THE BOAT ON THE BAR
WHEN Little Peter discovered the presence of the men before him, his
first impulse had been to turn and make a dash into the woods; but the
call which he heard quickly changed all that. As one after another of
the band appeared, he recognized some of them as men who had been
enrolled in the local militia, and his alarm for a moment subsided.
The one who had addressed him he remembered as a young man not much
older than himself, who had all the summer been away from his home,
busied with his friends and neighbors in protecting the salt works along
the shore, and striving to hold back the outlaws from their raids in the
county.
The salt works were of especial value at this time, as some of them were
owned by the government and aided in increasing the scanty revenues of
the poverty-stricken country. Several of them already had been burned by
tories or bands of sailors, who had landed from some of the gunboats
which had come to anchor off the shore for the purpose of inflicting
such damage as lay within their power upon the adjacent region.
"What are you doing here, Peter?" repeated the lad who had first spoken.
As Little Peter now recognized the men before him as friends, he quickly
related to them the story of the sad misfortunes which had come upon his
home; and the many expressions of anger and sympathy which his words
called forth were not unwelcome, we may be assured, to the troubled boy.
When his brief story was told, the young man who had hailed him said,
"We're on an errand that may fit into your feelings a bit. We're short
one man, too. Don't you want to join us?"
"What are you trying to do?"
"We've just had word that a boat is aground off here on the bar, and
we're going to see if we can't get her. We've got a whaleboat down here
on the shore, and we're going to put out in her and see if we can't pull
the other boat off and bring her in with us."
"But there are a couple of gunboats not more than three quarters of a
mile out," protested Peter. "You can't do anything while they are
there."
"We can try," said the man who was acting as the leader. "We're one man
short, as Lyman here has just said, and if you feel inclined to join us
we shall be glad to have you."
Little Peter hesitated. It was not alone the danger of the enterprise
which troubled him. He was thinking of his father and his own purpose to
discover whether he had been sent to New York or not.
When he explained the cause of his perplexity, the leader said, "That's
all right, Peter. We're going down to Tom's River just as soon as we've
taken this boat out here. You see, our watch told us the boat is loaded
with supplies, and, if we can get her, we're going to do a double deed,
for we'll keep the others from having them, and we'll make good use of
the stuff ourselves. Now, if you'll go along with us, you'll make
another oar for us, and we'll be all the more likely to succeed. Then
you can go with us down to Tom's River, and poor company will be better
than none in times like these."
"I'll go," said Little Peter quickly, and the march was at once
resumed.
As they approached the wigwam, where Peter had left his Indian friends,
he stopped for a moment to explain to Indian John the cause of the
change in his plans.
John listened quietly until the lad had finished, and then said, "Me see
um again."
Little Peter did not understand just what the Indian meant by his words,
but he did not wait to inquire, for his friends were already in advance
of him, and he hastened to rejoin them.
No one spoke as they silently walked on to the shore, but when they had
gained the bluff, Lyman suddenly said, "There! Look there, will you? The
word was all right. The boat's aground out there on the bar."
Little Peter instantly recognized the boat as the one which he had seen
approaching from the gunboats, and for which the band of men from
Refugee Town had evidently been waiting. Doubtless they had mistaken him
and Indian John for members of the neighboring militia, and the cause of
their pursuit was now explained.
The men did not hesitate now, but going to a place a little farther up
the shore, they hastily removed a pile of brush and drew forth the long
whaleboat which they had concealed beneath it. The boat was not heavy,
and, lifting it in their arms, they bore it down to the water's edge.
Then grasping its sides, they ran with it into the water, and, at the
word from the leader, scrambled on board. In a moment they were all
seated, the long oars were drawn forth, and the men gave way with a
will.
Little Peter was in the bow, next to his friend Lyman. The excitement
now for a time banished from his mind the thoughts of his sorrow, and
even the search for his father was for the moment forgotten.
About three-quarters of a mile out at sea were the two gunboats riding
at anchor, and resting as gracefully upon the water as if they had been
birds. Directly before them was the supply boat, about a quarter of a
mile from the shore, and not more than that distance in advance. They
could see that four men were on board, and they were still striving
desperately to push her off from the bar on which she had grounded.
Not a word was spoken on the whaleboat now, and the men were all rowing
with long and steady strokes. The ocean was unusually calm, but every
lift of the heavy groundswell disclosed to them more clearly the
outlines of the boat they were seeking. Their purpose had not yet been
discovered by the men on the other boat, or if it had been discovered no
token was displayed. It was more than possible that they were regarded
as friends coming to the aid of the unlucky boat.
In this manner several minutes passed, the whaleboat, meanwhile, making
rapid progress over the water, driven forward by the efforts of the
determined men. The long, sandy shore stretched away in the distance,
the masses of clouds in the sky seemed to be lined with silver as the
rays of the sun shone through them, and not a sound could be heard
except the heavy breathing of the men and the regular clicks of the oars
in the row-locks.
In spite of the peacefulness of the scene, however, all the men in the
whaleboat fully realized the desperate nature of their undertaking, and
the likelihood that in a moment everything might be changed. Still,
there were no evidences of action on the gunboats, and the men on the
grounded boat betrayed no signs of alarm.
"There are some men on the shore up yonder," said the leader, as he saw
a group standing on the beach directly opposite the boat they were
seeking. "They don't seem to be able to help them," he added. "I don't
believe we've anything to fear from them. Give way, men! Give way!"
