Parkhurst Boys Part 44

Chapter III. Consternation.

The "Eliza"--that was the name of the coastguard's boat on which our heroes had embarked--was a middling-sized sea-going rowing boat, which, if it was just big enough by a little judicious packing to hold the seven voyagers, could certainly not have accommodated more.

While Gayford, with the dexterity of an experienced bargee, shoved the boat along out of the creek, Bowler took upon himself the care of tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the "s.h.i.+p," and stowing away all the baggage.

"As soon as we get out," said he, "we'd better lie down on the floor, in case the coastguards see us."

"Not much chance of that," replied Gayford. "They never get up till eight, and by that time we shall be halfway across."

"Suppose they spot us and give chase?" said Wallas. "What a row we shall get into!"

"They've not got a boat, I tell you, and I don't believe there's one they can get either," said Bowler.

"But they're sure to be on the look-out for us when we get back to- night."

"Let them. It'll be dark at six, and we can land in Rocket Bay, you know, and dodge them that way."

Bowler was evidently so well up in the arrangements, and had made such a careful study of all the pros and cons of the venture, that every one felt satisfied, and even the somewhat doubtful Wallas desisted from throwing more cold water on the expedition.

It was a raw morning with a little bit of a fog, and a cool breeze right off the land. This last point, however, gave great satisfaction to the leaders of the party. Once out in the open they would be able to hoist sail, and without the exertion of rowing make a straight track for the Long Stork--much indeed as would be the case when, with a southerly wind at their backs, they would before long plough the ocean from Sinnamary to New Swishford.

The fog also was decidedly in their favour, for it would help to screen them from the observation of any wakeful and inquisitive coastguard. In fact, the unusual combination of wind and fog seemed like a special sign of good omen to their adventure.

"Hope it's not wough outside," said Braintree, as the boat, now nearly out of the creek, began to dance a little at the prospect of meeting the open sea.

"Can't be rough with the wind off the land, you duffer," said Crashford.

"Can't it, though?" said Wester, as a wave lifted the prow of the boat and nearly sent it back on the rocks.

"I call that vewy wough," said Braintree, looking and feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Oh, it's only the ground swell," said Gayford; "we shall soon get out of that. Here, Bowler, old man, take an oar with Tubbs, and keep way on while I stick up the sail. Look alive!"

With some difficulty the oars were got out, and Tubbs made to comprehend what was expected of him. But comprehending was one thing with Tubbs, and doing was another thing. Just as he settled down to his oar, another wave lifted the boat and Tubbs with it, who clung wildly to the seat with both hands, leaving his oar to its fate. Luckily, Crashford was near enough to make a grab at it before it went, or the beginning of the expedition might have been marked by a serious catastrophe.

The unhappy Tubbs having been shunted, Crashford took his place, and with Bowler kept the boat's head steady till Gayford hauled up the sail, and the "Eliza" began of her own accord to fly through the water.

At the sight of the majestic sail swelling with the wind, and still more on perceiving a decided improvement in the pitching of the boat, the spirits of the party rose again, and Braintree actually began to hum "Wule Bwitannia."

The cliffs of Raveling loomed dimly out behind them, and ahead they could just discern the faintest outline of the land of their adoption.

"Upon my word," said Bowler, "this is jolly. It's just like the real New Swishford, isn't it, you fellows?"

"Warthah," said Braintree, "except my wifle to let fly at the seagulls with."

"But," said Wallas, "if the wind's off the land this side, it will be off the sea when we get over there, so I suppose it'll get rougher and rougher the farther out we get?"

This ominous suggestion had the effect of immediately damping the spirits of half the party, and Bowler and Gayford found it difficult to restore confidence in the much-abused ocean. The ocean, however, went some way to restore confidence in itself. For though it still continued restless enough to keep Braintree and Tubbs in a state of suspended enjoyment in the bows, it showed no signs of getting worse as it went on.

Bowler was jubilant. With his hand on the rudder and his eye on the compa.s.s, he kept the boat's course like a line, and fancied himself heading due north from Sinnamary. Gayford, with the sheet in his hand, and a careful watch on the sail, could easily delude himself into fancying the coast-line of the Long Stork was the veritable sh.o.r.e of New Swishford.

"Isn't it prime, old man," said he, "and won't it be primer still when the real time comes? I never guessed it would be so easy. Not a thing's gone wrong."

"No; and think of the lark of landing and collaring the island, too. I say, who does the Long Stork belong to?"

"Don't know--the Long Storks, I guess. They're the only inhabitants I ever heard of."

"Well, I'm sorry for them. But, I say, Gayford, it's just as well we have got some grub on board, for there's not much sign of forests and game, and all that sort of thing here."

