Part 8

On understanding the difficulty about the boat, he at once set himself to work remedying it. He found the rollers which the boys had used, and the poles; and then, with Phil’s assistance, he began to push her down toward the water. It was far easier pushing her down than it had been pulling her up, and the boat soon reached the water’s edge.

“We lost our oar, and we were making another. I don’t know whether you can use it or not,” said Phil. “Wait here, and I’ll go and get it.”

On bringing it, Dennis found it quite rough, of course, but still capable of working the boat along. So he launched the boat, and Phil jumped in, and Dennis followed; and in a short time the boat touched the vessel’s side. The current just here was not strong, for it was half tide, and the vessel was very close to the shore. Phil was dragged on board by a dozen hands, and nearly suffocated by their rapturous greetings.

Mr. O’Rafferty then explained again where the other boys were, and invited all on board to come to his house and meet them. His invitation was eagerly complied with. Another oar was found on board, and soon Messrs. Simmons and Long, with all the boys, were on the beach.

Then they started. Phil insisted on showing the camp and the signal station, and told them all about their experience in shell-fish and lobsters.

Then they followed O’Rafferty across the island to his house.

On the way, Mr. Long told Phil all about the dismal voyage of the schooner after them. After cruising all about the Basin of Minas on the previous day, they had decided to come back to the Five Islands, and search along the shores, with the hope of finding them, or at least some traces of them. They had been watching the shore of this island so closely, that they had seen the first flash of the fire on the signal station. When they saw the red shirt by it, and then the figure climbing the tree, they knew that their search was at last successful. He made Phil tell him, over and over again, all about his own eventful escape, and shuddered to think how extreme their peril had been.

The walk over O’Rafferty’s path was a most delightful one to all. The fearful cloud, that had so long hung over them, was at last dispelled, and in their reaction from sorrow, they all felt the wildest extreme of joy. So the boys went on with shouts, and songs, and laughter, till they reached their destination.

There the others had finished their repast, and were waiting for Phil. Great was their amazement to see the crowd. At once all was explained. With a wild cry of delight, they rushed to meet their friends, and their hands were nearly shaken off by their excited comrades.

Mr. O’Rafferty then left them, and Mrs. O’Rafferty prepared a repast for the company. But first she set before Phil the good things that she had been saving for him; and, though that young gentleman had disposed of an immense quantity of sandwiches, he yet was able--thanks to his excellent appetite and vigorous constitution--to do full justice to Mrs. O’Rafferty’s tea and cream, and brown crusty bread and golden butter, and rich bacon, and mealy potatoes. Then the table was once more spread for the other guests; and they found the repast an agreeable change from the ship stores on which they had been feeding. To tell the truth, there were many among the company who were as famished, and had eaten quite as little, during the last twenty or thirty hours, as the castaways themselves.

They then strolled about the fields and along the beach, till suddenly a shout from one of the boys attracted the attention of all.

There, coming round the point, was the familiar form of the Antelope, her boat towed behind her once more; Captain Corbet, the mate, and O’Rafferty on board, and the black flag of the “B. O. W. C.” floating gloriously aloft.

“It’s been there all the time,” said Billymack. “Wasn’t it odd? Mr. Long wouldn’t let any one pull it down.”

“And all the schooners laughed at us,” said Bogud. “It was such nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” said Bart. “Far from it, Bogud. There’s good luck in that emblem. So long as it floats on the breeze, we’ll turn out all right.”

“If you call this good luck, I should like to know what bad luck is.”

Here the anchor rattled, and all the boys ran to the beach.

When the time came for them to leave, O’Rafferty was in despair. He wanted them to stay at least one night. But Mr. Long could not. They had already lost much time, and must make amends for it. They had to go that evening to Pratt’s Cove. So O’Raflerty consoled himself by extorting a promise that the next time they came to the Five Islands they would anchor off his beach, and stop at least two days with him.

Meanwhile the boys had a long debate as to what they could give to O’Raflerty. To offer money would be an insult. They had to select from among their possessions something that would be appropriate for a parting gift. Bart proposed his pistol, but it was considered as not adapted to be of use to O’Rafferty. At last it was decided to give him the hatchet. A hatchet would always be useful; and it was so pretty a little tool, that it would be in itself a graceful keepsake. So Bart, with his jackknife, cut into the handle, very, neatly, the initials of the different members of the “B. O. W. C.,” and handed the gift to the old man.

