PERK TAKES A BATH.
As soon as they had left the clearing, Walter, who led the way and acted
as commander of the expedition, changed his course, and instead of going
directly toward the bayou, held his way through the woods parallel with
the stream, and about a mile distant from it. He was afraid that if he
and his companions followed the bank of the bayou they might stumble upon
Coulte before they knew it, and he hoped by this course to avoid meeting
him altogether. Their object was to get ahead of him, and reach the mouth
of the bayou first, and that, too, without giving the old Frenchman any
reason to believe that he was pursued. If the latter knew that there was
some one on his trail, he might remain in the swamp, or try to reach the
Gulf by some other route; in which case they would lose the opportunity
of rescuing Chase.
For the next ten miles the boys rode at a full gallop, and never once
drew rein until they arrived on the bank of the bayou about a mile above
its mouth. This was the narrowest part of the stream, and they had
selected it as the best point at which to intercept the pirogue; but,
to their great delight, they found that the wind had anticipated their
designs, and that it would not be necessary to use their axe at all. A
large poplar, which leaned over the bayou, having been uprooted, had
fallen into the water, the top resting near one shore and the butt on the
other. If they had felled the tree themselves they could not have placed
it in a better position for blockading the bayou. It lay so close to the
surface of the water that the smallest canoe could not go under it, and
was so high that a vessel of the size of the pirogue could not be easily
dragged over it. The only way that Coulte could pass would be to take the
pirogue ashore and carry it around the obstruction; but that was a thing
that Walter and his friends did not intend to allow him to do. He _did_
do it, however, and not one of the Club made the least effort to prevent
him.
The boys dismounted near the tree, and Perk, after hitching his horse,
sprang upon it and walked out over the water to see if he could discover
any signs of the pirogue. It was already dark—so dark that he was
obliged to exercise considerable caution in moving along the log. The
trees threw a deep shade into the water on each side of the bayou; but
there was a bright streak in the middle, extending up and down the
stream as far as his eyes could reach, and Perk was certain that he
saw something in it. He listened, and distinctly heard a rushing sound
such as a boat makes when passing rapidly through the water. He was all
excitement in a moment.
“Keep close there, fellows,” he whispered, addressing himself to his
companions on the bank. “We’re just in time. They’re coming as sure as
the world. And like a steamboat, too,” he added, mentally. “I hope they
will strike the tree and smash their old pirogue into kindling-wood.”
Perk being afraid to return to the bank lest he should be discovered by
the men in the pirogue, stretched himself out at full length on the log
and kept his eyes fastened on the approaching vessel. In a few seconds
she began to loom up more distinctly through the darkness, and Perk was
astonished at the amount of canvas she carried and the manner in which
she was handled. Her huge sail extended up into the air until it seemed
to reach above the tops of the trees, and, although Pierre and Coulte
had seated themselves as far back in the stern-sheets as they could get,
her bow, instead of riding gracefully over the waves, was forced down
into them by every gust of wind that filled the canvas. It was plain that
Coulte and his son were in a great hurry, and that they thought more of
speed than they did of their own comfort or the safety of the vessel.
“They’ve more faith in that old tub than I would have if I was in her,”
soliloquized Perk. “If she labors so badly here in the bayou, where the
water is comparatively smooth, and the wind hasn’t half a chance at her,
what would she do if she was out in the Gulf? But she’ll never get out
there. She’s going to smash herself into a million pieces.”
The boys on the bank, who had by this time discovered the pirogue,
thought so, too. She continued to approach the log at almost railroad
speed, and Perk held his breath in suspense, and even clasped his arms
around the tree as if he feared that the concussion might knock him off
into the water; but Pierre, who handled the helm, was on the watch, and
when the pirogue had arrived within ten feet of the obstruction, he
discovered the danger and with one sweep of his arm escaped it.
“Whew!” whistled Coulte, clenching his teeth tightly on the stem of his
never-failing pipe, and holding fast to the stern-sheets with both hands;
“somedings wrong again!”