Not much indeed! Long Stork Island was a barren rock about a mile long and half a mile wide, with a few scraggy patches of gra.s.s on its uninviting slope. No living creatures but the wild sea-birds patronised it in the winter, when the waves lashed over the island and sent their salt spray from one end to the other. Even they seemed to avoid it.

But beggars cannot be choosers, and as the Long Stork was the only island of our heroes' acquaintance within reach, they had to take it as it was and make the best of it.

A decided sea was running on the landward side of the island as they approached it, and even such inexperienced navigators as Bowler and Gayford could see that there would be some difficulty about effecting a quiet landing.

"Better go round the other side," said Gayford; "it'll be quiet enough there out of the wind."

So the boat's nose was put out to make a circuit of the Long Stork.

"Look out, I say!" said, or rather groaned Braintree from the bows.

"Don't make the boat woll. Why can't you wun her stwait in the way you--?"

His further observations were cut short, and during the rest of the time that the "Eliza" was rounding the stormy cape he and Tubbs and Crashford were in a decidedly pensive mood. At last the circ.u.mnavigation was accomplished, and in tranquil water the boat cruised along under the sheltered sh.o.r.e of the island. The sail was lowered, oars were put out, the invalids sat up, and Bowler, standing up in the bows, scanned the coast for a likely landing-place.

He had not to search long. A little natural pier of rock ran out invitingly, alongside which the boat was slowly and triumphantly brought.

"Now, you fellows," said Crashford, "here goes for first on sh.o.r.e. Out of the way, Tubby. Hurrah for New Swishford!" And he leapt on sh.o.r.e, half capsizing the boat as he did so.

Bowler found his authority unequal to the task of controlling the enthusiasm of his fellow-emigrants, and he had to let them land as they pleased, while he and Gayford grimly held the boat alongside.

When all but Tubbs were ash.o.r.e, their patience could hold out no longer.

They followed the general rush, Bowler crying out to Tubbs as he sprang ash.o.r.e--

"See and make her fast, Tubbs, and land the grub, will you? We'll be back directly." And off he scampered with the rest, to join in the ceremony of capturing the island.

Now Tubbs was not the best man who could have been chosen to execute so important a trust as that laid upon him; and Bowler, had he been rather less excited at the moment, would have thought twice before he left him to perform it. In the first place, Tubbs could find no place to tie the boat up to, and as long as he sat in the boat and held on to the rock it was evident he could not land the grub. So he was in a dilemma. He did his best; he relaxed his hold for a moment and made a frantic grab at one of the brown-paper parcels. But it almost cost him his moorings, for the boat, taking advantage of its liberty, began to slide away out to sea, and it was all Tubbs could do to catch hold of the rock again in time to stop it. This would not do, it was clear. He pulled the boat along to its old position, and throwing the parcel ash.o.r.e, meditated.

He must wait till one of the others came to help him. Poor Tubbs! It was hard lines to see the rest of the party scrambling triumphantly up the hill, and find himself left here like a sort of animated anchor.

Happy thought! How came he never to have thought of the anchor before?

There it was in the bottom of the boat. It would be the simplest thing to jump ash.o.r.e with it and fix it somewhere in the rocks where it would hold. No sooner was the brilliant project conceived than it was executed. Seizing the anchor in his hands, Tubbs stepped gaily ash.o.r.e and triumphantly wedged one tooth of it into a crevice of the rock, where it would hold firm enough to keep a man-of-war in its place. He watched with a pleasant smile the "Eliza" as she drifted slowly out on the rope, enjoying the prospect of seeing her presently tug at the anchor, and then give up the attempt to get free and resign herself to her fate.

It was a longer coil of rope than he had imagined. The boat was twenty yards away at least, and still paying out. By the way, where was the rope? With a cry of horror Tubbs sprang to the anchor and began hauling in. The rope came in gaily, but not the "Eliza." She danced merrily cut to sea in a straight line for the North Pole, with the six brown- paper parcels on board, leaving her poor custodian to console himself as best he could with a loose end of rope, which had never been fastened to its ring.

What was he to do? After taking a few minutes to collect his ideas, by which time the boat was a hundred yards on its solitary voyage, it occurred to him he had better inform the others of what had happened.

So he started in rather a low state of mind in pursuit of them. It was a long time before he came upon them, perched in a group on the highest point of the island, and singing "Rule Britannia" in a l.u.s.ty chorus which sent the scared seagulls flying to right and left.

"Hullo, Tubby, old man, here we are! Got the grub safe ash.o.r.e? Not been bagging any of the peaches, eh? You've been long enough."

Tubbs replied by pointing mysteriously to a little speck out at sea.