A NIGHT OF ANXIETY.
To add to the consternation of the boys, the face of the sky was now
obscured by clouds, and the rising wind gave tokens of a coming storm.
The tall trees groaned and swayed, and the quiet waters of the river
were rising, and already were beginning to lash the low beach.
"I'm afraid Ben's in trouble," said Jock, unable to endure the silence
longer. "If he's all right, he never could find his way in such
darkness as this."
"He started out as if he was going up the stream," said Bert, no less
troubled than his friend. "He ought to have been able to get back."
"He ought not to have gone out at all, as far as the 'ought' is
concerned," replied Jock, gloomily. "Here we were thinking Ethan was a
greenhorn; but he's forgotten more than we ever knew. It was a fool
trick for Ben to start out as he did."
"Well, he went, and that's all there is to say about it. We'll pile
the logs up higher and wait. It's all we can do now," said Bob.
Bob's suggestion was at once acted upon; and soon the light of the
camp-fire was leaping up in long tongues of flame. The wind served to
increase the blaze, and the roar of the blazing logs was added to that
of the rising storm.
For a time the boys sat in silence before the fireplace, gazing out
over the river, and eagerly looking for the sight of the little canoe.
They knew that even a skilled sailor would not dare to venture out in
such a night, but as Ben was already on the river, he must find some
place to land; and so, hoping against hope, the lads waited.
"There comes the rain," said Bob, at last, as a few drops fell upon
his upturned face. "What a night to be out on the river in!"
"Jock," said Bert, "haven't I read that these canoes are upset very
easily on the river here?"
"I think it's likely. They are capsized, whether you've read it or
not."
"Ben can swim, anyway," said Bert, "and that's one comfort."
"I'm afraid he couldn't swim very far to-night," replied Jock,
gloomily. "He couldn't see ten yards before him, and he wouldn't know
where to start for. Whew! Just hear that!"
The rain was now coming faster, and beat upon the faces of the boys
and fell sputtering into the fire. The wind, however, was so strong
that the fire roared and snapped, and a cloud of smoke was borne away
down the river. Inky blackness surrounded them, and the sounds of the
storm-swept river became steadily louder.
"There's no use in all of us staying out here in the rain. The rest of
you go into the tent, and I'll stay here and attend to the fire," said
Jock.
"Don't you think we'd better try to go over to the mainland and rouse
out Ethan? Ben may be in trouble somewhere, and Ethan'll find him if
any one can," said Bert.
"I've thought of that," said Jock, "but it won't be safe to try it.
We've nothing but the canoe here, and it couldn't live in such a storm
as this. Just hear that, will you!" he added.
There was a great roaring in the trees now, and the sound became
steadily louder. The rain, too, increased, and sometimes seemed to
dash upon them in sheets. Out on the river the tossing waters could be
seen where the light of the camp-fire fell, and, capped with white,
they presented a wild sight. And Ben was somewhere on those angry
waters! For a moment it seemed to the troubled Jock that he could see
the picture of a little white-winged canoe driven on by the furious
storm, and in the stern of the boat was a terrified face which
strongly resembled that of the missing Ben. Just then there came a
still more furious blast. The tall trees bent and groaned, and the
tossing waters leaped before it, as a highly strung horse darts
forward at the touch of a whip.
Again it seemed to Jock as if he could see the little canoe driven
before the roaring wind. The gust seemed to lift the light craft in
its grasp, the pale face of the lad on board leaned forward, then
there was a sudden lurching of the boat, the sail dipped until it
touched the water, and then boat and boatman disappeared from sight
and nothing could be seen but the tossing waters and nothing be heard
but the roar of the storm. Thick darkness settled over all, and even
penetrated the heavy heart of the anxious watcher.
None of the boys was willing to leave Jock alone to watch the
camp-fire, and after the mackintoshes had been put on they all
returned and waited. Occasionally a fresh log was thrown upon the
blazing pile and the sparks flew upward, serving only to render more
intense the thick blackness that surrounded them.
There was slight hope of Ben returning now, but the anxious boys were
determined to keep the fire burning, for it would serve as a landmark
if, by any chance, the absent lad might be near. Their eyes were
seldom taken from the river, and hour after hour passed as the vigil
continued.
About midnight the storm abated, and soon the twinkling stars appeared
in the sky. In the renewed hope that Ben might have been able to gain
the shelter of some secluded island and remain until the storm had
passed, they piled the logs still higher and waited and watched for
the canoe to appear.
There were few words spoken now. The river gradually became more
silent and resumed its former peacefulness, and the tall trees ceased
to bend and sway. Perhaps the end had already come and even the waves
were satisfied with the ruin they had wrought.
"I shan't give up hope yet," said Jock, at last. "Ben wouldn't be
likely to try to get back before morning, and he'll wait for daylight
wherever he is."
"Wherever he is," murmured Bert, as if he was speaking to himself.
"You don't really think he's been--that anything has happened to him,
do you?" said Jock, anxiously.
"I hope not."
"I don't know what I'd say to his father and mother," began Jock,
again. "And just think of it! When we were counting on such a good
time, too, and to have this happen almost at the very beginning! Don't
you think we'd better go over to Ethan's now and rouse him out? He'd
know what to do."
"I think we'd better wait till it's light, anyway," said Bob. "I
suppose you're thinking of sending Ethan with his sailboat to look him
up?"