“You won’t refuse it,” said Bart, “will you, Mr. O’Rafferty?” And he explained the initial letters to him.

Tears started to the old man’s eyes.

“It’s fairly heart-broken I am to part wid ye; but I’ll take the hatchet to remember yer sweet faces by, and wid the hope that you won’t forget owld O’Rafferty. And many’s the drame I’ll be draimin’ about yes, till me owld eyes gets a look at yes again.”

“An’ may the blessin’s av Heaven go wid yes all, ye darlin’s av the worruld,” ejaculated the old woman. “It’s meself that’ll pray for yes, that the Lard ‘ll stan’ betune yes and harrum. I’ll be lookin’ out for yes all another year, jewels; an’ I’ll have such crame, chayse, an’ such maily taters, as ye never saw the like of before.”

The old couple wrung the hands of all of them, and watched them embark. Soon all were on board. Then the anchor went up, and up went the sails. The schooner started, and moved slowly away.

And as she moved away, the boys saw the old couple standing on the beach waving farewells. There they stood till the vessel rounded a promontory which shut them from sight.

They were on their way to Pratt’s Cove.

XI.

_Pratt’s Cove.--A Dinner Party.--The faithless Cook and Steward.--Songs.--Sudden and startling Interruption.--Stealing a Wood-pile.--Overwhelming Piece of Intelligence._

THE wind and tide were both, rather unfavorable, and it was late before they reached Pratt’s Cove. This place is formed by the bed of a creek which runs up from the bay, and, like all the streams of these waters, is subject to very great variations, being fordable at low tide, but at high tide deep enough to float a ship. It was half tide when they arrived, and the schooner was able to run a little way up the stream, where she anchored. It was quite dark, but they could see that the nearest land was a projecting point, clear of trees, and promising a pleasanter camping-ground than the hold of the schooner. It was therefore unanimously decided to go ashore, kindle a fire, and pass as festive an evening as possible. The shore was close by, and in a very short time they were all out of the vessel. Plenty of fuel lay there in the shape of a long pile of dry birch wood which lay heaped up along the shore. To this they helped themselves, kindled an enormous fire, and were soon seated around it, waiting for their evening repast.

At the outset of the trip, Johnny Blue and Sammy Ram

Ram had been appointed steward and cook, owing to their personal application for those very honorable offices. Their duties had been very light; in fact, partly on account of rough weather, and partly owing to the anxiety of the previous day, there had been little or no occasion for their services. It was therefore expected that on the present occasion they would surpass themselves and astonish everybody by the brilliancy of their performance. As the party sat round the fire waiting for their repast, they all anticipated something of extraordinary excellence, and were impatient for the banquet to begin. Sammy and Johnny Blue, however, made no very great haste. In fact, it seemed to some that they were astonishingly slow, if not reluctant. Slowly they turned over the things, slowly they opened and shut the boxes and baskets, and very slowly indeed they took out the dishes.

“See here, you fellows,” cried Bruce, suddenly. “You don’t appear to be aware of the fact that we’re all starving.”

“Hurry up your cakes!” cried another.

“Come, be quick about it, Sammy Ram Ram! What’s the use of being so particular?”

“Tumble out the things any way! We don’t want a regular set table.”

Sammy and Johnny quickened their motions a little, and said they would be ready “in a minute.”

Meanwhile Messrs. Simmons and Long, assisted by the devoted Bogud, had been sorting their minerals’ in a general way, and wrapping each specimen in paper. Two good-sized baskets were filled, and many of them were very fine indeed. There were some fern prints, and some tracks of birds on sandstone, which Mr. Long had found, and which he regarded with the tenderest admiration. There was a very excellent amethyst, found by Mr. Simmons, some mica, some barytes, and, above all, a piece of quartz, in which faint flecks of gold were visible. It was taken from a vein which ran up the cliff, and was a foot or more in thickness. It seemed to promise a rich gold harvest to any one who might choose to try gold-crushing in so remote a place.

The tender interest excited by all these treasures, and the occupation of putting them into separate baskets, had so fully engrossed their thoughts, that they had not noticed any particular delay. At last, however, the work was done; and then it was that Mr. Long thought about the claims of appetite.

He started to his feet.