“Yes, of course there is,” replied Pierre. “Haven’t things been going
wrong with us ever since we began to meddle with this business? Here’s
a log extending clear across the bayou, and I came within an inch of
running into it. We’ll have to go ashore and pull the boat around it.”
While this conversation was going on the pirogue, which had been thrown
up into the wind, was drifting down the stream broadside on, and now
brought up against the log directly in front of the place where Perk lay.
Coulte and his son both saw him there, but did not take a second look at
him, supposing him to be a huge knot on the body of the tree. While Perk
was waiting to be discovered, and expecting it every moment, a brilliant
idea occurred to him. He looked over into the pirogue, which was bobbing
up and down with the waves scarcely two feet from him, and just then a
figure, which was stretched out in the stern of the boat, raised itself
to a sitting posture and said, in a frightened voice:
“I hope there is no danger. Remember that I am tied hand and foot, and
that if we are capsized I can’t swim a stroke.”
“Lie down, and hold your tongue,” replied Pierre, savagely. “Small loss
it will be to us or anybody else, if you do go to the bottom!”
In obedience to Pierre’s order Chase—for it was he who spoke—tried to
lie down again, and was a good deal astonished to find that he could not
do it. A pair of arms were suddenly thrust out of the darkness, strong
fingers fastened into his collar, and in a twinkling Chase found himself
lifted bodily out of the pirogue and thrown across the log. He looked up
and saw a dark form kneeling beside him, which quickly jumped to its feet
and catching him up in its arms, started with him toward the bank. It was
Perk, who highly elated with the exploit he had performed, called out to
his companions on shore:
“Now just listen to me a moment, and I’ll tell you what’s a fact: I’ve
got him.”
It was so dark that Walter and his friends could not see what was going
on at the middle of the bayou. They were at a loss to determine whether
Perk had got hold of Chase, or Coulte, or Pierre; but knowing by the
tones of his voice that he was highly excited over something, they sprang
upon the log and ran toward him. “Hold fast to him, whoever he is,” cried
Walter. “We’re coming.”
“I’ll do it,” replied Perk. “I’ve got him, as sure as I am an inch high.”
“Have you?” exclaimed a gruff voice. “Then bring him back here and give
him to me.”
There was a shuffling of feet and other indications of a brief struggle
on the log, and angry exclamations from Perk, two or three savage
blows that were plainly heard by the boys on the bank, and then a loud
splashing in the water, followed by a hoarse, gurgling sound, as if some
one was gasping for breath. The boys stood transfixed with horror, fully
aware that a desperate fight was going on before them in the darkness,
but not knowing which way to turn or what to do to assist their friend.
The rapidity with which this state of affairs had been brought about
utterly bewildered them, and for a moment they stood speechless and
motionless.
“Don’t desert me, Perk,” cried Chase, his voice coming from the water. “I
am helpless.”
“Never fear,” was Perk’s encouraging reply. “It isn’t my style to desert
a fellow when he’s in trouble. Let go his collar, Coulte, or I’ll pull
you overboard.”
“Whew! Whew! Everydings is going wrong again,” exclaimed the old
Frenchman; and the boys knew from the tones of his voice and the manner
in which he spoke that he was struggling desperately with some one. “Ah!
oui! everydings. Leave go, Meester Perkins.”
“Now just listen to me a moment and I’ll tell you what is a fact: let go
yourself, or come out of that boat.”
“Take that! and that!” shouted Pierre; and then came the sound of heavy
blows on the water and a cry of distress from Perk.
All these things happened in much less time than we have taken to
describe them. It was probably not more than half a minute from the time
that Perk lifted Chase out of the boat until the fight was over, but
during that time his triumph had been turned into utter defeat. When
Walter and his friends reached the middle of the log the pirogue had
disappeared, and there was no one in sight.
