A FOREST SHIP YARD.
Day light had no sooner shown itself the next morning than Sam started
away from the camp on a tour of observation. He was a fine looking
fellow as he strode through the woods, straight as an arrow, broad
shouldered, brawny, with legs that seemed all the more shapely for
being clothed in closely fitting trowsers that were thrust into his
long boot legs. Two of his companions watched him walk away in the
early light.
"What a splendid fellow he is, outside and inside!" said Bob Sharp,
half to himself and half to Jake Elliott, who stood by the fire. Jake
said nothing and Bob was left to guess for himself what impression
their stalwart young leader had made upon that moody youth. Meantime
Sam had disappeared in the forest. He walked on for a little way when
he came to a creek, a small one ordinarily, scarcely more than a
crooked brook, but swollen now to considerable size.
"This may do," he said to himself. "At all events it leads to the
river, and I may as well explore it as I go."
Accordingly he followed the stream. Mile after mile he walked, through
bottom lands that were well nigh impassable now, never losing sight of
the creek until he reached its point of junction with the river. It
was still raining, but Sam persisted in the work of exploration until
he knew the country thoroughly which lay between his camp and the
river. Then he returned, not weary with his four hours' walking, but
very decidedly hungry.
Luckily, Bob Sharp's enthusiastic admiration for his leader had taken
a very prosaic and practical turn. It was Bob's turn to prepare
breakfast, and a hare was to be cooked. The boys wanted it cut up and
fried, but Bob remained firm.
"No, siree," he said, "Captain Sam's gone off to look out for us,
without waiting for his breakfast, and when he comes back he's to
have roast rabbit for breakfast, and his pick of the pieces at that.
If any of you boys want fried victuals you may go and kill your own
rabbits and fry them for yourselves, or you may cook your bacon. I
killed this game myself, and nobody shall eat a mouthful of it till
Captain Sam carves it."
The boys were hungry, but they agreed with Bob, when he thus
peremptorily suggested the propriety of awaiting their young leader's
return, and so when Sam got back, about ten o'clock, he found a hungry
company and a beautifully roasted hare awaiting him, the latter
hanging by a string to a branch of an over-hanging tree immediately in
front of the fire.
After remonstrating with the boys in a good natured way, for delaying
their breakfast so long, Sam carved, as Bob had put it; that is to say
he held the hare by a hind leg, while another boy held it by a fore
leg, and with their jack knives they quickly divided it into pieces,
using the skillet for a platter.
The boys were not so hungry that they could forget their curiosity as
to the result of Sam's exploration.
"Where are we, Sam?"
"Did you find the river?"
"Is it close by?"
These and half a dozen similar questions were asked in rapid
succession.
"One thing at a time," said Sam, "or, better still, listen and I'll
tell you all about it without waiting to be questioned."
"All right, any way to get the news out of you," said Billy Bowlegs.
"Well then," said Sam, "to begin with, we're not very near the river.
It's about five miles away, as nearly as I can judge."
Billy Bowlegs's countenance fell.
"Then we can't make the canoe here after all our work to build a
house."
"I didn't say that, Billy. On the contrary, I think we must make it
here, as there is no fit place for a camp nearer the river than this.
Beside, the river will be out of its banks pretty soon if the rain
continues, and will overflow all the low grounds."
"Then we've got to carry the canoe five miles! We can't do it, that's
all," said Jake Elliott, who had not spoken before.
Sam looked at Jake rather sternly, and was about to make him a sharp
answer, but changed his mind and said instead:--
"You and Billy are in too big a hurry to draw conclusions, Jake. Billy
begins by assuming that because the river is five miles away we can't
make the canoe here, and you jump to the conclusion that if we make it
here we must carry it five miles. The fact is, you're both wrong. We
can make it here, and we needn't carry it five miles, or one mile, or
half a mile."
"How's that?" asked Tom.
"Now _you're_ in a hurry, are you Tom? I was just about to explain and
only stopped to swallow, but before I could do it you pushed a
question in between my teeth."
