coast. A stretch of twenty miles lay before them ere
they would find another opening into which they could run for shelter,
and they were therefore desirous of making the run before night. On
most waters this would not have been difficult; but just here was a
strong head current, that of the Gulf Stream, running fully three miles
an hour, and they knew that to overcome this, and also to make twenty
miles during the day, would tax the sailing powers of their small
craft to the utmost. Nor could they all sail. The _Hu-la-lah_ had no
centre-board, and with the wind somewhat forward of abeam, the use
of her sail would only have driven her off shore. The Lieutenant was
therefore obliged to rely upon his paddle and keep close to the coast.
The cruiser, being a slow sailer close-hauled, kept him company, but
the _Psyche_ and _Cupid_ drew gradually ahead, and were soon out of
hailing distance.
It was so delightful to find themselves again sailing, and their canoes
were doing so splendidly, that the boys hated to stop. And why should
they? There was nothing to fear. They knew where they were going, the
others were in company, and a halting-place for the night had been
agreed upon. They would stop when they reached it, and that would be
soon enough.
Until noon the breeze was very light, but after that it freshened
and soon came off the land in angry little gusts that suggested the
propriety of reefing. With a single reef in each of their sails, they
ran until late in the afternoon, when they sighted a cut leading into
the great land-locked sheet of Biscayne Bay. They were to enter this
bay and cruise down behind its outer keys to Cape Florida, but it had
been decided that they should camp on the upper side of the cut for
that night.
The wind had increased in strength until now even double-reefed sails
could hardly be carried on the canoes. The whole sky was covered with
dark clouds, while a bank of inky blackness was rising in the west.
It was evident that a wind-squall of unusual violence would shortly
burst upon them, and almost at the same moment both the canoemates
lowered their sails, jointed their paddles, and headed straight in for
land. As he lowered his sail and cast a glance astern in search of the
other boats, Sumner noticed a large steamer coming down the coast. He
wondered if she were not too close in for safety, but the immediate
demands of his situation quickly drove all thoughts of her from his
mind.
In the teeth of the spiteful gusts, and facing the ominous blackness,
they worked their way in until they could see the very place that
the station-keeper had described to them as being a suitable
camping-ground. Five minutes more would take them to its shelter. Just
then Sumner shouted to Worth, and drew his attention to a strange craft
that he had been watching for several minutes. It was coming out of the
cut, running dead before the wind, but yawing and gybing in a manner
that indicated either utter recklessness or absolute ignorance on the
part of its crew. The two canoes were so close together that Worth
could hear Sumner plainly as he shouted:
"It's an Indian canoe, and apparently unmanageable. I'm going to up
sail and run down for a look at it. Do you paddle in to shore, and be
out of harm's way before that squall bursts."
"Oh, Sumner, don't run any risks!" shouted Worth.
"All right, I'll be careful. But you'll make things a great deal easier
for me if you will start at once for shore. That's a good fellow."
So Worth did as his friend desired, and Sumner, hoisting his
double-reefed main-sail, bore down on the strange canoe, which would
otherwise have passed him at quite a distance. It was going at a
tremendous pace, and as the two craft neared each other, Sumner saw to
his consternation that the sole occupant of the dugout was a child who
stretched out its little arms imploringly towards him. He saw this as
the runaway canoe, under full sail, shot across his bow.
A tumult of thought flashed through the boy's mind like lightning. He
was near enough to land to reach it in safety. That child, if left
alone, was rushing to certain destruction. He might be able to rescue
it, and he might not. The chances were that he would lose his own life
in the attempt. Very well; could he lose it in a better cause? What
would his father have done under similar circumstances? That last
question was sufficient. There was no longer any room for argument.
Even during his moment of hesitation the boy had been loosening the
reef-line of his main-sail, and simultaneously with his decision a
quick pull at the halyard exposed its full surface to the wind. Over
heeled the canoe, with Sumner leaning far out on the weather side. Then
her head paid off, and under the influence of the first blast of the
squall she sprang away like a frightened animal, in the direction taken
by the runaway.
That same afternoon a fleet of Indian canoes, containing Ul-we and
his companions, had crossed Biscayne Bay from the main-land. Instead
of descending the river on which they had left our explorers, they
had skirted the edge of the 'Glades to another that flowed into the
bay, the secret of which they did not choose to have Lieutenant Carey
learn. Although it still lacked a day of new moon, they decided to take
advantage of the fair wind, cross the bay, and spend the intervening
time in catching and smoking a supply of fish at a point several miles
above Cape Florida.
In the canoe with Ul-we was his six-year-old brother, the little
Ko-wik-a, who was sometimes allowed to hold the sheet while they were
sailing, and who considered himself fully competent to manage the boat
alone. However, being very wise in some things, he did not say this nor
express in words his longing for a chance to prove his skill. He simply
waited for an opportunity that was not long in coming.
After the Indians had pitched their camp, Ul-we, taking Ko-wik-a with
him, went up to the cut to set a net into which fish would run with the
flood-tide. Reaching the place, he went into the mangroves to cut some
poles, leaving his little brother in the canoe.
This was Ko-wik-a's chance, and he was quick to seize it. He would now
show Ul-we that if he was little, he could sail a boat. The big brother
had hardly disappeared when the little one shoved the canoe out from
the mangroves and grasped the sheet in his chubby hands. The sail was
already hoisted. He did not try to steer, but the wind and swiftly
ebbing tide did that for him. A minute later and he was running out of
the cut at racing speed, wholly jubilant over the complete success of
his experiment. When he got ready to turn round and go back, he became
a little frightened to find out that something more than wishing to do
so was necessary. When his craft shot out from the cut, and, leaving
the land behind, headed out into an infinitely larger body of water
than the little fellow had ever before seen, he became thoroughly
demoralized, and began to call loudly for Ul-we.
Poor Ul-we had just discovered that both his little brother, whom he
loved better than anyone or anything in the world, and his canoe had
disappeared, and was rushing frantically towards the outer beach. His
instinct told him what had happened, and his one hope was to reach the
end of the cut in time to swim off and intercept the runaway.
When he did get there it was only in time to catch a fleeting glimpse
of his own well-known sail far out at sea, with another much whiter and
smaller one behind it. Then a cruel squall burst over the ocean. In a
cloud of rain and mist, borne forward by the fierce wind, the two sails
disappeared and the whole landscape was blotted from view.
From a place of safety on the opposite side of the cut, though unseen
by Ul-we, Worth Manton strained his eyes for a last glimpse of the
_Psyche's_ fluttering signal flag, and the others, rapidly nearing him,
wondered at his gesture of despair as it was blotted out.
The squall was long and fierce, and by the time it had passed, the
darkness of night had shut in and the stars were shining.