Perk had begun to exult over his victory a little too soon. His plan
for releasing Chase was a bold one, and the suddenness with which it
was carried into execution struck both Pierre and his father dumb with
astonishment. They saw the object, which they imagined to be a knot on
the tree, spring into life and action, seize their prisoner by his collar
and pull him out of the boat, and they never made a move to prevent it.
It was not until they heard the sound of Perk’s voice and saw him jump
to his feet and run along the log toward the bank, that they seemed to
realize what was going on. Then Pierre aroused himself, and after a short
fight, during which he received one or two blows from the boy’s hard
fist that made him see stars, succeeded in catching him by the ankle and
pulling him off the log.
Perk’s sudden immersion in the cold water almost took his breath away,
and made him feel for a moment as if every drop of blood in his body had
been turned into ice; still he retained his presence of mind and all his
courage, and as soon as he arose to the surface, he caught the helpless
Chase by the collar, and lifting his head above the water struck out
for shore. But Coulte had by this time recovered himself, and he, too,
seized Chase and held fast to him. Both boys struggled hard to break
his hold, but finding that the old Frenchman hung on like grim death,
Perk laid hold of his hair and exerted all his strength to drag him
overboard—an undertaking that he would have quickly accomplished had not
Pierre snatched up an oar and struck him a severe blow with it. That did
the business for Perk. With a cry of pain he released his hold of Chase’s
collar, and, as he sank slowly out of sight in the water, Coulte pulled
his prisoner into the boat, while Pierre seized the helm and pulled away
for the opposite side of the bayou.
“Where are you, Perk?” shouted Walter, running up and down the log, and
looking in vain for his friend. “Sing out.”
“What’s that?” exclaimed Wilson, pointing to a dark object which just at
that moment arose from under the log, and floated slowly down the stream.
“It’s a head!” cried Bab, with blanched cheeks.
“And Perk’s head, too!” gasped Eugene. “I would know that long black hair
of his anywhere.”
Fortunately, Walter was not in the least excited or dismayed; if he had
been, Perk might have drifted on down the stream, and sunk for good
before any effort was made to assist him. While the others stood with
their necks outstretched, their mouths wide open, and their eyes almost
starting from their sockets, staring hard at the object in the water, and
wondering if it was really a human head, or only a piece of driftwood,
Walter had hurriedly divested himself of both his coats, kicked off his
boots, and taken a header from the log. The object was still bobbing
about in the waves, and floating slowly down the stream, and a few swift
strokes brought Walter close up to it. It was Perk’s head, sure enough.
The brave young fellow was struggling feebly, but with a very poor
prospect of extricating himself from his dangerous situation, for the
blow that Pierre dealt him had taken away all his strength, and his heavy
clothing, which hung upon him like so many pounds of iron, weighed him
down in the water until nothing but the top of his head could be seen
above the surface.
Walter was quick in his movements, knowing that there was not an instant
to be lost, but cautious also. Having learned by experience that it
is a dangerous piece of business to trust one’s self within reach of
a drowning person, he swam up behind his friend, and, watching his
opportunity, seized him by the back of the neck, lifted his head above
the water, and held him off at arm’s length. Perk kicked and thrashed
about wonderfully, beating the water into foam, making blind clutches
at the empty air, and trying hard to turn about, so that he could take
hold of Walter; but the latter held his arm as stiff as an iron bar, and
having secured a firm hold of Perk’s long hair, he compelled the latter
to keep his back toward him, and held him in that position while he
carried him toward the shore.
In the mean time the old Frenchman and his son were not idle. Taking
advantage of the confusion that prevailed among the Club, they filled
away for the shore, took down the sail, dragged the boat around the
obstruction, launched it again on the other side, and resumed their
voyage toward the Gulf—Pierre expressing great astonishment at the whole
transaction, and swearing lustily at the delay that had been occasioned,
and at the wind which continued to increase in fury as night came on;
Coulte wondering at the recklessness Perk had displayed in attacking them
single-handed, and feeling his head, which still ached from the effects
of the strong pulls the boy had given at his hair; and Chase, encouraging
himself one moment with the hope of a speedy rescue, and the next
holding his breath in dismay, when he thought of the dangers yet to be
encountered.
