CHAPTER V.

BEN TRIES THE CANOE.

Before any of the boys could start in pursuit of the fleeing Tom, one of them suddenly called out, "Isn't that Ethan coming?"

They all turned at the words and perceived the fisherman already near the dock, and with one accord they ran swiftly to meet him. His boat was apparently filled with their trunks and belongings, and the two canoes which Jock had ordered to be sent were also on board.

As Ethan ran his craft alongside the dock, Jock, too excited to note carefully whether all his possessions had been obtained or not, called out, "Oh, Ethan, something's the matter with Tom!"

"Hey? somethin' the matter with him? How long since?"

To the surprise of the boys Ethan did not seem to share in their alarm. He was giving all his thought to the landing he was making, and as soon as his boat was made fast he climbed up on the dock and stood calmly regarding the excited lads before him.

"What's he been doin' now?" he said.

"Oh, I don't know," exclaimed Jock. "We had all gone up the shore and when we came back to camp we heard Tom calling. We could see him, too, and he was waving his arms and calling out as if he was in pain, and when we ran in, he just looked at us a minute and then started off into the woods as fast as he could go. He must be sick, Ethan. Come on, we'll help you look for him."

"Was he a-sayin' anything?" inquired the fisherman, still for some unaccountable reason not much aroused by the startling announcement.

"Saying anything?" exclaimed Bert. "I should say he was. He was calling and groaning. Why, we could hear him way up the shore. He must be in trouble. Come, Ethan; come on! We'll all help you."

"Was he a-sayin' anything? I mean any words like?"

"Yes, I believe he was," said Bob. "We could make out a few words."

"What was they?"

"Oh, he said something about 'to be' or something like that. We didn't stop to listen much. The poor fellow was in such distress. What are you waiting for, Ethan? Why don't you come on?"

"That's jest what I thought. Tom was sayin' his Hamlick."

"Saying what?"

"His Hamlick. Don' ye know what that is? Hamlick's a dialogue or a play. I don' know who writ it, but Tom does. The young folks over to the Corners is goin' to give a exhibition, and Hamlick's the one they decided on. Tom is to be Hamlick, and he was jest a-practisin' his piece."

For a moment the boys gazed blankly at one another, and then all but Bob rushed from the dock as if they too had been stricken by the same evil disease which they feared had seized upon Tom.

Bob, however, remained with Ethan, and with his face as expressionless as he could make it at times, inquired soberly,--

"When is this play going to be given, Ethan?"

"Oh, I don' know. Some time this summer, I suppose. They 'most always give somethin' while the summer boarders is here, and this year the walks needed fixin' up in the Corners some, so they--I mean the young folks, o' course--decided to give Hamlick; and Tom he's to be the Hamlick in chief. Ever hear that dialogue down to your place?"

"Yes, I believe I have. I've heard of it, anyway."

"I thought likely. Pretty good thing, isn't it?"

"I believe it is thought to be a very good one. We shall want to know when it is to be given so that we can all come over and see it."

"I'll let ye know when it comes off."

Ethan suddenly placed a finger in his mouth and emitted a shrill whistle. "I guess that'll call up Tom," he explained.

A repetition of the signal brought the reluctant Tom from the woods, and as he approached the dock he gazed in a shame-faced way at Bob, as if he expected him to say something about what had happened; but Bob's face was still expressionless, to the evident comfort of the young fisherman.

"Step lively here, Tom," called his father. "We must get these trunks and things up to the camp afore night. You 'most scared these boys to death with your Hamlick," he added.

"Your father has been telling us about the play you are to give at the Corners, Tom," said Bob, quietly. "We shall want to come over and see it. You mustn't fail to let us know when it is to be given."

Somewhat reassured by the kind manner of Bob, Tom was more at his ease and at once began to assist his father in transferring the cargo of the little boat to the camp.

The other boys now returned, but a warning look from Bob caused them all to be silent about the recent occurrence. In a brief time the trunks had been placed in the tent where they belonged, the canoes were left on the shore, and then Ethan and Tom began to prepare supper.

The appetites of the boys apparently were as keen as they had been at noon time, and the rapidity with which the table was cleared was a delight to Ethan's heart. Neither Hamlick nor the Ghost could interfere now, for the demands of their hunger were supreme.

Soon after supper Ethan and Tom departed for the night, promising to return at daybreak in time to prepare breakfast and be ready for the fishing which was to be done on the following day. The boys stood on the shore and watched the boat as it sped away over the river, and then when it had disappeared from sight they all turned and demanded of Bob the explanation of Hamlick.

But Bob was in no mood to banter, and so he soberly related what Ethan had told him about the efforts of the "young folks" at the Corners to do something which should aid in improving the little hamlet in which they dwelt. Somehow it all appeared in a different light now, and the merriment was soon gone.

"I'm going to have a paddle in one of the canoes before I go to bed," exclaimed Jock, as he leaped up from the bank on which they were all seated.

As the other boys had had no experience in that sport, they all stood on the dock, eagerly watching their comrade as he took his seat in the light little canoe and wielding his paddle swept swiftly over the water.

"Did you ever see anything like that!" exclaimed Ben, delightedly. "'It's like a feather on the water or a leaf upon the stream,' or something like that we had in our English last spring at school. Isn't it fine!"

"Yes, and how easily Jock does it too," added Bob, with a wink at Bert as he spoke. "Travelling like that is just fun."

"I wonder if I can't do it," said Ben, looking longingly at the other canoe, which was still on the bank.

