"Good morning, father! Would you like to go with us to the fish-traps,
or will you remain here and rest?"
It was the morning after Mr. Boyd's arrival at the island, and as yet
barely six o'clock. Budd had come to the door of his father's room, and
finding him awake had thus accosted him.
Mr. Boyd looked up at his boy with a cheerful smile.
"Good morning, Budd!" he responded. "You are around early here, aren't
you? Well, I like to see promptness and industry in any one; and as an
encouragement, if not an example, to you and Judd, I'll go right along
with you. How soon shall I be ready?"
"Breakfast will be on the table in ten minutes, and in course of a
half-hour we must be off," answered Budd. "Is there anything I can do
for you, father?"
There was manifest affection in the lad's tones as he asked this
question, and his face beamed with an irrepressible joy. The great
purpose of his heart had been accomplished; his father was not only at
liberty, but with him, and he had nothing more to ask.
"No, my son," replied Mr. Boyd, with no less show of affection; "I'll be
with you presently."
Budd went back to the kitchen and assisted Judd in the few preparations
necessary to complete the breakfast, and when Mr. Boyd joined the lads a
few minutes later all was in readiness for them to sit down to the
table; and within the prescribed half-hour the meal had been dispatched
and all were on board the Sea Witch.
Her moorings were speedily cast off, and with a strong southeast wind to
contend against she tacked down the bay. The first run carried her
close under the west shore of the bay, and just before she was put about
for her second tack, Budd, who was forward, noticed a large flat-boat
coming out from a small cove right ahead of them. A single glance
showed him that the one sail of the boat was furled, and that his old
employer, Mr. Benton, was pulling her along against the stiff breeze
with an enormous pair of sweeps.
"Where did Mr. Benton get that boat, and what is he doing with her,
Judd?" he asked.
"All I know about it," replied Judd, eying the clumsy craft, "is that he
had her down on Plum Beach, yesterday, loading her with sand. Where he
got her I can't say. Perhaps he knocked her together himself; I should
judge so, from her build. She won't stand a rough sea long, though; and
unless he hurries around with his load to-day, she'll go down under him,
I'm thinking."
"Are we going to have a storm right away?" asked Mr. Boyd, looking up at
the mackerel-sky.
"Yes, sir," replied Judd, promptly. "When the wind blows as fresh as
this from the southeast, it won't take over six hours to bring a regular
gale. That's one reason we have hurried off to the traps so early this
morning. I'll agree to show you all the rough weather you'll care to
see before we get back to the island;" and the lad spoke with a
positiveness that gave a convincing force to all his words.
On account of the strong head-wind the lads had thought it best to first
work down along the west shore and visit the two traps on that side of
the bay, and then, with the breeze on their starboard, run over to their
trap under Canonicut Island. This would give them, also, a stern-breeze
for their return home.
In carrying out this plan they ran on their third tack close enough to
Mr. Benton to hail him.
"Good-morning, Mr. Benton," Budd cried out. "Shall we take you in tow
and leave you at the beach?"
He made the offer, for he had noticed that the old man was making but
slow progress against the head-wind. A surly refusal of the offered
help was, however, the only answer he received. It was quite evident
that Mr. Benton, while he had steadily let the young partners alone
since his last encounter with them, had never forgiven them for the
advantage they had then gained.
A few minutes after passing Mr. Benton the first fish-trap was reached,
and the lads soon emptied it of its "catch" with all the quickness and
dexterity for which they were noted. Mr. Boyd assisted them somewhat,
but laughingly declared that "he would have to serve a regular
apprenticeship at the business before he could hope to compete with
them."
"Oh! you would learn how to do it sooner than you think," remarked Budd,
giving the huge net a vigorous pull that sent it slowly back to its
place. "I was as great a novice at the work as you are when Judd took me
into partnership; but I soon caught the knack, and rather like the
business now."
"He proved an apt scholar, and has outstripped his teacher," put in
Judd, laughingly. "I sometimes find it hard work to keep up my end with
him. But we are ready now, I believe, to work down to the lower trap."
