The Swan And Her Crew Part 11

When they had made all snug, they set out for a walk through the town, and as the quay-side was not so pleasant as the open country, they determined not to sleep on board the yacht this night, but to sleep at an hotel. They therefore went to one by the beach and engaged beds. They then ordered and ate an uncommonly good dinner, at the close of which the waiter intimated to them that he had never seen any young gentlemen before who had such good appet.i.tes. After a due amount of rest they set out for a stroll. Presently they met a boy with a nest in his hand, which was evidently that of a long-tailed t.i.t. They watched the boy join a gang of other boys, and after some conversation they took a number of tiny white eggs out of the nest, and arranged them on the ground in a row.

"By Jove, they are going to play 'hookey smash' with them. What heathens!" said Frank. The boy who had brought the eggs now took a stick and made a shot at one of the eggs, and smash it went. Another boy took a stick and prepared to have his turn.

"I say, I can't stand this," said Frank. "Let us make a rush and rescue the eggs," and suiting the action to the word, he ran forward, and with a well-applied shove of his foot to the inviting target which a stooping boy presented to him, he sent him rolling into the gutter. Jimmy picked up the nest and eggs, and then the three found themselves like Horatius and his two companions when they kept the bridge against Lars Porsena and his host, "facing fearful odds" in the shape of a dozen yelling street-boys.

Frank was a big lad for his age, and he stood in such an excellent boxing position, his blue eyes gleaming with such a Berserker rage, and Jimmy and d.i.c.k backed him so manfully, that their opponents quailed, and dared not attack them save with foul language, of which they had a plentiful supply at command. Seeing that their enemies deemed discretion the better part of valour, our three heroes linked themselves arm in arm, and marched home with their heads very high in air, and with a conscious feeling of superiority.

"What are you laughing at, d.i.c.k?" said Frank.

"At the cool way in which you robbed those fellows of their eggs. You had no right to do so. They _will_ wonder why you did it."

"Let them wonder. I was so savage at their spoiling those beautiful eggs in such a brutal manner. At the same time I acknowledge that it wasn't my business, no more than if it were their own ha'pence they were smas.h.i.+ng, but all the same I feel that we have done a very meritorious action."

They now found themselves at the quay-side, and they stopped there some time, being much struck by the scene which presented itself to them as they gazed out over Breydon Water. The tide was flowing in rapidly, and Breydon was one vast lake, at the further end of which, five miles away, the rivers Waveney and Yare joined it, and, at the end near Yarmouth, the Bure, down which they had just sailed. The breeze had risen to a gale, and as it met the incoming tide it raised a sharp popply sea. The sun was setting red and splendid over the far end behind a ma.s.s of black fiery-edged cloud, through rents in which the brilliant light fell upon the tossing waste of waters, and tipped each wave-crest with crimson.

Above the cloud the sky was of a delicate pale green, in which floated cloudlets or bars of gold, which were scarcely more ethereal-looking than the birds which breasted the gale with wavering flight. Out of the sunset light there came a gallant array of vessels making for the shelter of Yarmouth. Dark-sailed wherries with their peaks lowered and their sails half mast high, and yachts with every possible reef taken in, all das.h.i.+ng along at a great pace, notwithstanding the opposing tide, and each with a white lump of foam at its bows. The parallel rows of posts which marked the sailing course stood out gaunt and grim, like warders of the sunset gates, and the whole scene was wild and impressive. It so moved d.i.c.k, that when they got back to their hotel he sat down, and tried his hand at making some verses descriptive of it.

They are not good enough to quote, but Frank and Jimmy both thought them very good, only they were not impartial critics.

As they were sitting in the coffee-room that evening, Jimmy said that he should like to see how many feathers the long-tailed t.i.t's nest contained. It looked a regular hatful, and he wondered how the tiny bird could have had the patience to collect so many. So he drew a small table aside, and sat himself down at it with the nest before him, and then set to work to count the feathers, putting them in a pile at his right side as he did so. d.i.c.k joined him, and the two worked away for a long time at the monotonous task of counting. The feathers as they were piled up loosely on the table formed a big feather-heap.

Frank grew tired of watching them, and a wicked idea entered his head.

The window near which they sat encountered the whole force of the wind.

Frank lounged up to it, and, under cover of a question, undid the latch.

"How many are there?" he asked.

"We have counted 2,000, and there are about 300 more. We shall soon finish."

"Shall you, indeed," said Frank, as he opened the window. The wind rushed in, and catching the light feathers scattered them all over the room, which was full of people, some reading, some eating, and some enjoying a nightcap of toddy. The feathers stuck everywhere--on the food, in the gla.s.ses, sticking on hair and clothes, and tickling noses, and causing universal consternation.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LONG-TAILED t.i.t AND EGG.]

"Here's a pretty kettle of fis.h.!.+" said Jimmy, looking up in dismay. "How could you, Frank?"

But Frank had vanished out of the window laughing incontinently, and d.i.c.k and Jimmy were left alone to bear the storm of expostulations and reproaches with which they were favoured by the company, who thought the whole affair was premeditated.

CHAPTER XII.

Yarmouth.--The "Rows".--A Stiff Breeze.--An Exciting Sail.-- Sparrow-hawk's Nest.--A Nasty Fall.--Long-eared Owl.-- Partridge.--Sandpiper.