The band responded with a will, and the whaleboat darted forward with
increasing speed. The other boat lay only a few yards away, and the end
had almost come. The excitement on board was intense now, and, although
no one spoke, the expression on every face betrayed the feelings of the
men. They could see that the others were watching them, but still they
manifested no alarm at the approach of the whaleboat.
As the latter ran in alongside, and the men quickly backed water, one of
the sailors on the stranded boat--for such their uniforms disclosed them
to be--called out, "You're just in time, men! We thought we'd never get
this tub off the bar. The tide's coming in, but we're stuck fast."
"That's just what we came for," replied the leader, as he threw a rope
to the other boat. "Now make fast and we'll yank you off before you know
it."
One of the sailors caught the rope and made it fast, but evidently a
change came over his feelings then, for, glancing suspiciously at the
men before him, the one who had acted as the leader said, "You're from
Refugee Town, aren't you? You're strangers to me, but I take it for
granted you're all right!"
"No, sir; we're militia from Old Monmouth. We've come out here to get
you and your boat, too. Here, none of that!" he quickly added, as he saw
the men turn to grasp their guns. "We'll send you to the bottom before
you can tell your names if you try any of your games on us."
At his command the men in the whaleboat quickly covered the others with
their guns. For a moment the silence was unbroken. The advantage for the
present was very decidedly with the attacking party. Not only did they
outnumber the others, but they were also in a condition to act, and act
quickly. The situation, however, could not long remain as it was. The
gunboats were not more than a half mile away, and, doubtless, assistance
would be sent as soon as the predicament of the men should be
discovered.
Then, too, there were the men on the shore to be reckoned with.
Apparently, they had no boat with which they could come to the rescue
of the luckless sailors, but they might soon obtain one, for Refugee
Town was not far away. Why they had not already gone there was not
apparent. Perhaps they were trusting to the aid of the rising tide and
the efforts of the men.
"Pass over your guns!" said the leader on the whaleboat.
The men obeyed, and silently picked up and handed their guns to the
attacking party.
"Now we'll see what can be done," said the leader, after he had
deposited the weapons on the bottom of the whaleboat. "These fellows are
harmless now, and we'll take our oars and see if we can't pull them off
from the bar."
His men grasped their oars and began to row. The rope tightened, the
boat started a little, but still stuck fast to the bottom. Again the men
pulled desperately, but with all their efforts they could not move the
grounded boat.
"I'm afraid we'll have to cast overboard a part of the load," said the
leader, when the third effort proved as futile as its predecessors.
He arose from his seat and grasped the rope to pull the whaleboat
nearer, when the four men before him suddenly united in a loud shout,
and, leaping from their seats, together grasped some other guns which
had been concealed beneath the sailcloth, and, turning about before
their captors could recover from their surprise, stood aiming their
weapons directly at their faces.
"It's our turn," laughed one of the men. "You'll hand over your own guns
now!"
No one in the whaleboat moved from his position. The leader still stood,
leaning over the side and grasping the rope with his hands. Every one
had been so startled by the unexpected summons that he seemed almost
incapable of action.
"Come, be quick about it!" said the sailor, as the men still did not
move.
A faint sound of a shout now could be heard from the shore, and the
movements of the men there, as they ran about the beach, betrayed the
fact that they were aware that something was wrong. In the distance,
Little Peter could see that two barges filled with men were starting
forth from the gunboats. The situation was becoming rapidly worse,
critical as it then was.
"Their guns aren't loaded, men!" called the leader suddenly. "They can't
harm us."
Still his men did not respond. For an instant no one moved, while their
fear was plainly evident from the expressions upon their faces. No one
knew whether the leader's words were true or not, and in breathless
suspense they waited, fearing every moment to hear the reports of the
guns in the other boat.
As the men did not fire, the leader quickly shouted again, "They're not
loaded, I tell you! They can't hurt us! Don't pay any attention to
them!"
His words instantly served to arouse his companions, for they now knew
that if the guns had been loaded they would have been discharged before
this.
The sight of the barges which had started forth from the gunboats, and
the increasing confusion of the men on the shore, combined to render the
attacking party desperate now. Whatever they were to do they must do
quickly.
The leader called to his companions to cover the others with their guns,
and, drawing the whaleboat close up, said: "The boat's loaded with guns
and powder! That's just what we want. Now you take your oars and push
while my men row," he added, speaking to the sailors. "The first one of
you that draws back will get a dose of lead. Now! Quick! Do as I tell
you!"
The men sullenly laid down the empty guns, and, picking up their oars,
began to push against the sandy bottom. The men in the whaleboat were
rowing desperately, and soon could feel that the other boat had started.
It was not yet free, however, and the leader called again to the
sailors, "Harder, men, harder! You aren't half pushing. That's right!
Harder yet! Harder, I say! We'll be out of this in a minute. Give way,
men! You aren't asleep, are you? Pull! Pull!"
In his eagerness, the leader laid down his gun, and, hastily grasping an
oar, began to pull with his companions. Slowly the grounded boat
responded to their efforts. Inch by inch it slipped from the bar, but
was not yet free.
Meanwhile, the confusion on the shore was increasing. The men were
running up and down the beach, waving their arms and shouting. The two
barges were coming swiftly from the gunboats, and if the loaded boat was
not soon dragged from the bar, it would once more be in the possession
of the enemy.
They were still working desperately. The perspiration stood out in great
drops upon their faces. They braced their feet against the seats in
front of them and put forth all their strength. The moments seemed like
hours to the struggling men, but the loaded boat was slow to respond to
their efforts. It was steadily yielding, however, and at last they saw
the boat slide from the bar and rest easily upon the open water.