Up the River Part 13

At my request Cobbington bought a considerable quant.i.ty of sheeps-head and cavallo. The only fish we had on board was shad, and we had eaten that so much during the past month that we were tired of it. These fresh fish were therefore a great treat, as we found next morning.

We started the engine again, satisfied that the Islander had not gone into Mosquito Inlet. I gave the information to Colonel Shepard.

"Then Mr. Cornwood will not be likely to intercept the Islander at Key West," said he.

"Not unless she put in at some other port, though I know of none where she could have made a harbor until after the storm was over. But she may stop over at Key West a day or two," I replied. "It all depends upon what Captain Blastblow understands his instructions to be."

"Cornwood took the train at Jacksonville for Cedar Keys this morning, and will be there this afternoon. He will reach Key West on Sunday morning," added the colonel.

"We shall be there only a few hours later; and if the weather is favorable we may get there as soon as the messenger you sent."

"I do not see that we can help the matter. If Cornwood don't get to Key West in season to intercept the Islander, he will lose his two hundred dollars, and my runaway craft will continue on her way to New Orleans."

This was all that either of us could make of it, and all we could do was to wait till we got to Key West for further information. If the Islander was twenty-four hours ahead of us, it was useless to attempt to overhaul her. The Sylvania was a great deal more comfortable for the pa.s.sengers when she went along at her ordinary rate than when she was forced up to twelve knots an hour; and I was not disposed to hurry her on a useless mission. My pa.s.sengers appeared to be enjoying themselves all the time. I could not see how they could help being happy.

Some of them were reading books from the library I had started at Detroit, and replenished in several places on the route to the South.

Others were playing various games. Mr. Tiffany and my father could play chess all day long, and most of the night. The meals were served as elaborately as at a first-cla.s.s hotel, and we had everything from the market that could be supplied in the summer in the northern states. I was decidedly of the opinion that our pa.s.sengers had nothing to worry about, unless Colonel Shepard could be excused for worrying about his steamer.

At eight o'clock the first watch went on duty, in charge of Washburn, who was as competent to handle the vessel as I was. He had the chart, with the courses and distances marked on it. When I left the pilot-house, Cape Canaveral, or rather the light on it, was in sight.

At nine o'clock we were just abreast of it, which proved that our dead reckoning was correct. From this point the course was south by east, one hundred and five miles.

As soon as the Sylvania was on her new course, I left the pilot-house, where I had gone at nine, and turned in. I had slept all the night before, and the laughter of the younger of the pa.s.sengers on the hurricane-deck above me did not permit me to sleep. But I heard Colonel Shepard call his daughter away at ten, and then I went to sleep. I could not tell how long I had slept when the stopping of the steamer waked me.

"What schooner is that?" shouted Washburn, from the pilot-house.

I was on deck soon enough to hear the reply.

"The Violet, New Orleans to New York," came from the vessel hailed.

"Did you see a small steamer about the size of this one?" asked Washburn.

"We pa.s.sed one about three hours ago. She looked enough like you to be the same vessel."

"Thanks," shouted Washburn, as he rang the bell to go ahead.

I looked at my watch, and found it wanted but a few minutes of twelve, and I went into the pilot-house.

CHAPTER XI.

DIFFICULT NAVIGATION.

"Three hours ago, which means that the Islander is about thirty miles ahead of us," said Washburn, when I went into the pilot-house.

"She must have put in somewhere, and it was not at Mosquito Inlet," I replied. "I don't quite understand it."

"I think I do," added Washburn, as he called in Buck Lingley and gave him the wheel.

He led the way to the chart on the shelf, upon which a light was cast from the binnacle. He pointed out Matanzas Inlet, at the southern point of Anastasia Island, and fifteen miles south of St. Augustine.

"She went into that inlet," said Washburn.

"But there isn't water enough in it to float the Islander," I replied.

"I think she did not go in far, if at all. The wind was off sh.o.r.e yesterday, and under the lee of the land there is no sea of any consequence, except what is caused by the rollers. If the captain of that schooner has given the time correctly, it shows that the Islander went to sea about an hour and half before we did. That will put her thirty miles ahead of us," Washburn explained; and his reasoning seemed to be correct.

