Chapter 28

DORY MAKES A HARBOR FOR THE NIGHT.

Dory could not see any reason why his uncle should follow him at all, and especially not why he should chase him in the night and the storm. It seemed to him not improbable that the Sylph had abandoned the pursuit, and gone up the lake.

While he was hoping the chase was ended on the part of his uncle, the Goldwing came up with the south-west point of the large island. Beyond it the sea looked very ugly, and it would shake the schooner up in a very lively manner in the next mile and a half she had to make. Dory did not care to take any needless risks; and, if the steamer had given up the chase, he intended to get under a lee, and anchor till morning.

He looked back once more before the boat reached a position where he could not see the other side of the lake. To his regret he saw the Sylph just coming into view beyond Ladd's Point. She had not given it up. He wished he had made another half mile, and then she could not have seen the schooner; for she would have been behind the island. She could see him plainly enough now, and she headed for the south of Ball Island.

Having passed through the channel between the islands, the weather there proved to be a perfect muzzler. The Goldwing labored heavily in the angry chop sea, and it was all Dory could do to keep her right side up. In a few minutes more it seemed quite impossible to do so, and Dory let go the mainsail halyards. Whether he was caught or not, he could no longer carry all sail. He had put the schooner before it, but he had to come up into the wind to get in the mainsail.

The young skipper's calculations had been within bounds, and he could afford the time he spent in reducing sail. With more experience he would have taken in sail from choice rather than necessity, for a boat don't sail any faster by being crowded with more sail than she can carry. The foresail was a large one, and it almost becalmed the jib. It was all the sail she needed, and Dory soon saw that he was going faster than at any time before.

A run of a mile and a half more brought the boat up with the extreme end of St. Alban's Point. An eighth of a mile west of it was a small island. Here was another of those channels which the low water rendered available for the purpose of the skipper in eluding his swift pursuer. The channel was about four feet deep; and Dory hauled in the fore sheet, and went through it. Under the lee of the island the skipper found the water quiet. Throwing the boat up into the wind, he ran forward, and hauled down the jib. Then he threw over the anchor, leaving the foresail set.

It was getting dark, and the manoeuvring could not be kept up much longer. It would be fifteen or twenty minutes before the Sylph could come up with St. Alban's Point. The Goldwing was behind the island, and he did not think the people on board of her would discover where she was. If they did, she could not follow him through the shoal passage. If she got out her boats again, he could run off to the northward under the foresail. All he had to do was to watch and wait.

He had still a considerable supply of ham and hard-bread and cheese in the cabin; and, while he watched and waited, he ate his supper. Before he had eaten all he wanted, he saw the bow of the Sylph beyond the point of the little island. She had stopped her screw, and this made it evident to Dory that his uncle suspected he had gone through one of the openings to the other side of the islands.

The skipper of the Goldwing was tired of the chase, but he did not intend to be captured by his uncle. He could hear the escaping steam on board of the Sylph, and he knew that she was not more than a quarter of a mile distant from him. Captain Gildrock would get out his boats again, and send them through the passage, where the steamer could not go. Weighing the anchor, he stood off to the north-west under the foresail only.

Though the wind was blowing almost a gale, the schooner went along very well under the foresail. She had not made half a mile before Dory saw the Sylph standing down the bay again. This movement called for reflection on the part of the skipper. He was not quite willing to believe that his uncle would allow himself to be caught again by the old strategy. If she were going around to the north side of the islands, it was a five-miles' run; and it would take her half an hour to do it.

After thinking the matter over for some time, he concluded that his uncle was using strategy. If he was really going around the islands, he had left the boats where they could intercept him if he resorted to the old dodge. He decided not to be caught in any trap, and therefore he continued on his way to the northward. Ahead of him was Wood's Island, and he changed his course enough to carry the boat to the leeward of it.

It was getting to be quite dark, and the chase could not be continued much longer. It was less than two miles to Wood's Island, and he was soon up with the southern point of it. It was now too dark for him to see the boats, if they had come through from the bay. Dead to windward he at last discovered a green light, which he had no doubt was the starboard signal-lantern of the Sylph.

The steamer was really going around the islands. He watched this light with deep interest, and in a few minutes he made out the red light. Both the port and the starboard lights were now to be seen, and this indicated that the Sylph was coming towards him. But she was nearly three miles distant, and at present he had nothing to fear from her.

