ON THE "DAUNTLESS"
Breakfast on the following morning was quite late. Only a series of
wild whoops and yells, which almost scared Sam Bins out of his senses,
had served to awaken Dave Brandon, and he protested vigorously.
"Why can't you let a fellow sleep?" he grumbled. "It's only eleven
hours ago that I tumbled into bed."
"Nine o'clock, nine o'clock!" called Sam, laughingly. "Do you want to
sleep all day?"
"Yes, Sam--you've struck it exactly. Think I will," and Dave tried to
lock the door.
But three sturdy shoulders proved too much, and he capitulated.
A tour of the grounds followed their meal. To the east of Rickham House
was a large, level field, and on reaching it Sam Randall uttered an
exclamation.
"As I live, a regular diamond!" he said. "Crickets, isn't this fine?"
"Well, I should say so," put in Dick.
"Uncle Isaac was always great on baseball," explained Bob. "Played a
good bit himself--centre field, I think. Well, I suppose he managed to
have a game here, once in a while. But, come on, fellows, let's take a
look at the boats."
Right across the road, which followed the course of the lake, and
almost directly opposite the house, was Mr. Barton's private wharf.
Besides several canoes, he owned the sailboats "Speedy" and "Spray."
Both were about twenty feet long, but the former was narrow of beam and
built mainly for the purpose which its name implied.
"What a grand summer we'll have," cried Tom Clifton, enthusiastically,
as he stooped over to examine the trim-looking craft.
"Well, I rather guess so," said Sam. "But it's time now to get over and
see Fenton."
Back to the yellow road they trudged. It led past farmhouses, and
fields with growing crops, or orchards containing many kinds of fruit
trees. It was a rich and fertile valley. Here and there, flowers grew
in rich profusion, roses, lilac and rhododendrons mingling their color
in harmonious contrasts.
The village was about half a mile from Rickham House. It had enjoyed a
boom as a health resort, on account of newly-discovered springs near
by, and the Resort House was one of the results which followed. Another
hotel was in the near future.
The boys found a few loungers on the porch of the hotel. They
stared at the Ramblers curiously. One in particular--a typical
mountaineer--seemed the most interested. He was a tall, thin man, with
deeply wrinkled face, scraggly brownish beard, and wore an expression
which Dick Travers declared "made 'Big Bill's' face seem positively
mirthful."
"Wal, wal! what's all this?" he growled. "Where did this parcel of boys
drop from?"
"Not from an air-ship, that's sure," replied Dick, flippantly.
"That ain't answerin' my question, youngster. Be you a-goin' ter stay
long?"
"Long enough to knock over a grizzly or two," laughed Dick. "Ever see
any?"
"Did I ever see any?" snorted the tall man. "Boys--you hear that?
Askin' old Joe Tomlin sich a question."
"He's makin' fun of ye, Joe," said some one, with a sly wink.
"No one kin do that," exclaimed the other, fiercely. "See here, kid----"
But the Ramblers had entered the hotel.
They soon found Howard Fenton, who introduced them to his father, a
slender, grave-looking gentleman wearing a beard.
But they soon found that Mr. Fenton's cold appearance belied his
nature. He entered into their talk with almost the zest of a boy, and
all were really sorry when he declined an invitation to accompany them.
"Just the kind of weather for a sail," observed Howard, as they walked
out upon the wharf.
The sky was partly overcast and the low clouds scudded before a breeze
that deeply rippled the surface of the lake. Several boats moored
to the pilings were lazily rocking or straining at their ropes. The
largest was the "Dauntless," a staunch boat, built both for speed and
safety.
"It's mine, boys," said Fenton, with a smile. "Jump in, and let me show
you what a good sailor I've become."
The lines were cast off and the sail run up. In an instant it filled
out. Careening over, under the full force of the wind, the "Dauntless"
plunged her bow into the choppy water, and a cloud of spray dashed over
the rail. Soon she was fairly racing toward the islands, Promontory
rising grim and majestic against the lowering sky.
"Isn't this grand?" cried Bob. "See how fast we're leaving the shore.
Where are you going to land us, Fenton?"
"On Promontory Island. But we have to go through the passageway and
around on the other side."
It seemed but a short time before they were skirting the shore of
Hemlock Island, while a little way off the more rugged sides of the
other rose, in places, almost perpendicularly. Here and there, stunted
growth struggled for existence, but the summit was crowned with a thick
growth of trees. Hemlock Island was flat, and almost entirely wooded.
"Look alive, fellows!" warned Fenton, at length.
The boom swung around, the "Dauntless" shivered and shook, then,
righting herself easily, sent the spray flying again, as she came about
and headed for the passageway.
"What whopping big trees," cried Tom Clifton, admiringly, noticing the
giants that rose here and there among the dark firs.
"Redwood," said Fenton. "This is a glorious country for trees and plant
life generally. There are oaks in there, besides wild cherry and many
other kinds. Of course some parts of the state are barren, with salt
marshes and plains covered with sage-brush."
"Give me this part every time, then," said Bob. "Doesn't it look
inviting in there, fellows? Imagine a nice little camp, and dinner
under way."
"Wait until you see the other side of Promontory," put in Fenton; "it
beats this all hollow."
At the proper time, the course of the boat was again changed slightly,
and they entered a wide channel.
The passageway was almost in the shape of a letter V, with irregular
sides.
In the shelter of the great crags, the speed of the "Dauntless" was
considerably checked, indeed, within the channel, she was almost
becalmed.
"Think of trying to climb that cliff, Chubby," exclaimed Sam Randall,
glancing aloft. "Whew, wouldn't it be awful?"
"Makes me nervous to think of it, even," broke in Tommy Clifton.
"I can show you a way to reach the top without danger," laughed Fenton.
"From there, you get a good view of Canyon River."
In a short time the "Dauntless" swung around a point.
On this side, the character of the island was different. In parts there
were rocky cliffs, while elsewhere thickly-wooded slopes led upward.
They were steep, but easily climbed.
Now and then they passed picturesque coves and wooded points, and the
newcomers were thoroughly charmed.
"Hello, I see a boat!" exclaimed Bob, suddenly.
"And by the flying partridge, the smoke of a camp-fire," laughed Dave.
"And a tent," chimed in Sam Randall.
"Probably Jim Havens and Tom Sanders," put in Fenton. "Might as well
land;" and so speaking, he headed the "Dauntless" toward the shore.
As they approached the camp, which was built on a knoll, three young
men were seen lazily reclining on the ground. They sprang to their feet
and walked forward.