"The Islander put in somewhere, or she would have been two hundred and forty miles farther on the way to Key West than we are," I added. "She did not stand off to sea, as there was not the least need of that, for the wind has been off sh.o.r.e since we came out of the St. Johns."

"I am confident we are right. Now the question is, shall we chase her?"

asked Washburn. "She is thirty miles ahead of us; and we have nearly three hundred and fifty miles to make to reach Key West."

"There is no wind to-night to help us, and it will take as much coal to get the two extra knots out of the Sylvania as it will to make the ordinary and regular ten knots an hour, to say nothing of the wear and tear of boiler and machinery," I replied, musing.

"But the Islander will get to Key West before Cornwood does, if she puts in there, and we may miss her altogether."

"I should like to get near enough to her to watch her movements," I added. "I think if we crowd the Sylvania for six or seven hours we shall get a sight of her. I am inclined to hurry her."

"I am decidedly in favor of it, for she may escape her owner altogether if we don't follow her up."

"Eight bells! All the port watch!" called Buck Lingley, who had been relieved at the wheel.

I went on deck, and when Ben Bowman came up I told him I wanted him to give the vessel all the steam she would carry. There was a light breeze from the westward, but not enough to help the speed of the steamer, and we did not put on any sail. I took my place at the wheel while Hop Tossford was the lookout on the topgallant forecastle.

In a short time the screw began to buzz, and when Buck and Dyer Perkins went below, after heaving the lead, the Sylvania was making eleven knots. I expected her to do better than this. At four o'clock in the morning, when the starboard watch were called, we were off Indian River Inlet. Nothing had been said about trying the fish since we left Jacksonville. There was not water enough in Indian River to float the steamer, and I gave up all thought of renewing the exciting sport we had had in these waters when we came over from the St. Johns. At four o'clock I turned in and slept till eight.

I found the barometer had been dropping again, and the wind came from the eastward, which was not a good way to have the wind while we were off the coast. While I was eating my breakfast, the Sylvania came up with Jupiter Inlet, where Washburn changed the course to south, three-quarters east. The log-slate showed that we had made eleven and a half knots. I figured up the distances, and concluded that the Islander must be about twelve miles ahead of us. I did not give the other steamer the credit of making more than ten knots an hour.

The wind had freshened considerably since I left the deck early in the morning, and I ordered all sail to be set. Soon after the log showed that we were making twelve knots, which was about the best speed we had ever made. We kept her going at this rate till noon, and I had the wheel during the time. In the course of the forenoon we had visits from all the pa.s.sengers, but the wind was raw and cold, and they did not remain long on deck.

"Sail, ho!" shouted Hop Tossford, from the topgallant forecastle.

"Where away?" I asked, looking ahead, though as it was not clear I saw nothing distinctly.

"Sharp on the weather bow," replied the lookout.

I looked in the direction indicated, and could just make out a sail. I examined it through the gla.s.s, and was satisfied it was the Islander. I had calculated that we ought to be up with her by noon; but it was evident to me that her captain had been hurrying her, as I did not antic.i.p.ate he would do. I soon a.s.sured myself that she was not on the same course as the Sylvania. She was headed at least a point more to the westward. We had on all the sail it was prudent to carry, and Ben Bowman declared the engine was doing its best.

"We have been gaining on her every hour," I said to the mate. "If we keep on we shall overtake her in a few hours, though she is making her best speed."

"But she is going more to the westward than we are," added Washburn, looking at the chase through the gla.s.s.

"I think she is making a mistake, for I should not care to be mixed up among those shoals if it comes on bad weather; and it looks like it now."

"The wind is hauling more to the southward, and I shall look for a fog before night."

We kept on our course as laid down in the Coast-pilot, without regard to the Islander. I called the pa.s.sengers at two in the afternoon, when we again changed our course to south, quarter west, to show them the Islander. She was still headed a point farther to the westward than we were. As our course from this point to Key West was on the circ.u.mference of a quarter-circle, I supposed Captain Blastblow only intended to take the shortest way by keeping inside of us, and I did not alter anything. But I was confident that he would have to run outside again in order to avoid the shoals of Virginia and Biscayne Keys. I had studied the chart carefully every day, and had found places where there was not more than four, or even more than two, feet of water at low tide, as it was at this time.