THE RACES.
Ben did not refer to his discovery, and after he had explained the
reasons why he had returned alone to the camp he joined Mrs. Cope, who
was seated in a camp-chair on the high bluff, and delightedly watching
the constantly shifting scene which the great river presented. The
pleasure Jock's mother felt in the marked improvement in her son's
appearance was certainly shared by his two friends, and Bob demurely
remarked that he even had hopes that Ben and Bert would also
"improve," a wish which Ben laughingly declared was destined to be
blighted.
As the shadows of evening began to appear, the return of the absent
members of the party at once drew the attention of all to them, and
while Ethan and Tom prepared supper, Mr. Cope described his visit to
the old schoolhouse, and the enjoyment he had experienced in
revisiting the scenes of his boyhood. His wife declared that she
believed he had regained some of his boyish spirits too, for it had
been long since she had seen him so animated and enthusiastic.
Just as Ethan announced that supper was ready, a skiff was seen
approaching the dock, and a messenger-boy advanced with several
telegrams, which Mr. Cope had left word at the hotel should be
forwarded to the camp.
As Mr. Cope tore open the yellow envelopes, Ethan curiously observed
his old-time friend, and when the telegrams had been read, said,--
"I hope ye haven't had any bad news, Jock?"
Mr. Cope laughed as he replied, "Rather bad for me, I fear. I shall
have to return to New York to-night. You see, Ethan, I can't have more
than a day off. I almost envy you your freedom."
"Did they send ye word in the telegrams?" inquired the boatman.
"Yes. They are about important business engagements."
"Bus'ness!" exclaimed Ethan. "I didn't s'pose any one ever telegraphed
jist about bus'ness. I thought nobody ever telegraphed unless somebody
was dead. Hi Perkins once telegraphed to his ma when he thought he
was goin' to die with the pewmony; but it costs four shillin' for ten
words, I'm told. Must be mighty important business what would make
anybody send ye five or six on 'em."
"It is important; so important that I shall have to go back to the Bay
and start for home to-night. I'm sorry, too. But then, if a business
man doesn't have very much outside pleasure in life, his wife and
children can have it, and he must take his in knowing that."
Soon after supper Mr. Cope bade good-by to the boatman and boys, and
with Mrs. Cope and Jock departed for Alexandria Bay. Jock was to
remain at the hotel for the night, but was to return to the camp in
the morning, though his mother was to stay at the hotel until the boys
should be ready to break camp and go home with her.
Apparently Jock's mother enjoyed the experience of the days which
followed as much as did the boys themselves. Every day she was rowed
over to Pine Tree Island, and sometimes the boys were persuaded to
return with her for a dinner at the hotel, or to be present of an
evening when something of special interest was occurring in the
parlors.
Her friends, the Clarkes, also did much to add to the pleasure, for
with their yacht they made various trips among the islands, or planned
for picnics which were a never failing source of delight to all.
At last came the great day of the canoe races, and as it had been
arranged that all the friends should go on Mr. Clarke's yacht to the
place selected, and take a position on the river from which the races
could be seen from beginning to end, the occasion had been looked
forward to with great anticipations.
When the happy party stopped at the dock for Mrs. Cope and the boys,
the greetings were unusually enthusiastic, for a more perfect day had
not been seen since the campers had come to Pine Tree Island.
A few masses of silver clouds could be seen in the sky, but the sun
was shining clear and strong. A gentle breeze ruffled the surface of
the river, and the air was delightfully cool and bracing. Life was
indeed worth living now, and as the light-hearted members of the party
assembled on board the yacht, their laughter and joyous expressions
seemed all a part of the day.
When Ben quietly picked up his canoe and placed that too on board, a
shout greeted him; but as all already knew that he was determined to
enter the contest, for he previously had entered his name, no one was
surprised; but when, a moment later, Bob came, bringing with him a
dress-suit case, evidently heavily laden, a fresh shout of surprise
was given him.
