Fortunately for Budd, he was thrown by the terrible lunge of the
porpoise more than ten feet out into the dashing waves, and he had the
presence of mind, the moment he rose to the surface of the water, to
strike boldly off shore. In this way he soon placed himself beyond any
fear of being dashed back upon the rocks.
He could see, also, that the sloop had already left the fish-trap and
was bearing down toward him, but was yet a long distance away. He
resolved, therefore, to swim up to the old wharf where he had left the
yawl.
Burdened as he was with his water-soaked clothing, it is doubtful that
he could have done this, short as the distance was, had not both wind
and tide been in his favor. As it was, he only reached the yawl after a
hard struggle, and crawled into it quite out of breath.
When the sloop, from which he had, ever since his sudden and unexpected
bath, been watched with anxiety, came in near the wharf, however, he was
sufficiently recovered to pull slowly off to her.
"Are you hurt, Budd?" Mr. Boyd asked, anxiously, as he helped the lad on
board.
"Oh! no," Budd replied, with a laugh--"a little uncomfortable from my
cold bath and tired with my long swim in the rough sea is all; soon as I
put on dry clothing I shall be all right."
"How came you to fall off of the cliff?" asked Judd, hardly able to
suppress his merriment at the ridiculous figure his chum presented in
his dripping clothing. "We were too far off to see just how it
happened."
"I'll tell you as soon as I have changed these duds for something more
comfortable," replied Budd, good-naturedly, and descending to the cabin,
where he knew there were some old clothes kept for just such an
emergency as that into which his adventure with the porpoise had brought
him.
He was soon, with his father's help, comfortably clad, and back onto the
deck of the sloop. With a good deal of _eclat_ he then related all the
details of his adventure, ending with the wish that he might have
secured the cetacean.
"We can get him, for there he is," said Judd.
While Budd had been telling his story, the sloop had been slowly brought
down opposite the cliff, and, as Judd had declared, the porpoise was
still lying at its base. The thrust that Budd had given it just before
his involuntary bath had evidently been a fatal one, for the water all
about the cetacean was dyed with blood, and though the monster
struggled, it was but feebly.
"How would you get him?" asked Budd, quickly, watching the porpoise in
its dying struggles.
"If your father will look out for the sloop I'll get you to set me
ashore at the wharf," explained Judd. "I'll take a coil of rope and the
boat-hook with me, and I don't believe but what I can in some way fasten
a line on to the fellow and throw the other end off here to you, for as
soon as you have landed me you will want to row back here with the yawl.
After picking up the end of the line you want to carry it on board the
sloop, and then return to the wharf for me. Meantime your father can
run up along the shore with the sloop, towing the porpoise after her,
and when we have got back on board we'll find some way to take the
fellow on to the island with us."
"But is he worth all that trouble?" asked Mr. Boyd.
"Oh, yes," both lads quickly answered. "What oil we shall get out of
him will more than pay for our trouble and the damage he has done to the
fish-trap."
Judd's plan was therefore carried out in every important detail. The
lad succeeded in hooking up the piece of rope still remaining on the
harpoon, and to this spliced one end of the coil he had carried with
him. He then threw the balance of the rope off to his waiting partner,
and the work of attaching it to the stern of the sloop was speedily
done.
Then, when back on the sloop, Judd skillfully passed a stout rope
through the strong jaws of the cetacean, and brought him close up under
the stern of the vessel and alongside of the yawl; then, with both in
tow, the Sea Witch rapidly filled away for the opposite side of the bay.
The wind had already increased to such violence that before the passage
across was fully made it was found necessary to take a large reef in the
mainsail of the sloop; and the waves were rolling so high that, but for
the fact that the fish-trap was directly under the lee of Canonicut
Island, it could not have been attended to.
Indeed, Mr. Boyd thought it wiser to remain in the sloop while the lads
drew and reset the net from the yawl, and when their task was finished,
and they had returned to the Sea Witch, he remarked:
"You told me I would see all the rough weather I cared to before our
return home, Judd, and I freely confess you were right. I shall be glad
when we reach the island."
"That will be in a very short time, now," responded Judd, as he assisted
his chum in getting the sloop ready for her home trip. "We shan't have
to carry anything but our jib, either."
The speed with which the sloop darted off before the heavy wind
warranted his assertion. Their course led them near enough to Plum
Beach Point for them to see that Mr. Benton had filled his flatboat with
sand, and was now trying to work the craft off around the point.
He had one of his huge sweeps braced against the side of the boat, and
thus pushed it off shore, while he, step by step, worked it along toward
the extreme end of the sandy beach. His object was clear. If he could
only get the craft around the point, it was evidently his intention to
embark upon it and attempt to run up the bay.
The rapidity with which the Sea Witch was running soon carried her
occupants out of sight of the man and brought them near their island
home. Fortunately their wharf was at the northwest end of the island,
and thus in a measure sheltered from the high sea, if not from the sweep
of the wind, and they made their landing in safety.
The sloop was moored in the most sheltered nook the island afforded, the
fish, porpoise and yawl were brought on shore, and all was in readiness
for the trio to seek the shelter of the house. Bracing themselves
against the strong, piercing wind, they started along the path that led
to their dwelling, when a sudden call from Judd, who was in the rear,
caused his companions to stop.
"Look!" the lad exclaimed; "Benton has actually got his boat around the
point, and is now driving helplessly before the gale!"
Budd and his father looked off in the direction that Judd had indicated,
and saw that his declaration was only too true. A mile or so away was
the flatboat, sunk nearly to her gunwales in the water, while her one
sail flapped loosely in the wind. Mr. Benton was making no attempt to
guide the craft, but stood near the swaying mast, clutching it,
evidently in sheer desperation. One look told the horrified spectators
what had happened. The boat had sprung a leak, and was settling beneath
the angry waves.