"SILENCE!" roared Billy Bowlegs, "the court cannot be heard." Billy's
father was sheriff of his county, and Billy had often heard him make
more noise in commanding silence in the court room than the room full
of people were making by requiring the caution.
Silence succeeding the laughter which Billy's unfilial mimicry had
provoked, Sam resumed his explanation.
"There's a creek down there about a hundred yards, which runs into the
river. It is a small affair, but is pretty well up now, and my plan is
to make the canoe here and paddle her down the creek to the river
while the water is high."
"Hurrah! now for work!" shouted the boys, who by this time had
finished their breakfast.
"Where's your timber, Sam?" asked Tom, bringing in the axes and adze
out of the tent.
Sam had taken pains to select a proper tree for his purpose, a
gigantic poplar more than three feet in diameter, which lay near the
creek, where it had fallen several years before.
When the boys saw it, they looked at Sam in astonishment.
"Why, Sam, you don't mean to work that great big thing into a dug-out,
do you?" asked Sid Russell.
"Why not, Sid?" asked Sam.
"Why, its bigger'n a dozen dug-outs."
"Yes, that is true, but we're not going to make an ordinary canoe.
We're going to cut out something as nearly like a yawl, or a ship's
launch as possible. She is to be sixteen feet long, and three and a
quarter feet wide amidships."
Sam had learned a good deal about boats during his boyhood in
Baltimore.
"Whew! what do you want such a whopper for?"
"Well, in the first place such a boat will be of use to us down at
Pensacola, where we couldn't use an ordinary canoe at all. You see I'm
going to shape her like a sea boat, partly by cutting away, and partly
by pinning a keel to her."
"What'll you pin it on with?" asked Tom.
"With pins, of course; wooden ones."
"What'll you bore the holes with?"
"With my bit of iron, heated red hot."
"That's so. So you can."
"But, Sam," said Sid.
"Well?"
"You said that was in the first place; what's the next?"
"In the next place, we'll need such a boat in running down the
river."
"Why?"
"Because there'll be no fit camping places in the low grounds, even if
the water isn't over the banks, and so we must stay in the boat night
and day, which would be rather an uncomfortable thing to do in a
little round bottomed dug-out, that would turn over if a fellow
nodded. Beside that I'm anxious to make all the time I can and when we
leave here I mean to push ahead night and day without stopping."
"How'll we manage without eatin' or sleepin'?" asked Jake Elliott, who
seemed somehow to be interested chiefly in discovering what appeared
to him to be insurmountable obstacles in the way of the execution of
Sam's plans.
"I have no thought," answered Sam, "of trying to do without either
eating or sleeping."
"Where'll we eat," asked Jake, "ef we don't stop nowhere?"
"In the boat, of course."
"Yes, but where'll we cook?"
"Here," answered Sam.
"Before we start?"
"Yes, certainly. We'll kill some game, cook it at night and eat it
cold on the way with cold bread. That will save our bacon to cook fish
with down at Pensacola."
"Well, but how about sleeping?"
"That is one of my reasons for making so large a boat. We can sleep in
her very comfortably, one staying awake to steer and paddle, all of us
taking turns at it."
This plan was eagerly welcomed by the boys, who speedily fell to work
upon the log under Sam's direction. The poplar was very easily worked,
and the boys were all of them skilled in the use of the axes.
Relieving each other at the work, they did not permit it to cease for
a moment, and in half an hour the trunk of the tree was severed in two
places, giving them a log of the desired length to work on.
Then began the work of hewing it into shape, and this admitted of four
boys working at once, two with the axes, one with the adze and one
with the hatchet. When night came the log had already assumed the
shape of a rude boat, turned bottom up, and Sam was more than
satisfied with the progress made. His comrades were enthusiastic,
however, and insisted upon building a bonfire and working for an hour
or two by its light, after supper. They could not work at shaping it
by such a light, but they turned it over and hewed the side which was
to be dug out, down to a level with its future gunwales. The next day
they began work early, and when they quitted it at night their task
was done. The boat was a rude affair but reasonably well shaped,
broad, so that she drew very little water considering her weight, and
with a keel which kept her perfectly steady in the water.