Yarmouth is a queer old semi-Dutch town, and is often compared in shape to a gridiron, the bars of that article corresponding to the "Rows"

which are such a peculiar feature of Yarmouth. These rows stretching across from the quay-side to the princ.i.p.al street are very narrow, yet contain the houses and shops of a great portion of the population. Many are only wide enough for foot pa.s.sengers but along others, carts of a peculiar construction can pa.s.s. These carts are very long and narrow, and have only two wheels, and a stranger seeing them for the first time would wonder what they were for.

Below Breydon Water the river narrows very much, and flows past numerous fish-wharves and quays to the sea. The tide rises up this narrow neck with great force, and were it not for the safety-valve which is afforded by the vast expanse of Breydon Water, where the tide can expand and waste its force, it would rush on and flood the low-lying marshes for miles up the river.

The boys had resolved to start on their voyage up Breydon Water at ten o'clock in the morning, when the tide would be making and would help them on their way, but when they had staggered down to their boat in the teeth of a fierce north-wester, and saw Breydon white with foam, torn off short snappy waves caused by the meeting of wind and tide, they were rather dismayed, and held a council of war as to what should be done.

Not a sail could be seen on the wide expanse of Breydon Water. The sky was of a hard and pitiless blue, and clearly foretold a continuance of the gale.

"Shall we venture or not?" said Frank.

"What do you feel inclined to do yourself?" asked Jimmy.

"Well, I don't think there is any great risk. We will take every reef in, and the tide will be in our favour. It will be a good trial for the yacht too. If we can get to the top of Breydon against this gale we shall have every reason to be satisfied with her. I am game to try."

"So am I," said Jimmy.

"Then if you are, I am," said d.i.c.k.

"That's right. Then do you make all snug on board, while I run back to the town. I have something to buy," and off he went.

In a short time he returned with a small life-belt in his hand.

"Here, this is for you, d.i.c.k. Jimmy and I swim so well that there is no danger for us, but you cannot swim so very far yet, so you had better wear this in case of a capsize, though I don't expect one. Now, are you ready?"

"Yes."

"Then, Jimmy, do you take the main-sheet, and you, d.i.c.k, take the mizen-sheet, and I will cast off."

The sails were hoisted, and everything made taut and trim. Frank undid the moorings, and jumped on board, seizing the tiller just as the yacht's head turned from the sh.o.r.e, and she heeled over before the wind.

No sooner was she free from the quay than she seemed to be at the opposite side of the river, at such a pace did the wind impel her.

Although her raft-like frame gave her so much stability, yet she heeled over until her deck to leeward was in the water. She came back on the opposite tack with the speed of a racehorse. Frank said,--

"I say, she fairly seems to run away from us. Quick, loose the sheet, Jimmy! Here's a squall!" and the yacht ran up into the wind, and her sails fluttered as Frank kept her so until the gust had pa.s.sed. They were soon out in the open water of Breydon, and were able to take longer tacks. This gave them some ease, but they found that the _Swan_ was not a "dry" boat. Her lowness and flat shape caused her to "s.h.i.+p" the short curling seas. They, of course, pa.s.sed over her deck harmlessly, but nevertheless they made her wet and uncomfortable. As long, however, as she was safe and sailed well, the boys did not mind this at all, and they stuck to their work bravely, handling their yacht with great skill and courage.

Large portions of Breydon are dry at low tide, and are there called "muds," or "flats." On these muds flocks of sea-fowl congregate.

"These are capital places in the winter for wild-fowl shooting," said Frank, "we must have a day's sport here in the next hard frost. Bell will come with us, and show us some good fun, I am sure."

"My father has a big swivel duck-gun somewhere about. If that will be of any use I will look it up," said d.i.c.k.

"Of course it will be of use, old man. Just the thing we want. Haul in her sheet, Jimmy. We can sail a point nearer to the wind, if we choose.

I say, this is fine! What m.u.f.fs we were to think that there was any danger, or that the yacht could not do it. See how well she behaves! But there, I am putting her too full, and she was very nearly capsized. The man at the wheel must not speak, so don't talk to me."

"This may be fine fun for you, Frank, but my hands have nearly all the skin taken off them by the rope. It is jolly hard work holding on to this, I can tell you," said Jimmy, who, indeed, had got his work cut out for him.

"Same here," said d.i.c.k; "I don't care how soon it is over, for my hands are awfully flayed. I wish we could make the sheet fast."

"Ah, you must not do that, or we shall be upset at the next gust," said Frank.

After an hour and a half of very exciting sailing, they had sailed the five miles of Breydon Water, and ran into the smoother current of the Waveney. Here, also, they got the wind more aslant, and skimmed along at a great pace with very little labour. In this way, they sailed some fifteen miles, and at length came to anchor in a sheltered spot under a wood-crowned bank not far from Beccles. After making all snug and eating their dinner, the most natural thing to do was to explore the wood near them. They left the yacht, and crossing a meadow they entered the wood.

It was a thick fir-plantation and promised well for nests.

"What is that one?" said Jimmy, pointing to a nest in a tall fir-tree.

"Is it a crow's, or an old wood-pigeon's, or a hawk's? Who will go up and see?"