"You can try it, can't you?" drawled Bob. "Nothing like trying, you know. It's a knack, that's all, and you have to be careful. Shall I help you bring the other canoe down to the dock?"

Ben glanced once more at Jock, who could be seen far out on the river, and the sight served to increase his eagerness. "Yes; come on, fellows. If you'll help me, I'll try it, anyhow."

In a moment the canoe was lifted and carried down to the dock. Then Bob held one end of it securely and Bert the other, while Ben cautiously took his seat in the middle. A shout from Jock caused them all to look up, and they could see that he was paddling toward them with all the speed he could summon.

"Perhaps he's calling for you to come out and meet him," said Bob, soberly.

"I'll do it," said Ben, eagerly, "and then race him for the dock. Push her out, boys!" he added gleefully, as he grasped his paddle.

The canoe shot out from the dock, and the boys stood eagerly watching Ben as he drove his paddle deep into the water.

"Look out there, Ben!" shouted Bob. "Remember, you'll have to keep your balance."

"Be careful, Ben! Look to your paddling!" called Bert.

"Don't tip her so much to one side!"

"Ease up, there! Don't lean so far over!"

"Sit up! Lean back! Lie down! Tip over!" called Bob, soothingly.

"Go up the river! Go down the stream! Come ashore! Turn around! Go ahead!" shouted Bert, encouragingly.

But poor Ben was too much occupied with his own efforts to heed the confusing calls of his companions. Twice the little canoe had almost capsized, but somehow Ben had managed to keep it afloat, though he had abandoned all efforts to paddle and was only striving to keep his craft above the water.

"I say, you fellows!" he called in despair. "I can't manage this--Hi!" he added, as the canoe gave a lurch and almost went over. "Throw me' a rope! Come out and help me!"

"I can't, my dear, though much I wish, For, oh, you've tied my hands,"

sang Bob, mockingly.

"Oh, come ashore, Ben, if you can't go ahead," called Bert, soothingly. "You won't tip over. I'll risk it! I'll risk it!"

"You risk noth--" began Ben, desperately; but his exclamation was not completed, for as the canoe gave a sudden lurch to one side the unfortunate lad leaned to the other to assist it in righting itself. He leaned too far, however, and then strove to reverse the weight. His actions were frantic now, and it seemed as if there could be but one result, and that must come soon.

"It's going!" shouted Ben, in despair.

"So I see," called Bob, encouragingly. "Keep it up, Ben! what you need is practice. Practice makes perfect, you know. Keep it up! Keep it up!"

"I'm going! I'm going! I'm go--" shouted Ben.

It was evident that he had spoken truly. For a time or two he succeeded in righting his craft, but each effort seemed to make his condition worse. Suddenly the canoe went over; the paddle in Ben's hands flew out over the water, and then the lad's long legs and feet appeared to be lifted into the air, and waved frantically for a moment before, with a circular movement, they followed their owner and quickly disappeared in the river.

"Going, going, gone!" called Bob, solemnly, as he gazed out over the water at the place where his friend had disappeared.

Ben was an expert swimmer, much the best of the four, so that they had no fears for his safety; and the ludicrous sight of those long legs, with what Bob called "their despairing appeal to come over and help us," disappearing in the St. Lawrence, was more than either could endure. They burst into shrieks of laughter. They hugged each other in their delight, and even Bob laughed until the tears rolled down his cheeks.

But Ben speedily appeared, and as he started out for the dock, Bert called to him, "Your canoe's going down the river, Ben; so's your paddle."

"The proper way, my friend, to paddle a canoe is from the upper, not the under, side," said Bob, soothingly. "Take my advice, Ben."

Ben was for taking the canoe, however, which already was drifting away from him; but as he started to swim toward it, Jock swept past him, and, calling to him to go ashore, said that he would get both canoe and paddle.

When Ben climbed in his dripping clothes up on the dock, the laughter of the boys was renewed.

"You'd have done all right, Ben, if you'd left those feet and legs of yours ashore. They were in the way. There are some things even the St. Lawrence won't stand."

"You wait," said Ben, doggedly. "I'll show you yet."

And "show" them he did. As soon as the canoe was restored he insisted upon repeating his experience. It was true that he was capsized again, but he sturdily stuck to his task, and in an hour had, in a measure, mastered the problem, and was able to paddle swiftly up and down the river.

It was dark now, and the boys were soon ready for bed. A pile of logs had been placed before their tent, and as soon as the other boys were in their cots, Jock started the fire. The light of the flames could be seen far out over the river, and it was long before sleep came to the campers. The sighing of the wind in the tree-tops, the rush of the mighty waters, the constant lapping of the little waves upon the shore, the twinkling stars, which could be seen beyond the waving branches, were all novel and strange. Then, too, when some of the boys would be ready for sleep, others would not feel so inclined. They would leave their tent and fire their guns at imaginary enemies or wild beasts. The school cheer, and even the school songs, had to be given again and again, but at last even these experiences became monotonous, and the tired boys slept.

It was not long after dawn on the following morning when Jock and Ben sat up in their beds and looked about them. Both of their companions were gone, but the sounds that came from the river left no doubt as to their whereabouts. Hastily dressing, both boys ran down to the shore and there beheld their friends, clad in their bathing-suits, and practising the art of paddling a canoe without departing from the craft when it was in motion.

Apparently both boys had already succeeded, but even their efforts were ignored when Ethan and Tom were discovered approaching in their sailboat, and all knew that not only would the breakfast for which they were eager soon be ready now, but that their first efforts in fishing in the St. Lawrence would soon be put to the test.