MAKING CAMP ON BASS ISLAND
A few days later, when a train stopped at the small station of Rockton,
a crowd of boys accompanied by two older persons and a smiling colored
man, jumped from the cars. They seemed to carry innumerable packages,
and not a few had in addition knapsacks fastened to their backs.
Besides this, from the baggage car an astonishing amount of stuff was
thrown, consisting of tents and cots and blankets.
Most of the provisions had been properly packed at the store. But Dick
saw to it that such things as eggs were carried by some of the boys,
since they would not stand much rough handling. They expected, however,
to secure further farm products from some farmer not a great distance
away from the camp on the shore of Bass Island.
Then the train began to puff again, and the score of boys, together
with Harry Bartlett, Mr. Asa Rowland, the physical culture director at
the Y. M. C. A., and “Sunny Jim,” the negro cook, found themselves left
at the small station.
“They say it’s all of four long miles to the lake,” remarked Peg
Fosdick, taking a look over the camp duffle that had been thrown in a
great pile alongside the track.
“Oh! if you think that would be too long a tramp for your game leg, Mr.
Bartlett would let you ride on one of the two wagons we’ve hired to
haul the stuff over,” Dick told him. To this, however, Peg protested,
saying:
“Huh! what d’ye take me for, Dick? If I’m not good for a little hike
like that I ought to have stayed at home and be tied to mother’s apron
strings. I was only wondering how much of this stuff I could hoist in
case those wagons failed us, that’s all.”
“Well, don’t bother about that,” called out Leslie just then. “From the
cloud of dust rising along the road over yonder I reckon our teams are
coming now.”
His prediction turned out a true one, and it did not take the eager
boys long to get their possessions loaded. There was more or less
merriment as this labor was in progress; and many were the comments
made concerning the piled-up wagons.
“Looks just like a gypsy outfit on the road,” suggested Clint Babbett.
“Now it would be a good thing for everybody who cared to do it to put
his bundle aboard one of the supply wagons,” Dick suggested. “Four
miles is something of a walk on a hot day like this, and it’s going
to feel like a bag of lead before you get there. We can take turns
carrying those precious home-laid eggs.”
“If we get settled in camp this afternoon we’ll be in good fix for our
first night out,” asserted Elmer, after they had started on the tramp,
stringing along the dusty country road.
“We ought to have the camp in pretty good shape for Mr. Holwell, if he
keeps his promise and comes up to see how we’re getting on to-morrow,”
added Dan. “We must let him see that we know how to go about things in
a way to make ’em look clean and neat. As Mr. Bartlett says, we don’t
mean to stand for any shiftless ways in Camp Russabaga!”
“That name sounds good to me,” remarked Dick, instantly. “If the rest
of you are of the same mind let’s begin and call it that from now on.”
“Camp Russabaga it is!” exclaimed Peg, with his customary enthusiasm.
“There could hardly be a name that’d suit me better.”
“It’s just the ticket all around!” added Asa.
“I should call it quite euphonious!” observed Humbert Loft, who after
all had decided to risk having his feelings hurt many times by his
rough comrades, and from sheer curiosity had concluded to accompany
them on the camping trip.
The campers plodded along just ahead of the heavily laden wagons, and
as is the case when a number of lively boys get together, there was so
much laughter and conversation that none of them noticed the passage of
time.
“We’re getting near the lake, fellows!” suddenly called out Fred
Bonnicastle. “I’m sure I had a glimpse of something that looked like
water just then. Yes, it lies yonder--between the two big oaks.”
“And not over half a mile away at that!” added some one else,
hopefully, for feet were commencing to drag.
“It’s surely lonely enough up this way,” remarked Leslie. “Not a sign
of a cabin around.”
“I heard there were one or two shanties on Bass Island that the berry
pickers stay in when it storms, the best picking being over on the
island,” answered Peg Fosdick. “We can make use of them for a storage
place.”
“And, too, if any finiky chap doesn’t like the idea of sleeping under
canvas, he’s at liberty to fix himself a bunk where he’ll have a real
roof over him,” put in Dan.
He looked at Humbert when saying this. The “superior” boy colored a
little and hastened to say:
“Oh! as for me, I’ve quite made up my mind that when I’m in Rome I
shall do as the Romans do. My uncle advised me to forget that we came
of an old and honored New England family when associating with----Oh! I
mean that I want to do just as the rest of you think is best.”
“He came mighty near calling us common folks!” whispered Peg, gloomily,
turning to Elmer, who chanced to be alongside the limping one. “I
reckon that is about what he really believes us to be. I hope His
Majesty isn’t going to be contaminated while he’s up here in camp with
the common herd. ‘Those who touch pitch will be defiled,’ I heard Mr.
Holwell say only last Sunday.”
“I’m real sorry for Humbert,” Elmer told him in reply. “He’s so very
nice that this rough-and-ready world isn’t good enough to hold him. He
ought to be in a glass case, it strikes me.”