"Oh, I knew Ben would fall into the water," he declared, "so I have
brought a change of clothing for him. I'm very tender-hearted. It's my
nature, though, and I can't help it, so you needn't bestow any praise
on me."
"I shouldn't be surprised if you needed a change yourself," rejoined
Ben, "before you've finished your race."
"Whom are you talking about?" demanded Bob, in surprise. "I haven't
had any time to practise. I've been too busy."
"I know all about your busy-ness," retorted Ben, sharply.
Bob glanced up quickly, but Ben was looking out over the river now,
and it was impossible to catch his eye. The yacht was free from the
dock by this time, and was speeding swiftly down the river. For a
time, apparently, all other things were forgotten in the joy of the
morning. Other parties could be seen on the river, and it was evident
that they too had started for the same destination, and as the voyage
continued, the number of the boats steadily increased. Canoes, skiffs,
steam-yachts, launches, sailboats, all were there, some draped with
bright colors, all displaying flags, and every one carrying
eager-hearted spectators who were acting as if life never had known a
care or sorrow.
At last our party arrived at the place where the races were to be
held, and bright-colored buoys, indicative of the course, could be
seen on the water. Patrol boats kept the course free, and Mr. Clarke
soon selected a favorable place and his yacht was anchored.
Ben now prepared to take his canoe and start for the head of the
course, where all those who were to participate were to assemble. As
he lowered the canoe into the water, Bob approached him, and said
soberly,--
"I think I'll go with you, Ben. I've got your clothes here, and
you'll need some one to look after you. I'm the kind-hearted friend to
do that very thing."
"I was expecting you to say that," replied Ben. "I was wondering why
you didn't speak up before. Where's your craft, Bob?"
"My craft! Why, I haven't any here, and you know it;" but a peculiar
twinkle in Ben's eye caused him to approach, and a whispered
conversation at once followed.
No one of the others could hear what was said, but the result was
apparent when Ben consented to his friend's going with him, and in a
brief time both boys were in the canoe, and Ben was ready to push off.
"You'll not forget that we have some luncheon on board, boys," called
Miss Bessie. "You'll surely be back in time to have some of that."
"Don't be alarmed," laughed Ben. "I never knew Bob to be late for
anything of that kind. I trust you have enough; for he'll be hungry, I
can promise you."
A cheer followed the boys as Ben dipped his paddle in the water, and
the canoe darted forward under his powerful strokes. His long form
was not particularly graceful, but the speed of his canoe promised
well, and Jock turned to the others and said,--
"I shouldn't be surprised if Ben did get a place in the finals to-day.
He's improved wonderfully. The way he has kept at it is a lesson for
us all. I wish he might win. I wonder what Bob really went with him
for? Do you know I half suspect he's got a scheme of some kind of his
own."
No one replied, for the sound of a pistol was now heard, and the first
of the races was begun. It was a contest between cat-boats, and as the
beautiful little crafts swept into sight and dipped low before the
strong and favoring breeze, the shrill whistles of the steam-yachts,
the waving of handkerchiefs, and the shouts of the people welcomed
them.
As no one in our party was acquainted with any of the participants in
this race, their interest naturally was not as keen as it was to be in
some of the contests which were to follow, but they nevertheless were
enthusiastic observers of the man[oe]uvres of the skilfully handled
boats. On they came, keeping well in line, their white sails and
whiter sides glistening in the sunlight, and presenting a wondrously
beautiful spectacle as they swept down the river.
As Mr. Clarke now discovered that most of the yachts were not
anchored, but were free to follow the contestants outside the buoys,
he, too, took his anchor on board and steamed down the river so that
they could watch the boats all the way. The shores of the islands were
lined with interested spectators, and the waving of bunting, and the
cheers of the people, as the fleet boats approached, redoubled.