“What!” he cried, as he looked around; “not ready yet? Why, what’s the matter?”

“In a minute,” said Sammy Ram Ram.

“Yes, yes--in a minute,” chimed in Johnny Blue.

“A minute? Well, that’s longer than I can wait. So come along, all of us!” said Mr. Long, advancing to the place where a cloth had been spread. The rest all followed.

There was a very meagre repast--in fact, but the beginning of a repast--before them.

“Come, hurry up!” said Mr. Long, as he and Mr. Simmons, followed by the rest, threw themselves on the grass around the table-cloth. “Fetch along some of the turkey and chickens quick!” There was no response. Sammy and Johnny both stood looking excessively guilty.

“Come, hurry up! We can’t eat ham and-biscuit. Why, what’s the matter?”

“Why--there--there isn’t any,” stammered Sammy.

“What’s that?” cried Mr. Long.

“The turkey--it’s all gone, sir.”

“Gone!” cried Mr. Long, in amazement. “What do you mean?”

And twelve astonished faces confronted the cook and steward.

“Why, sir,” said the cook, “you see we ate a good many before we started.”

“Yes, sir. There were eight turkeys eaten that evening and next morning.”

“And fifteen chickens, sir.”

“And ten mince pies,” added the steward, gathering courage at the sound of his own voice.

“And all the cheese,” responded the cook. “And most of the tarts.”

“And a good deal of the cake.”

“And a good many of the ham sandwiches, and half of the eggs, and--”

“And ever so much ginger beer.”

“The boys were, eating, sir, steadily through the night.”

“And through the next day, till they got sick, and couldn’t eat any more.”

To this all present listened in the utmost astonishment, and without saying a single word.

“So we ate most of the things before we left--did we?” asked Mr. Long, with a sour smile. “Yes, sir.”

“How many turkeys did we leave with?”

“Seven, sir.”

“And how many chickens?”

“Four, sir.”

“And how many mince pies?”

“Eight, sir.”

“Have we eaten all these since?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well,” said Jiggins, “all day yesterday I only ate one ham sandwich, and to-day only a turkey drumstick, except at O’Rafferty’s.”

“I ate a mince pie yesterday,” said Billymack “and another one to-day--that’s all.”

“Well, well, I’m not inquiring into what you ate, boys,” said Mr. Long, good-humoredly. “I was only amazed to find that our stores had gone so fast. We’ll have to live on clams, or go home, unless we can buy some provisions here. Well, well,” he concluded, with a sigh, “we’ll have to attack this ham bone. Here, cook; isn’t there any more ham left?”

“One more, sir.”

“Any pie?”

“A half of a mince pie, sir.”

“Hm--well--we’ll have to wait till to-morrow--that’s all. It’s my own fault, I suppose. I didn’t make allowance for the appetites of growing boys.”

“Especially of the cook and steward,” growled Bogud.

They had to bear with their disappointment as best they could. The cook and steward looked very meek and subdued, for though nothing was said, yet they felt that they were under a ban. The repast consisted of nothing but bread and butter, and ham, and cold water. But still, as they all had excellent appetites, they ate with a relish what was before them, and had no trouble, except about provisioning the ship for the future. It was tacitly understood, however, that Sammy Ram Ram and Johnny Blue should be henceforth relieved from these onerous and responsible duties. The repast was at length finished, and Messrs. Simmons and Long went aside to take another look at their beloved specimens, and speculate upon the probabilities of gold-mining at the Five Islands. The others sat round the fire. Captain Corbet sat, with a patriarchal smile, surveying the young faces around him. The mate sat among a crowd of noisy lads, who were trying to draw him out.

“Yes,” he said, in continuation of some statement which he was making, “it’s true. I’m tellin’--”

“And that’s your name--is it?” asked Billymack.

“My name’s Wade,” said the mate, “an’ my old ’oman’s name’s Gipson; and ye’ll not find many of that name in this counthry. No, sir.”

“But how can your name be Wade, and your old ’oman’s name be Gipson?”

“How? because my name _is_ Wade, and me old ’oman’s name _is_ Gipson.”

“But she’s your wife--ain’t she?”

“My own wife--married be me brother the praste.”

“Then she must be Mrs. Wade.”

“I tell ye her name’s Gipson.”

“If she’s your wife, she must be named Wade.”