The anchor of the sloop was raised, and her sails adjusted for the brief
run around Plum Beach Point to the other fish-pound. As she passed
along the sandy shore, on which the huge breakers were rolling with a
constantly increasing power, the boys noticed that Mr. Benton had
already beached his boat, and had commenced to load her with sand.
"He ought to know better than to put a flat-bottomed boat on there with
the wind from this quarter," observed Judd, sagely. "If the wind
increases, as I think it will, she'll pound to pieces there in no time;
and even if he's lucky enough to get her off before that happens, he
can't get up into his cove with her to-day."
"Why not?" asked Mr. Boyd, with some show of interest.
"Because she has no keel or center-board, and can't hold herself for a
moment against the wind. Just as sure as he clears the point with her
the wind will drive her straight ahead for our island, or by the west
end of it, on to the 'The Hummocks.' See if it don't turn out as I tell
you."
"You are right," Budd quietly assented--"unless, as you suggested,
before she goes down under him. That sand is heavy, and if he only puts
on a half-load, it will sink her well down into the water. A rough sea
may flood her, and between the water and the sand she will surely sink.
Possibly he will think of this, and be wise enough to leave her where
she is at the risk of her being stove up."
"I don't think so," went on Judd, quickly. "The first board that starts
off of her will make him think she is going to pieces right there, and
to save her he will try to get her off shore, and that means no chance
for the boat, and only half a chance for himself."
"Cannot you run in near enough to warn him of his danger?" asked Mr.
Boyd. "Perhaps, if he came right off the beach now, and before the gale
comes on, he could save himself and the boat, too."
"Little will he care for our warning," replied Judd; "but then we can
give it, all the same. Go forward, Budd, and shout to him;" and he put
up the helm and ran the sloop in as near the beach as he felt it was
safe to go.
"Mr. Benton," shouted Budd, "your boat will soon pound to pieces there;
and if you delay long about putting off shore there will be great risk
about your getting into your cove. The wind is increasing every minute,
and will soon blow a gale."
The old man turned slowly around and looked off toward the sloop.
"I'll 'tend to my bizness, if ye'll 'tend to your'n," he curtly replied.
"What did I tell you?" said Judd, as the sloop slowly swung off toward
the fish-pound, now no great distance away. "He'll stay there for his
load, whatever happens. He don't propose to have either Budd or me give
him advice."
Before Mr. Boyd could make any reply there came a sharp cry from Budd,
who was still on the bow of the sloop.
"Quick, Judd, or our trap will be destroyed! There is a porpoise in it,
and he has already noticed our approach."
"We can't save the net!" exclaimed Judd, springing to his feet, and
looking at the huge cetacean that had raised his head above the surface
of the water, and within the inclosure of the seine. "He will go
through it like a shot! Our only hope is to save the fish!"
"Perhaps I can get him," cried Budd, running aft and drawing the yawl
close up to the sloop.
The next moment he had leaped into it, and casting off the painter, he
sculled rapidly toward the pound.
As he reached the upper side of the trap, the porpoise made a quick
lunge against the opposite side; but the stout netting and firmly-driven
stakes withstood its effort to break through. Seeing his opportunity,
Budd pulled in his oar and caught up an old harpoon that lay in the
bottom of the yawl, and which was kept there to be used upon the sharks
that frequently entered the traps.
It was but the work of a moment to fasten the weapon to the bow-line of
the yawl, and then Budd threw it with all his strength at the struggling
monster. The sharp point struck the porpoise near the center of its
back, and penetrated through the thick hide to the depth of several
inches.
"Hurrah! I've got him!" shouted Budd, seizing hold of the bow-line and
beginning to haul it in.
Scarcely were the words out of his mouth when the rope was jerked from
his hand with a force that sent him over backward in the yawl. Then he
heard a crash, and a moment after felt the boat moving through the water
a terrific rate of speed.