At last the stake was turned, and the boats started on the home
stretch. They were not bunched as they had been, but three had gained
over their rivals, and, well together, were tacking and striving each
to gain an advantage over the others. It could be seen now that one
was more skilfully handled than the other two, and soon it was
distinctly gaining upon both. On and on they came, and finally the
_Thistle_, bending gracefully before the breeze, swept first across
the line, the men on board swinging their caps and shouting in their
delight, while the screams of the whistles and the cheers of the
spectators sounded shrilly in response. It certainly was a very
inspiring sight, and the party on board Mr. Clarke's yacht, though
they were strangers to the winners, were cheering as lustily in their
delight as if it had been one of their own company who had secured the
first prize.
A race between canoes equipped with double bat-winged sails followed,
and the stirring scene was again enacted. The whistles blew and
banners were waved, and the winning boat was as lustily cheered as the
successful one in the first contest had been.
Then followed a contest between canoes with a single bat-wing sail,
and once more the interest of the spectators voiced itself in the same
expressive manner which had been used before.
The excitement on the yacht very markedly increased when it was
learned that the next race was to be between canoes with one paddler
in each.
In the row of beautiful little canoes which took their places in line,
Ben's long form could be easily distinguished. As the party hailed his
appearance with a cheer, Ben turned and discovered them, and while
striving to wave his cap in response, almost destroyed his balance,
and was very nearly thrown into the river.
There was no disposition among his friends to laugh now, and the girls
uttered a little cry of dismay at the threatened mishap; but as Ben
speedily regained his balance, they all became silent as they watched
him intently. His long arms were bare, and his bright red sweater was
to be easily distinguished in the line. In a moment the pistol
sounded, and the racers were off.
There were seven contestants, and their paddles struck the water
together. For a few minutes the line was almost unbroken; then it
could be seen that three or four were pulling ahead of their rivals,
and among the number was Ben. Faster and faster swept the frail little
barks, and the interest of the spectators was evidently much keener
than it had been in the other contests. The forms of the paddlers
seemed to move like clock-work. The paddles were dipped rapidly and
steadily, and the race between the leaders was very close. Slowly Ben
gained upon his nearest rival and passed him, and then, with longer,
swifter strokes, strove to gain upon the two who were still in advance
of him.
Inch by inch, foot by foot, the distance decreased. Soon only about
twenty yards remained between him and the end. Once more the
determined boy bent to his task. His body swayed back and forth, the
paddle was driven deeper into the water, and the light canoe seemed to
gain increased speed. People were cheering wildly all about him, and a
cloud of banners seemed to be waving on every side.
Again Ben responded, and was striving to use all his remaining power.
He was not directly behind his competitors, being several yards to
their left, and now he was not more than two feet in their rear. If
only the course were a little longer, he thought, he would surely win;
but shutting his teeth firmly together, he doggedly resolved to do his
best. His eyes were almost closed, and his breath was coming in gasps.
Suddenly there was a moment of intense silence, as the shouting
abruptly ceased, but Ben was oblivious of it all. In a moment,
however, the shouting redoubled, there was a shrill screech of the
whistles, and Ben knew that he was across the line and alone.
As he turned about he discovered that his competitors had met with a
mishap, and that one, in his zeal, had paddled directly into the
other, and both canoes had been capsized in the collision. Their
misfortune had left Ben the winner.
The yacht speedily approached, and as the girls waved their
handkerchiefs and his friends called out their approval, Mr. Clarke
assisted him to come on board.
"I can congratulate you on winning the race," said Mr. Clarke,
cordially.
"Oh, I haven't won it," replied Ben, his flushed face beaming with
pleasure. "That's only the preliminary. The finals are to come off
this afternoon."
Somewhat disappointed, the party was headed up the river again, and
soon approached the starting-place. They all laughed when they learned
that a tub race was now to take place, and the astonishment of all
except Ben was great when they discovered that one of the contestants
was none other than their missing friend, Bob.