“I tell ye _me_ name’s Wade, and me old ’oman’s name’s Gipson; an’ ye’ll not find many o’ that name in this counthry.”

And so the mate prosed on, unable to see that his wife’s name was the same as his own.

And now fresh wood was heaped upon the fire. Some went off and gathered brush, and the bright, flaring flame burst forth, rising far into the sky, and throwing a vivid light. Then they all sat round’ it, watching the flames as they shot up and illuminated the scene, throwing a gleam of radiance across the water, and lighting up the old schooner as she lay afloat.

Then a song was proposed. Captain Corbet opened the proceedings by one of his own peculiar harmonies, which was received with loud laughter and cheers. Others then, sang; and finally they called on Bart for “Bingo,” a favorite song with all. So Bart sang Bingo, and they all joined in the chorus.

“A farmer’s dog sat on the floor,

And his name was little Bingo;

A farmer’s dog sat on the floor,

And his name was little Bingo.

Bart. B!

Bruce. I!!

Arthur. Nil!

Tom. G!!!!

Omnes. O! O! O! O! O!

‘And his name was little Bingo!

“This farmer he brewed right good ale,

And called it rare old Stingo;

This farmer he brewed right good ale,

And called it rare old-Stingo.

Bart. S!

Bruce. T!!

Arthur. I!!!

Tom. N !!!!

Phil. G!!!!!

Omnes. O! O! O! O! O!

And called it rare old Stingo!

Bart. “Now, don’t you call this a merry tale?

Omnes. We think it is, by jingo!

Bart. O, don’t you call this a merry tale?

Omnes. We think it is, by jingo!

Bart. J!

Bruce. I!!

Arthur.

Tom.

Omnes. NO! O! O! O! O!

“We think it is, by jingo!”

As the last chorus, roared out in tremendous tones, burst into the air and ceased, it was followed by a sudden roar of thundering laughter coming from some strange voice from the direction of the wood-pile. In an instant every one had started to his feet, and looked in amazement for the cause of the noise.

There, on the top of the wood-pile, stood a stout, burly, red-faced man, laughing, and stamping, and clapping his hands. It was a long time before he could gain breath, to speak. At length he conquered his laughter, and shaking his fist, he bawled out,--

“See here, you young rascals! What do you mean by coming here and burning up my wood? Hey!”

At this Mr. Long came forward, and Captain Corbet followed. Mr. Long introduced himself, explained the situation, apologized, and offered to pay.

This the stranger laughingly listened to.

“Pooh, pooh! Mr. Long. I’m delighted to see you, sir,” he said. “Don’t apologize for the wood. You’re welcome to all of it. I’m Captain Pratt, and I want you to come up to my house, and put up there as long as you like. As for the wood, I’ll give you free liberty to burn it, on condition that the boys sing that song again.”

Captain Pratt now advanced among them, and his bluff manner, hearty laughter, and stentorian voice at once made him a great favorite. He informed them that he was the owner of the cove and all the region round about; that he had a sawmill up the stream; that he had a schooner which was away; and finally he insisted that they all should go at once to his house, and take up their quarters there for as long a time as they liked.

This invitation was unanimously accepted, with thanks from the teachers and cheers from the boys. So, leaving Captain Corbet and the mate to extinguish the fire, to prevent danger to the wood-pile, they followed Captain Pratt through the darkness to his house.

It was a small-sized farm-house, where Captain Pratt and his wife lived by themselves. He had three beds, into one of which he proposed to put Messrs. Simmons and Long, leaving the other beds and a huge kitchen sofa for the twelve boys. Captain Corbet and the mate could sleep on the vessel. The boys succeeded in packing themselves away in some extraordinary fashion or other; and though they would have had far more real comfort on board of the schooner, yet they preferred this for the novelty of the thing.

On the following day, the first care was to secure a supply of provisions. Captain Pratt had a rude sort of shop, in which he kept supplies for the mill, but unfortunately the stock was low; but the schooner was expected every day with fresh stores. All that the shop contained, at present, was some meal and molasses, with a box of tobacco and a barrel of pork. Out of these they had to select the ship stores; and as they had only Hobson’s choice, they laid in some meal, molasses, and pork. Captain Corbet tried hard to induce them to lay in some tobacco also, but Mr. Long declined.

