Camp Venture Part 13

"Well, we ain't a discussin' of rights now," answered the mountaineer.

"We're a talkin' business. You fellers has got to git out'n the mountings."

Here Tom broke in, with his hot temper:

"So that's your last word, is it? Well, now let me give you our last word. We are going to stay here. We are going to defend ourselves in our rights, and now that you've threatened to kill us, and tried to kill us, we've a perfect right to do a little shooting on our own account, and I give you warning that if any one of you is caught in this camp, or anywhere near it, we'll understand that he has come here to carry out your threats, and we'll shoot him without waiting to ask any questions.

As for you, we ought to send you to jail for shooting one of our party.

I for one vote to do that. We can lock you up in the penitentiary for that offense, and we're going to do it. Just as soon as the Doctor says you're able to travel, I'm going to take you down the mountains at the muzzle of a gun, and put you in jail. I'm tired of this thing."

This aspect of the case had not presented itself to the minds of the other boys, but they approved Tom's plan instantly. The right thing is always and obviously to appeal to the law for redress where a wrong has been done, and perhaps the jailing of the mountaineer, under a charge of "a.s.sault with intent to kill"--an offense punishable by a long term of imprisonment,--might deter the others from like offenses.

"Well, it's pretty hard," said the mountaineer. "I've just got out only three months ago, after a year in prison, for nothin' but helpin' some other fellers to make a little whiskey without a payin' of the tax; an'

now I've got to go back to grindin' stove lids for nothin' but shootin'

at people that stays in the mountings in spite of all our warnin's."

Obviously the man was utterly incapable of realizing the nature or the atrocity of his crime. Obviously, also, he was incapable, as his comrades were, of seeing that anybody but themselves had a right to stay in the mountains when they objected.

But Tom was bent upon carrying out his idea of taking the man down the mountain and bringing him to trial for shooting Ed, and the other boys fully sanctioned it.

"It may teach these people," said Jack, "that there are other people in the world who have rights. That will be a civilizing lesson."

"Yes," said Tom, "and besides that, it will lock up a man who seems to know how to shoot straight even in the dark. Anyhow, I've made up my mind. As a 'law-abiding and law-loving citizen' I'm going to put that fellow into jail, and send him afterwards to the penitentiary for a ten years' term, if I can, for shooting Ed Parmly with intent to kill him.

It will be a wholesome reminder to the rest of these moons.h.i.+ners that they had better not shoot at us fellows. So, just as soon as the Doctor says he's able to travel, I'm going to escort him down the mountain and deliver him to the sheriff of the county. In the meantime, daylight is breaking and it's time for you fellows who have the job in charge to begin the preparation of breakfast."

So, after all, Tom did not get much sleep as a preparation for his game hunting trip of the coming day.

CHAPTER XVI

_The Doctor Explains_

Ed's wound did not incapacitate him for the task of standing guard over the wounded and captured mountaineer. Ed was able to get out of bed and sit about the house with a gun slung casually across his knees or his shoulder, as the case might be, and the mountaineer perfectly understood that Ed did not mean for him to escape, by any possible chance, even when his strength should return. So he was content to lie still and reflect as he did, that "this is better than the prison anyhow."

Tom went hunting, as the Doctor had suggested that he should. Three of the boys continued the chopping, while one stood guard--a duty that had been made more imperative than ever by the mountaineer's declaration of the fixed purpose of the moons.h.i.+ners.

When Tom returned in the evening he was overladen with game, as it was his custom to be on his return from a hunting expedition. He had two big wild turkey gobblers, a great necklace of fat squirrels, nearly a dozen hares and a small deer which he had dragged down the mountain because of his inability to carry it with his other load upon him.

"Here's meat enough," he said, "to last till Christmas anyhow," for it was now well on into December, "and I've seen a big turkey gobbler that I mean to get for our Christmas dinner. He can't weigh less than twenty or twenty-five pounds, and he's a shy, wise, experienced old boy; but I've found out what his usual rambles are and if the Doctor will lend me that long range rifle of his, I'll promise to get that bird for Christmas. I don't believe it would be possible to get within shot gun range of him."

"Oh, you can take that gun, Tom, whenever you please," answered the Doctor. "In fact, I'm going to give it to you right now. Only I'll ask you when you go down the mountain with our prisoner, to mail a letter for me, in which I will order another gun of the same sort."

"But, Doctor," said Tom, in protest, "I didn't mean--"

"Of course you didn't," answered the Doctor. "If you'd meant anything of the kind, I wouldn't have thought of giving you the gun. As it is, I don't know anybody living that could make a better use of such a gun than you can. So it is yours, and I'm going to send for another just like it for myself. In the meantime, I'll borrow your shotgun for such casual uses as our camp life may require. Of course, you'll need the shot gun also, sometimes, but the rifle's yours, and I am sure it could not be in better hands."

The boy made his acknowledgments as best he could, and the best part of them was his fondling of the rifle itself in loving appreciation. But in his embarra.s.sment over the Doctor's generosity, he wanted to turn the subject of conversation, and as supper was by this time over, he said:

"Now, Doctor, you were telling us the other night something about the old-time whaling s.h.i.+ps. Won't you tell us to-night something about the modern ocean steamers?"

"Yes," broke in Jack. "You see, you are the only 'boy' among us who has ever seen a s.h.i.+p, and I believe you have crossed the ocean several times."

"Yes, many times," answered the Doctor, meditatively, "and there are many points of interest about a great modern ocean steams.h.i.+p, which it will please me to tell you about if it will interest you to hear."

The boys expressed an eager desire to hear, and so the Doctor proceeded.