Poor Chase was in a miserable condition. His hands and feet were still
bound, his clothes were dripping with water that was almost cold enough
to freeze, and he was exposed to the full force of the wind, every gust
of which seemed to cut him to the bone. But, after all, he did not mind
this so much as he did the voyage into the Gulf, which, unless something
happened to prevent it, would be commenced in less than ten minutes.
Suppose the boat should go down, what chance had he for his life? He
tried to induce his captors to release him, assuring them that there was
no possible chance for him to escape now that they were so far from the
shore; but not only did they refuse to grant his request, but they would
not even permit him to see what was going on around him. As soon as the
pirogue was once more fairly under way, Coulte forced him to lie down on
the bottom of the boat, and threw a blanket over his head. This, in some
measure, protected him from the wind and the spray, but he would much
rather have been exposed to the full fury of the gale, if he had only
been allowed the free use of his eyes. To be blindfolded, so that he
could not see when danger approached, was positive torture to him.
The journey to the island was by this time fairly begun, and it continued
four long hours. The wind blew even harder on the Gulf than Chase had
imagined, the waves rolled higher, and the voyage was quite as perilous
as he had expected it would be. Nothing but the greatest skill and the
most watchful care on Pierre’s part, kept the pirogue right-side up. He
had his hands full in minding the helm, and Coulte had as much as he
could do to bail out the water as fast as it came in. It began to gain
at last, and Chase was glad of it, for it was the means of securing his
release.
“Whew! I don’t can shtand dis no longer,” panted the old Frenchman,
after he had used his bucket until every bone in his old body ached with
fatigue. “Meester Shase must help, or we goes to ze bottom.”
“Untie him then,” growled his son. “I guess there’s no danger now that he
will jump overboard and swim ashore.”
The pirogue was rolling and pitching in the most alarming manner, and
Coulte, not having his sea-legs on, found it a matter of some difficulty
to work his way back to the stern where Chase was lying. During the time
that he was employed in freeing the prisoner’s hands and feet, short as
it was, the water gained rapidly; and when Chase sprang up and seized the
bucket, it was almost knee deep in the bottom of the pirogue.
As soon as Chase found himself at liberty his courage all returned.
Having been brought up on board a yacht, like all the rest of the
Bellville boys, he was not very much afraid of a gale, although he could
not help being appalled at the scene that was now presented to his gaze.
The sky was clearing up a little to windward, and there was light enough
for him to see that the water was in a frightful commotion. One moment
the pirogue would be riding on the top of a wave, which to a landsman
would have looked as high as a mountain; the next she would sink down
into an abyss that appeared to be almost bottomless, and the huge billows
would come rolling after her, seemingly on the point of engulfing her
every instant. Chase looked at the waves and then at his captors to see
what they thought about it, and he was satisfied that if they could have
put the boat about without danger of swamping her, and gone back to the
shore, they would have done it gladly. She was now running before the
wind, and consequently was comparatively safe; but an attempt on the part
of her crew to bring her about and to beat back to the main land, would
have resulted in her destruction. She must go on, for she could not turn
back. Pierre and Coulte both knew that as well as Chase did. The old
Frenchman was literally shaking with terror, while Pierre was as white as
a sheet.
When Chase had noted these things, he went to work with his bucket, and
for two hours scarcely paused to take breath. At the end of that time
Pierre began to keep a sharp lookout in front of him, knowing that if
he had not missed his course he ought to be somewhere near the island.
Presently Chase discovered it looming up through the darkness, looking a
thousand-fold more gloomy and uninviting than it had ever before appeared
in his eyes, and then he too began to be uneasy, lest the pirogue
should be dashed upon the beach and broken in pieces by the surf. But
the good fortune that had attended them during the voyage had not yet
deserted them, and in spite of the wind and the waves Pierre succeeded
in piloting the boat between two high points, and running her ashore in
a little cove where she was effectually protected from the fury of the
gale.