Strolling about the cove, they found it a very pretty place, encircled by hills which were covered with hard-wood trees. A stream ran from among the hills into the creek, supplying it with a little fresh water, which at low tide was the only water in its bed. Going up the stream a short distance, they came to a very romantic spot, where the stream ran through a narrow gorge, and tumbled over a small precipice, forming a miniature cascade of a very charming kind. Here the boys spent a greater part of the day in fishing, and succeeded, after six hours’ laborious effort and patient waiting on the part of ten of them, in catching five very small trout.

After getting the supplies for the schooner, Messrs. Simmons and Long went along the shore to a place which Captain Corbet told them of, where they expected to secure some petrifactions. Captain Corbet went with them as guide. The mate took possession of the barn, and slept all the time.

As for the boys, two of them, Bogud and Billy-mack, went with the teachers by special invitation, for the others preferred remaining. Six hours were consumed in fishing, and the remainder of the time in dawdling. They _did_ Pratt’s Cove so thoroughly that there was not a nook unexplored.

On the following night, the “B. O. W. C.” decided to quit Captain Pratt’s house and sleep in the schooner. So they went down about dusk, and were put on board by Jiggins, who brought back the boat to the shore.

Messrs. Simmons and Long did not return that night, nor yet on the following morning. About ten o’clock they got back. They were met by Captain Pratt and the five boys who had slept at his house. They had very serious faces.

It seems that Captain Pratt had been down at eight o’clock to call the boys to breakfast. He found the schooner gone, and on the mud flats, left dry by the tide, lay the fluke of the anchor broken off short. This was the message that he brought, explaining, at the same time, that the boys had slept on board, and must have drifted away with the schooner.

XII.

_On the Track again.--Fishing for a Duck.--Asking for Bread, and getting Stones.--Pat shines as Cook._

AT receiving such startling intelligence, both Messrs’. Simmons and Long looked horrified and bewildered, and neither of them said one word.

“At any rate, the mate’s on board,” said Mr. Long at last.

“The mate! That’s the wrorst of it. He got his breakfast only a half an hour go. He slept in my barn.”

“And where has the vessel gone?” cried Mr. Long, in great distress.

“I can’t tell. I rowed out for a mile, but didn’t see any signs of her.”

“We must go after them at once,” said Mr. Long. “Can’t we get a sail-boat somewhere?”

“I suppose I can rig up a sail in my boat; but she’s only a punt, and I don’t think wo could manage her at all among the currents out there.”

“I wonder if they know anything about sailing?”

“No doubt they do,” said Captain Pratt.

“O, they’re all right,” said Captain Corbet, confidently. “I said, when they went adrift before, that they’d turn up right side up--and up they turned. Besides, the weather’s fine, and there’s no danger in life.”

“Still we must do something,” said Mr. Long, anxiously. “Even if they do understand sailing, they can never get back here again.”

“It’s jest what I’ve been expectin’,” said Captain Corbet, after a profound silence, and with a tone of deep conviction.

“What?”

“Why, that there anchor.”

“What did you expect?”

“Why, that it would break off short. You see there’s been a crack in it for nigh two years, an’ every time I used it, I said, says I, it’s bound to go this time.”

“But why in Heaven’s name did you let it go so long, if it was cracked?”

“Wal, to tell the truth, I never gave it a thought, ’cept when I had occasion to anchor,--and then, of course, I couldn’t get it mended.”

“And so you’ve been trusting your own life, and the lives of other people, to that old, cracked anchor,” cried Mr. Long, indignantly.

“Wal, it held on well down thar at Five Islands, and off on the mud-flats. You know that. It did jest as well as a bran new one, and didn’t break fair this time, nuther.”

“Didn’t break fair! What do you mean?”

“Why, I mean the schooner has kind o’ sot on it when she was aground, and broke it that way.”

Mr. Long turned away.

“Captain Pratt,” said he, “I won’t conceal from you that I’m very anxious. Those boys may understand sailing, but I’m not sure that they do. I must do something. Can’t you suggest anything?”

“Well, I was just going to take my glass,” said Captain Pratt, “and go down to that there pint,” pointing to a headland a few miles off. “That pint commands a view of pooty nigh the whole bay, and I shouldn’t wonder if we’d see the schooner. I was just going there when you came. Besides, we can get a boat down there,--a good deal better than mine.”