The idea caused Peg to laugh aloud. Possibly Humbert may have suspected
that he had something to do with their merriment, for he turned and
looked at them almost reproachfully, which caused Peg to say in a low
tone:
“Oh! well, I suppose he just can’t help it. He’s been fed with soft
pap all his life, and had to associate with that lofty Loft uncle of
his who really believes all boys should be forced to read nothing but
standard works.”
It was not long before they came in sight of Lake Russabaga. The
spectacle was so inspiring that the boys broke out into a loud cheer.
“What a whopping big sheet of water it is!” exclaimed Elmer Jones. “It
must be a whole lot of miles across there to the further shore that
looks so dim in the distance.”
“And that island about a mile from this side must be the one we’re to
camp on--Bass Island,” suggested Peg, his voice filled with delight.
“Dick says we’d better be hurrying along!” called out Leslie. “You
understand we’ll have our hands full ferrying all this stuff across
there; and from the clouds gathering along the horizon Mr. Bartlett
seems to think we may have a thunder-storm before many hours pass by.”
“Get a move on, everybody!” cried Clint.
In due time the boys and the two teams reached the shore of the lake.
Here the loads were hurriedly taken off, after which the drivers were
paid and the teams started back, for neither of the men liked the looks
of the clouds, and both prophesied rain before long.
“Where are the two boats we were to use when up here?” asked Mr.
Rowland, who was a fine specimen of physical manhood.
“Dick and Elmer have gone to get them,” replied Leslie. “Dick knows
where they are hidden away from one summer to another. I only hope they
don’t leak too much, that’s all. It’d be pretty rough to have one of
them sink under us when half-way over.”
Leslie said this aloud so that Humbert might hear it, his object being
to give that “mother’s darling,” as Dan called Humbert, cause for
alarm. He accomplished his intention, for Humbert was seen to look
long and anxiously out across the waters of the lake, and then heave a
tremendous sigh.
The two boats were soon brought around, having been easily found.
They were not, as Fred Bonnicastle said, “things of beauty and a joy
forever.” In fact, the boys considered them very rough looking, being
rudely made, and old in the bargain. They leaked a little, but that
defect could no doubt be remedied when Dick and some of the others
found time to get to work on them.
By adjusting the loads properly and doing a little bailing
occasionally, the boats could be safely ferried across to the island.
Two good loads were sent off, with a number of the boys along to get
things started ashore. They were under the charge of Mr. Bartlett and
the physical culture director, and had orders to put up the tents and
fasten them with extra care, as there could be no telling how much
wind would come if the storm finally descended on them, and it would
be necessary to have some shelter both for themselves and for their
provisions.
When later on the boats returned only two boys came with them, the rest
of the party staying on the island in order to get the camp started.
Another load was sent off, and with it went a second detachment of the
boys, as well as the smiling black cook. All this took considerable
time. No one dared mention such a thing as stopping to eat until
everything had been safely transferred to the island where the camp was
to be pitched.
“There’s only enough stuff left here for a single load now,” called out
Dick, as both boats started off for the third time. “Send one of them
back with a fellow to row. I’ll be waiting here to clean up.”
It was almost half an hour later when he discovered the boat
approaching the shore. Dick was somewhat surprised to see that the boy
who wielded the oars was Asa Gardner; and he also noted that the boy
had a pretty fair stroke. His cheeks were rosy for one of his usually
pale complexion. His eyes, too, sparkled as though Asa was enjoying the
experience as far as it had gone.
“You’re surprised at seeing me, I know, Dick,” Asa said, as he drew in
to the land. “I just begged Leslie to let me bring the boat back, and
he agreed. The others are working like beavers to get the tents up and
everything safe before it starts to rain. Do you think we’ll be caught
in the storm, Dick?”
There was a little vein of anxiety in the boy’s voice, Dick fancied,
as though Asa might already be repenting of his temerity in venturing
across the wide waste of waters on such a risky errand.
“Let’s get the stuff packed aboard as soon as we can,” said Dick, as he
took up a bundle of blankets and tossed them into the skiff. “The storm
is likely to hold off another hour, but then it may catch us half-way
over. But you said you could swim, didn’t you, Asa?”
“Oh! yes, pretty well,” replied the other.
A few minutes sufficed to complete the packing. Dick wanted things to
be securely fastened in case they met with a heavy sea.
“Now we’re off,” he said, as he entered the boat. “I’ll start rowing,
because you must be tired, Asa. If it should get very rough I may have
to call on you to take an oar to help out, for two are better than one
at such times, you know.”
“I’m willing enough,” said the other, seating himself amidst the load.
Dick threw considerable power into his work. He knew there was more
or less danger of being caught far out from land in the storm, and
that, considering that their boat was old and leaky, did not present a
flattering outlook.
Just as he feared, they had gone little more than half the distance
across when a loud peal of thunder followed a brilliant flash of
lightning.
“It’s coming, Dick! The squall!” cried Asa. “I can see it racing over
the water!”