ABANDONING THE ISLAND.
After luncheon the three boys went over to inspect their old boat, and
came back towards evening, bringing the oars, some straps of iron that
had guarded her keel, the drag-ropes, and one or two other things.
They had succeeded in pulling the boat ashore, but she had been too
badly damaged to be of any further use to them.
Three days were now occupied busily in shooting, fishing, and putting
runners on the scow. These runners were simply strips of board (which
they had taken from the house) about four inches wide and fourteen
feet long--the length of the boat's bottom. With the iron from the
sled runners and from their own boat they shod these boat runners
rudely, and strengthened the frame.
During this time the dogs had been almost always within sight, and
their near approach during the night would frequently awaken the
sleepers in the cabin, Rex quickest, of course. Katy was sure that if
the animals could have been fed they would speedily have become
docile; and when Tug proposed to shoot them for food, everybody
resisted, at least, until they should be in a worse strait than now.
Nevertheless it was probably fortunate for the mastiff family that it
kept out of gun-range.
The next and last day of their stay on the island was very cold, and a
heavy wind brought hosts of birds, so that they captured twenty
snow-flakes, and shot over thirty cross-bills, red-polls, and other
small fry, which were placed on the roof as fast as obtained, where
they froze solid, and thus kept fresh. This made Katy the most happy
of all, for she alone knew that everything was gone except about two
messes of coffee and one potful of corn-meal mush.
"Now, if only we could catch a big fish, we should be fixed grandly,"
said Jim, as he went out to look at and bring home the lines. When he
came back, however, he wore the long face and empty hands of
disappointment, but left one line in hope of taking something during
the night.
At sunset the gale went down, the stars glistened like gems, and the
frost showed no signs of ceasing. By the light of a great fire of
drift-wood on the beach the little scow was partly loaded, and then
all hands went for the last time to their mattresses of hemlock
boughs. What was ahead they had little notion, but they were now used
to peril, and eager to begin their journey, not only because each one
felt that he could scarcely be worse off, but from the excitement of
commencing new adventures.
[Illustration: REPAIRING THE OLD SCOW.]
The morning of departure dawned clear and cold, continuing the
promises of good weather.
Jim's early visit to his set-line next morning yielded him one small
pickerel, while the traps gave a solitary snow-bird. These, with some
other feathered mites, Katy cooked, while Aleck and Tug finished the
packing. It was not a bad breakfast, you may think, for shipwrecked
persons, but try it once for yourself--fish fried in bacon grease,
some fragments of stewed snow-bird, and weak coffee. No bread, no
butter, no potatoes, no green relish, no hot cakes, no anything except
pickerel and weak coffee. But they thought it the best meal they had
had on the island; and after a hasty washing and stowing of dishes
they buckled on their skates, took their familiar places at the
drag-ropes, and with a cheer started southward, steering by the
compass.
Their old enemies came dashing down the hillside as the expedition
took up its march, and stood upon the beach, seeming greatly
astonished at the departure of the people at the cottage. Rex barked
an angry farewell, which caused them to race out upon the ice as
though to punish him for his impertinence; but they stopped short of
bullet-range, greatly to Tug's disgust, and presently turned and
trotted back to resume their wild career. When last seen they were
prowling about the deserted house, trying to push their way into the
door, or to break through the glass of the little window. I have no
doubt they succeeded; and I hope that they managed to exist until the
fishermen came the next summer and took them off, for, after all,
these dogs knew no different way of acting, and therefore could not be
blamed for their savagery, even though it was needful that our heroes
should guard against it.
The ice was in good condition, and the skaters made fair progress, so
that by noon the dusky line of the mainland was plainly visible ahead.
At last Jim called out that he couldn't skate another stroke, and
threw himself down, utterly "done for." Aleck ordered a halt at once,
and began to build a small fire--for fuel had not been forgotten.
Nobody understood how fatigued they had become by the unwonted
exercise in their weak condition, until they found that an hour's halt
seemed of little account, and decided to make it two. After that they
went on slowly and lamely until near sundown, by which time the island
had almost disappeared, and the mainland was growing distinct. Then
they camped, stewing snow-birds for supper, and making a big corn-meal
cake, which they baked in the skillet. Immediately afterwards beds
were made up on the cargo, underneath the canvas, and each one slept
as well as he could.
The next day several hummocks stood in the way, and just about noon
they came to a channel of open water about a mile wide. It was not
rough, and they slid their boat over the edge of the ice into the
water without any difficulty.
"If we had only known enough to have made us a good boat of this shape
before starting, we should have got along much better," Aleck told
them, and they all agreed with him, talking it over while they picked
a few lean, and very cool bird-bones for luncheon before beginning the
ferriage.
The load sank the weak scow so deeply that the water ran into cracks
in her side, despite their calking; and as they were afraid to embark
the whole expedition, two trips were made. This was slow and freezing
work; and when finally all had got across, and had skated on about a
mile, everybody was so cold and tired and sore that a camp was made
under the shelter of a tall hummock. Aleck comforted the pride of the
younger ones, who worried over their exhaustion, by telling them it
was because they were so nearly starved; but this was poor
consolation, they thought, so long as there seemed no chance for any
increase in their supplies, or means of regaining their strength.
"Now," he remarked, "see what we have for supper to-night--two
snow-birds and a small piece of corn-bread apiece. That would not make
a full meal for one of us. If any accident prevents our getting ashore
to-morrow I don't know what we shall do, for we have only enough food
for breakfast, and a 'powerful weak' one at that!"
"That's hardest on me," said Tug, "for breakfast is my strong point.
If I can have only one meal a day, I want to take it in the morning."
"That'll be your fix to-morrow, I guess," was the gloomy rejoinder.
* * * * *
The next day's run was a slow one, for the ice was bad in many
places, and several hummocks had to be explored to find passable
crossing-places. They could sight islands off at their left, but the
nearest was several miles away; and though they knew they belonged to
the Put-in-Bay group, they did not think it would pay to swerve from
their course so long as the ice permitted them to advance towards the
mainland. So they kept on, and the shore came nearer and nearer, until
they could see that they were entering a great "bight," and that one
mass of land, three or four miles towards the left, which they had
taken for an island, was really a headland; so they shaped their
course for it.
Near the beach stood a little house surrounded by small fields and
hemmed in by the leafless woods. Towards this cottage they made their
way, and its owner evidently saw them coming, for a grizzled old man,
helping himself with a cane, hobbled down to meet them as they
approached the beach.