Crawling up onto his knees and grasping hold of the sides of the yawl,
he looked about him. The cetacean had cleared itself from the trap and
was going down the bay with the boat in tow. Already the sloop was
several rods in the rear, and Judd was shouting to Budd to cut the rope
that fastened the yawl to the harpoon, so firmly imbedded in the
porpoise's back.
[Illustration: Grasping hold of the sides of the yawl Budd saw that the
porpoise was going down the bay at a terrific rate of speed, with the
boat in tow.]
Holding on to the yawl with one hand, Budd took his jack-knife from his
pocket with the other and opened it with his teeth. He then crept along
to the bow of the boat and raised his hand to sever the line. That
moment there was a movement on the part of his singular steed that led
him to change his mind. The cetacean turned and ran obliquely for the
shore, and hoping to yet secure the monster, Budd refrained from cutting
the rope.
"Look out for the net, first, then come on and pick me up," he shouted
back to Judd. "I'll cut the line at the first show of danger."
The wind evidently carried his words back to his companions with
sufficient distinctness to be comprehended, for they at once returned to
the pound, beyond which they had already passed in pursuing the fleeing
yawl, and Budd was left to continue his wild ride unattended.
To state the exact truth, the lad was immensely enjoying the peculiar
situation in which he found himself. As long as the porpoise kept at
the surface of the water he knew he was safe, and he watched its
movements sharply, so as to cut the bow-line the moment he dived.
But no such movement was to be detected. As though stricken with panic,
and bent on suicide, the cetacean fled onward until opposite the huge
cliff on the west shore of the bay known as Thurston's Rocks, and then
it turned and ran directly inshore.
"It is sure death to go in there," muttered Budd at this movement of his
steed, "and I don't propose to go on to that cliff with you."
With knife raised he waited until the porpoise was within a few rods of
the shore; then with a quick stroke he severed the rope, and dropping
the knife, seized his oars. By a vigorous use of these he staid the
impetus of the yawl and turned its bow into the wind. Before he had
accomplished this, however, the cetacean had dashed headlong upon the
cliff, and now tossed helplessly upon the surface of the water.
For a few minutes Budd held the yawl in check, and watched his huge
victim. He did not dare go nearer to the cliff, for he knew the waves
were dashing upon it with a force that would crush the boat as though
but a cockle-shell, and yet he longed to secure his prey.
He ran his eyes along the rocks. Just beyond the place where the
porpoise lay was a shelving ledge, upon which he knew he could get if
once on shore, and from the ledge he believed he could reach the rope
that was fastened to the cetacean. But where could he land?
Above him, a dozen rods or so, was the old tumbled-down wharf of the
long-disused "North Ferry." Rowing slowly up toward this, he was able
to bring in the yawl against the north, and hence the sheltered, side.
Securing the boat against any possible escape, he ran quickly down the
shore. Once opposite the shelving rock, he with difficulty descended to
the water's edge, and regardless of wet feet and wet arms soon caught
hold of the rope which the dashing waves brought within his reach. He
found also, to his delight, that the rope was long enough to be carried
around the trunk of a red cedar that grew out of a crevice in the cliff
just above high-water mark.
Having securely fastened the line, Budd stood on the ledge a few
minutes, watching the motionless porpoise. The rising tide lifted it
upon the ledge quite near him, and the rope slackened somewhat as it was
relieved of the cetacean's weight.
"I'll take another half-hitch around the harpoon, and drive that deeper
into the porpoise; then he can't get away, and we'll come and get him
after the storm is over," Budd thought.
Carrying out his thought, he made the half-hitch about the harpoon with
the slackened rope; then he seized hold of the protruding weapon and
pressed it down into the motionless body of the cetacean with all his
strength.
The next moment the monster, which had apparently only been stunned by
its dash upon the cliff, and was now revived by the terrible thrust of
the lance into its vitals, gave a sudden and tremendous plunge, which
snapped the cord by which it was fastened to the cedar as though it was
but tow, and lad and cetacean together rolled off from the rocks into
the angry waters.