"Yes, that was what was in my mind. You see, Ben may have met with an
accident. He may have lost his paddle, or his mast may have been
broken. There's a hundred things I can think of, and if he should be
cast away on some island, he wouldn't be able to get off without
help."
"You don't know whether to go up the river or down," said Bert,
disconsolately.
"Ben started up the river when he went off," replied Jock; "but it's
just as likely that he's been carried down the stream, with the
current and the wind both to push him on. Ethan will know what to do,
though."
"He'll probably go in one direction and Tom in the other," suggested
Bob.
The three boys lapsed into silence, and while no one spoke openly of
the great fear in his heart, it was nevertheless evident that a common
anxiety had them all in its grasp. Occasionally one would rise and go
down to the dock and peer eagerly out over the river, but his failure
to discover anything of interest would be betrayed by his silence and
gloom when he rejoined his fellows.
The slow hours dragged on and still the heavy-hearted lads waited. The
leaves of the trees dripped steadily, and the monotonous sounds
served only to deepen the feeling of depression. Try as they would the
boys could not shake off their fears, and when at last the first faint
streaks of the dawn appeared in the eastern sky, they were so worn by
their watching, and the anxiety of the long night, that the coming day
brought no relief.
"Two of us had better stay here in the camp," suggested Bob, when the
light became more pronounced. "If you know where Ethan lives, Jock,
you'd better take the canoe and go over to his place."
"I'll go," replied Jock, quickly.
The opportunity to bestir himself afforded a slight relief, and going
at once to the bank he lifted the overturned canoe from its place and
bore it in his arms down to the water. Quickly taking his place on
board he grasped the paddle and with vigorous strokes sent the light
craft swiftly over the water in the direction of the mainland. His two
friends watched him as long as he could be seen and then returned to
the camp. The fire had burned low by this time, but as daylight was at
hand there was little use in keeping it up, and the boys occasionally
stirred the embers as if in the ashes they were looking for something
they had lost.
As the glow of the dawn became more pronounced, and at last the great
sun itself appeared above the horizon, the waiting lads had no thought
of breakfast. Even the wonderful appetite of which they had boasted on
the preceding day, was not able to move them now. The keen air had
lost its power, and all hunger was gone.
From time to time a boat was discovered on the river, and the lads
watched each in silence until it was hidden from sight among the
islands; the missing Ben did not appear. More than two hours had
elapsed since Jock's departure from the camp, when Bob suddenly
exclaimed:--
"Isn't that a canoe out there on the river?"
"Where? Where?" inquired his companion, eagerly.
"Out there in the direction of the point! Hold on a minute, and I'll
get the glasses and we'll see what we can make of it."
Bob hastily ran into the tent and returned with the glasses. Lifting
them to his eyes he gazed long and earnestly at the little spot on the
surface of the river, and then without a word handed them to his
friend. Bert eagerly took them, and after he had peered intently at
the distant object, he lowered the glasses and said in a low voice,
"It's a canoe, Bob, and it's headed this way."
"That's what I made out of it," replied Bob.
"If it was Ben he'd have a sail."
"I don't know whether he would or not. He might have lost it, you
know, in the storm. That isn't the direction from which Jock would
come."
"No. He went straight across from here. Do you think it's Ben?"
Bob made no reply, but he ran swiftly down to the dock, and his
companion as speedily followed him. There they waited for the
approaching canoe, confirming themselves by repeated uses of the
glasses that it was headed for the camp. The little boat became more
distinct, and soon they could see the movements of the occupant as he
deftly wielded his paddle.
At last, when it was within two hundred yards of the dock, after
another long look through the glasses, Bob said, "It's Jock."
Neither of them spoke until Jock ran the canoe in-shore, and then by
the expression upon his face they knew that he had no good report to
make.
"I found Ethan," said Jock, as he lifted the canoe out of the water
and placed it on the bank, "and he and Tom have gone out. One has gone
up the river and the other down."
"What did he say?" inquired Bert, eagerly.
"Nothing."
"Does he think Ben's--"
Bert did not complete the question, and then said, "We weren't looking
for you to come from that direction. We thought perhaps it might be
Ben."
"Ethan sent me over to a man he knew a little farther up the river.
I've started him out to look, too. That's the reason why I came from
that direction. Ethan suggested that I should bring some breakfast
over for you, but I didn't think you'd want any. I knew I didn't,
anyway."
"Nor do we," said Bob. "What are we to do now, Jock? Isn't there
something we can do?"
"Ethan told us to stay here in camp till he came. He says he'll be
here by noon, and then if he doesn't learn anything, we'll decide
whether we'd better telegraph home or not."
Jock's voice broke as he spoke, and his evident anxiety was shared by
the other boys. The end would soon be at hand, but before Ethan's
return there was nothing for them to do but to strive to possess their
souls in patience and wait. Working would have been much more easy for
them all, but there was nothing they could do. They dared not venture
forth from the island for fear of losing their way in the tangled
maze, but they paced back and forth along the shore, peering eagerly
out over the river for the boat which still did not come.
About noontime Ethan returned to camp, but he had found no trace of
the missing Ben; and when an hour later Tom returned, he also had the
same disheartening report to make, for neither had he seen any one who
knew of the lost boy.