"In the first place," he said, "there is nothing in the world so complete, so independent, so self-reliant, as a first-cla.s.s steams.h.i.+p.

She has everything on board that she can possibly need, or else she has the means of making it for herself. She makes her own electric lights, and every stateroom is supplied with them. She does not carry fresh water for drinking and cooking use, because she has a distilling apparatus capable of producing all needed fresh water from the salt water of the sea. This is a great advantage. If you have ever read sea tales, you know that in cases of long detention, one of the worst of troubles in the old days was that the water became foul and the use of it bred disease. The modern steams.h.i.+p always has a supply of perfectly pure distilled water."

"But, Doctor," asked Ed, "suppose one of the big steamers should break down at sea, with her machinery out of order, and wallow around out there on the waves for a month or two, wouldn't the crew and pa.s.sengers all starve to death?"

"That could hardly happen," said the Doctor, "for reasons which I will explain presently. But even if it did happen, the crew and pa.s.sengers would not starve, for the reason that every great ocean liner carries in her hold enough food to last her pa.s.sengers and crew for fully six months, although I believe the law requires them to carry only one month's supply."

"How many are there on board usually?"

"Oh, that varies with every voyage. The big s.h.i.+ps often carry three or four hundred first-cla.s.s pa.s.sengers and have crews numbering from seventy to one hundred men. But some of them carry, also, a large number of steerage pa.s.sengers. I once crossed from Italy on the North German Lloyd's steamer Ems, when we had only twelve first cla.s.s pa.s.sengers, five second cla.s.s and fifteen hundred in the steerage."

"And she carried food enough for all those people for six months?" asked Jack, in wonder.

"Yes, and more."

"What sort of food was it?"

"Beans by scores of tons; corned beef and mess pork by hundreds of barrels, and an almost unlimited supply of canned meats and vegetables,"

answered the Doctor.

"Now, as I said," the Doctor resumed, "no great steamer is ever likely to be delayed for a month or anything like a month, at sea. In the first place, each of them carries a skilled chief engineer and a corps of competent a.s.sistant engineers, a force of blacksmiths and machinists, and better still, duplicates of all those parts of her engines that are liable to break down. I remember one voyage on the American liner Berlin, when in midocean one of our cylinders cracked and threatened to burst under the steam pressure. The captain stopped the s.h.i.+p and the engineers and machinists cut that cylinder out. We lay there for twenty hours in a surging sea, and then proceeded, running with only two of our three cylinders in use."

"But what an awful bobbing about you must have got," said Ed, "lying out there on the sea, with no headway."

"Oh, no!" answered the Doctor. "Our bow was kept always toward the oncoming waves, so that we rode rather more easily than if we had been running under steam, for if we had been running we should have laid our course straight for New York, taking the waves from any direction. As it was, we got them dead ahead."

"But how did they hold the bow always toward the coming waves?" asked Ed.

"By the use of what they call 'sea anchors.' These are great hollow cones, made of iron. At the big end of each a cable is fastened, and the anchors are thrown overboard, usually three or four of them. Of course, it is impossible in deep seas to send an anchor down to the bottom, but these big cones catch the water, and by their dragging in it, they hold the s.h.i.+p pretty nearly stationary, and, more important still, they keep her head always pointed toward the wind and waves, so that she rides easily. Whenever a s.h.i.+p breaks down at sea she hoists three great black disks into her rigging. These mean to any s.h.i.+p that may approach, that the steamer is 'not under control'--that is to say, that as she is not running, she has no power to steer to one side or the other or in any other way to keep out of the path of the approaching vessel. Then, the approaching vessel steers clear of the disabled steamer, and usually she hoists a set of signal flags, asking if the steamer needs or wants any a.s.sistance, and the steamer replies with another set of flags giving her response to the offer. The flag signalling system has been so completely perfected by international agreement that two captains can carry on any conversation they please by means of it, even though neither can speak a word of the other's language.

"Now this is the other reason why no steamer is ever likely to lie crippled on the ocean for a month or any thing like it. There are regular pathways on the ocean over which all the regular line steamers pa.s.s. So, while the ocean is so immense that you may steam over it for days without seeing a vessel of any kind, nevertheless no steamer is likely to lie disabled for more than a few days without sighting some other that stands ready to render a.s.sistance. If the disabled steamer needs anything the other furnishes it. If she is too far broken down in her machinery to repair it at sea, the other will generally take her in tow. If she is likely to sink--the most unlikely of all things--the other will take off her crew and pa.s.sengers and leave the s.h.i.+p to her fate."

"Why do you say, Doctor, that sinking is the most unlikely of all things?" asked Jack. "I should think it the most likely."

"Not at all," the Doctor replied. "The modern steams.h.i.+p is perhaps the most perfect product we have of scientific precision in construction. As well as you know that twice two makes four, the builders of a modern steams.h.i.+p know to the uttermost pound the amount of strain that any wave blow can put upon any part of the s.h.i.+p, and they provide for it four times over. Except in case of collision in a fog, the great ocean liner simply cannot sink at sea. If you took her out to mid ocean and there abandoned her, she would float securely until some current should drive her on rocks or some other sort of sh.o.r.e. At sea, she is absolutely unsinkable, except as I say by collision, and that is as true when she is carrying thousands of tons of freight as at any other time."

"It is very wonderful," said Jack.

"Of course it is. If I were called upon to name the modern seven wonders of the world, I should unhesitatingly put the ocean greyhound first in the list. But come boys! It is past our bed time, and we've heavy work to do to-morrow in getting those three great timbers ready to send down the chute."

"I'm awfully sorry," said Tom.