Mr. Boyd and the lads watched anxiously the boat's progress. A few
minutes later it had arrived near enough for them to distinguish Mr.
Benton's face, as he clung, pale and terrified, to the slender mast.
Certainly he now realized the danger he was in, and knew that he was
powerless to avert it.
Three minutes more and the boat would reach the island, for which it was
directly coming. Would it keep afloat so long? No! for at that instant
a powerful gust of wind swept down upon it, causing it to tremble from
stem to stern. For a moment the ill-fated craft seemed to try to shake
off the blow, and then, as a tremendous wave dashed over it, it
careened, struggled to right itself, then sunk beneath the dashing
waves.
Through the heavy rain that now began to fall, the anxious watchers
looked for the unfortunate man, and they soon discovered him battling
with the angry sea. Another moment and Budd had sprung into the yawl
that was moored at the wharf, and before he could be prevented had
seized the oars and was pulling off toward the struggling man.
The wind was against him, and the boat was tossed like a bit of cork
upon the waves; still he slowly approached the spot where he had last
seen his old employer. It was evidently a hard struggle, but with bare
head and resolute face the heroic lad pulled on. At length he reached
Mr. Benton, and with great difficulty drew him into the little boat.
The wind lulled for an instant, and, laying his exhausted companion down
in the yawl, Budd took advantage of the circumstance and turned the
tossing boat for the island.
Half the distance, under his vigorous stroke, was gained, when the wind
swept down in greater fury upon him. It is seldom such a gust of wind
is experienced in northern latitudes. Trees were overturned, the water
was dashed high in the air, and even houses were unroofed by that
terrible blast.
When it had passed, Mr. Boyd and Judd arose from the ground to which
they had fallen and looked for the yawl. It lay capsized a few rods
away, while Budd, with one arm supporting the unconscious form of Mr.
Benton, was struggling to reach the shore. But his strength soon
failed, and the huge waves rolled within the reach of the waiting man
and boy--for both had rushed into the angry waters--two unconscious
forms.
As soon as possible, first Budd, and then Mr. Benton, was carried into
the house, and with haste their wet clothing was removed, and their cold
limbs chafed until the returning warmth told that their sluggish blood
was again in circulation, and their lives were spared.
Then a fire was built, blankets warmed, and coffee made. Wrapped up in
one, and thoroughly dosed with the other, the man and boy were then put
in bed, and were soon quietly sleeping.
It was night when Mr. Benton aroused and found Judd sitting by his
bedside.
"How came I here?" he asked.
"Well, I suppose the chief reason you are here," replied Judd, bluntly,
"is because Budd, at the risk of his own life, went off in the yawl
after you;" and he then briefly told the story of the man's rescue.
"Budd is all right, then?" the man asked, with some show of feeling.
"Yes, his father is with him; and when I was in there, a short time ago,
he was sleeping nicely," answered Judd, shortly.
Mr. Benton said no more, and after taking the food and warm drink Judd
brought him, he soon went to sleep again.
It was morning when he awoke and found his clothes nicely dried by his
bedside. Dressing himself, he went out to the kitchen, where he found
Mr. Boyd and the two lads. Budd, with the exception of a little
paleness, seemed quite like himself.
Mr. Benton made no allusion to his rescue whatever, and the inmates of
the house did not speak of it. After breakfast, however, the man turned
to Judd and asked if he could be set ashore.
"Not while it storms so," replied Judd, in surprise. "A small boat
couldn't live in this sea, and even with the sloop there would be a
grave risk. You will have to wait until the storm is over, Mr. Benton."
The man made no reply, but Budd asked:
"Did the yawl come ashore all right?"
"It was stove up a little before I could get out and attend to it,"
replied Judd; "but we can fix it easily as soon as the weather will
permit."
There was no cessation of the storm until night, and on account of the
needful repairs to the yawl, Mr. Benton was obliged to remain on the
island until another morning.
During the whole time he in no way mentioned the great risk Budd had
undergone in his behalf, but just before his departure on the second
morning he remarked:
"I 'spose ye don't hate me no longer, Budd?"
"I have never hated you, Mr. Benton," Budd promptly replied.
"I dunno as ye have," he assented; "ye don't act as though ye did,
anyway, an' I'll be friends, if ye will."
Budd shook the hand which was offered him, and without another word Mr.
Benton took his departure. Knowing the man as he did, the lad was almost
surprised that he should have shown as much feeling as he had; but he
was greatly surprised at what soon followed.
Meeting Mr. Wright a few days later, that gentleman accosted him with
the question:
"I say, Budd, what have you been doing to Mr. Benton?"
"Nothing bad, I hope," responded the boy, with a laugh.
"I guess not, either," said Mr. Wright; "but I tell you I was taken
aback when he came over to my house the other day and actually asked my
forgiveness for whatever wrong he had done me, and promised to be a good
neighbor from this time forward. Little by little I got the whole story
of how you rescued him, and then I knew the cause of the change in him.
I tell you, the day of the impossible hasn't come yet."
And Budd thought so a few days later when he received from Mr. Benton
himself a fine gold watch as a token of gratitude for the noble favor he
had done him.
On one of the inside cases was Budd's name, and the date of his brave
act. The outside cases were plain, with a single exception. The upper
lid was engraved with an olive-leaf--emblematic of the peace that was
now fully assured between the lad and himself.
"Who would have thought the old miser would have been so generous!"
exclaimed Judd, as he looked the watch over.
"Or possessed so much poetic sentiment," added Mr. Boyd, laughingly.
"He must have had some good in him, with all his faults, or ho would
never have so quickly changed," said Budd, thoughtfully.
A declaration his companions readily accepted.