The Goldwing was now up with the cape that extends out from the east side of the island. For half a mile beyond it, was a shoal of rocks and sand; so that the steamer could not come within that distance of the shore until after she had passed this shoal. The coast-line of the island now trended to the west. Taking another look in the direction of the steamer, he found he could see only her red, or port, light. This indicated that she had headed to the eastward, and was going towards the place where Dory had anchored.

The schooner carried no lights, and it was impossible that those on board of the Sylph had seen her in the darkness. She had gone in to the shoals between the large island and the main shore to pick up her boats. Dory was quite satisfied with the present aspect of his case. The darkness would fight out the rest of the battle for him.

A quarter of a mile behind the point on Wood's Island there was a bay, into which he ran the schooner. He hauled the centre-board entirely up, and then worked the boat as far as he could towards the land. When she grounded, he lowered the foresail, and made every thing snug on board. His craft was completely sheltered from the violent wind; but he carried the anchor up to the shore, and buried one of the flukes in the sand.

From the boat he could no longer see the steamer's lights. But, when he had planted the anchor, he went ashore, and walked down to the projecting point, from the end of which, if it had been light enough, he could have seen the whole of the north side of Potter's Island. The port light of the Sylph was still in sight, but in a few minutes it disappeared. Neither of the signal-lights could be seen; and this indicated that the steamer was headed away from Dory's position, or had stopped her screw.

Presently he saw some white lights moving about. He judged that they were lanterns in the hands of the men. Beyond this he could form no idea what was going on. He watched the lanterns for twenty minutes or more. He supposed the steamer was picking up her boats, if she had sent any out: if not, they must be examining the shore in search of the Goldwing. Dory was sure they would not find her, and he felt entirely easy.

About this time it began to rain. The skipper had on nothing but his shirt and trousers, and the rain felt wet to him. He did not like the feeling of it. He had played his part as far as he could that night. If his uncle discovered him in his present retreat, he could not help himself. There was nothing more that he could do to keep out of the way of the steamer. He might as well get into the cabin out of the rain, and take his chances.

As he started to return to the boat, he took a last look to the southward. The lanterns had disappeared some time before, but now the port light of the Sylph came into view again. A little later he saw the green light. Both were in sight at the same time. The steamer, therefore, was coming towards him. He hastened back to the boat, and waded off to her.

Dory did not believe that the Sylph's people could see the Goldwing in the darkness and in the mist caused by the rain. He drew the slide, and crawled into the cabin, leaving the doors open so that he could see out upon the lake. After a while he saw the two lights of the steamer. She was moving very slowly to the northward. The green light disappeared as she came nearer.

The island was less than a mile from the mainland, and the Sylph was obliged to keep half a mile from the shore to clear the shoal. She passed the dangerous navigation, and Dory was strained up to the highest pitch of anxiety as he waited to see whether she was coming in any nearer to his hiding-place. He watched for the green light, but he saw only the red one.

The rain came down in torrents; and the skipper could hear the roar of the gale on the island, though he was completely sheltered from its fury. It was so thick out on the water that he could no longer see the red light, or only caught an occasional glimpse of it. The steamer had gone off to the northward, and this was evidence enough to Dory that his retreat had not been discovered. The excitement was over for that day and that night. The skipper put on the rest of his clothes, and turned in. While he was wondering whether the Sylph would make a harbor, and anchor for the night, or return to Plattsburgh, he dropped asleep. He was very tired, and he slept like a rock till the sun shone into the cabin in the morning.

Southerly storms are of short duration generally, and there was not a cloud in the sky when Dory went out into the standing-room to survey the situation. A gentle breeze was blowing from the west, and the appearance of the lake and its surroundings was as beautiful as the dream of a maiden. It was Sunday morning: he had been cruising for three days on the lake, and he was anxious to get home. But his first desire was to ascertain what had become of the Sylph. She was not to be seen from his position in the boat.

Taking a large slice of ham in one hand, and a quantity of hard-bread in the other, he waded to the shore. From the highest ground, he surveyed the islands and the mainland to the northward and eastward without seeing any thing of the steamer. Walking to the hill in the south of the island, the first thing he discovered, when he got high enough to see over the top of it, was the Sylph. She was headed to the south-west; and Dory concluded that she had spent the night under the lee of Butler's Island, two miles north of Wood's Island. She was bound through the Gut, and in a few minutes she disappeared from the skipper's view.