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Woodcraft Boys at Sunset Island

<h2>CHAPTER EIGHT THE CRUISE TO CASTINE</h2> “MOTHER, if we’re to have that masked ball that all of you were talking about, it ought to be given this week so’s to have Uncle Bill with us. You see, he starts back to the city next week,” said Fred, one morning soon after the picnic. “Aunt Miriam and I were discussing that very thing last night and we have decided to hold it in Fudge Attic, at Isola Bella, some night this week.” “Haven’t you determined upon any special night?” asked Fred. “As far as we can tell now, it will be Friday.” Elizabeth had entered the room as they were speaking, and stood holding a note the Captain had brought her from Isola Bella. At her mother’s words she smiled delightedly. “Oh, that is just fine, ’cause Miriam has invited Trixie and me to visit her for a few days this week.” She handed her mother the note and waited until the verdict was given. Of course, Elizabeth knew she would be permitted to go but she had no thought of132 accepting, or planning for the visit without her mother’s knowledge and consent. “Be sure and take everything you may need for the ball. If your suit-case isn’t large enough to hold what you will need let Anna find you a suit-box for the costume,” advised her mother. “I’ll sail you over if you like, Elizabeth,” offered Fred. “I’ve only done half of my hundred and fifty miles for the sailing coup and I want to get in as much as I can every day.” Billy sauntered in at this juncture wondering where his big brother could be. “What’s up—Eliza going away?” he queried, hearing Fred’s offer and his sister’s smiling acceptance. Mrs. Remington told him about the invitation and Billy chuckled. “That’s good! Then you won’t be here to see how we are going to be togged out for the ball, and Trix and Miriam won’t have any one to tell them who we are.” Turning to his brother after having delivered this speech, Billy added, “Say, can’t you let me take the sail with you?” “Sure—if you want to come.” “Boys, why don’t both of you take a cruise and cover a lot of ground at one time—I mean a lot of water in one day!” suggested Mrs. Remington. “Oh, mother, can we?” cried Billy. “I’d like to, if you think it’s all right, mother,” added Fred. 133 “If the weather is good and you make careful plans I see nothing to hinder your trying it,” smiled Mrs. Remington. “Bully for you, mother dear! Fred, when can we start!” shouted Billy, tossing his cap up to the ceiling. “We can start to-morrow; Captain Ed says we are in for a good spell of fine weather now,” replied Fred. So as soon as the two boys returned from escorting their sister to Isola Bella, they began preparing for the cruise. The kindly Captain helped with the outfitting of the little dory, and remarked that if they got an early start in the morning they could have the flood-tide to help them up the bay and then have all of the ebb to come back on. “I’ll keep a lookout about sunset and if the wind flushes out, I’ll come after you with the launch,” concluded he. Mose willingly agreed to cook an early breakfast for the two boys and he also tipped a wink to Billy to come to the pantry and take a look in the cake-box. Billy needed no second invitation and when he beheld the delicious-looking cake reposing there for appreciative cannibals, he sighed and asked, “Oh, Mose! That for us!” “Ef yo’ don’ say nuffin about it! Ah’m gwine t’ see dat he is tenderly wrapped up an’ shet away in a box fo’ you’-all. But don’ go an’ get Pore Mose in bad at supper t’night when they ain’t no dessert—onny preserves!” 134 And that evening a number of those seated about the supper-table noted how obediently Billy ate his dish of prunes. Paul grumbled and said he hated prunes and Dudley pushed back his plate full with a wry face. Both boys then looked for some other dessert but looked in vain! “Prunes are awful good for one, aren’t they, mother? We ought to eat plenty of prunes to be healthy!” said Billy, virtuously. Paul and Dudley stared at their chum in amazement. “Humph! Some folks get good all of a sudden!” sniffed Paul. Mrs. Remington had to control her face behind her napkin, and to change the subject, she said: “Where have you decided to go on your cruise to-morrow?” “Up to Castine and back again,” replied Billy. “We expect to start about seven in the morning,” added Fred. “Oh, can’t we go with you?” cried Dudley, coaxingly. “No indeed!” answered Mrs. Remington, decidedly. “You know nothing about sailing, and the dory is too small for a day’s sail for more than two people.” The two youngsters were inclined to dispute this decision but Fred cut short their grumbling by offering a salve in form of an invitation to spend the day on Captain Ed’s farm. The Captain lived on the mainland and made periodical trips across the bay to135 bring back butter and eggs from his farm. This idea of going with the Captain pleased Paul and Dudley so that they went to bed in an amicable frame of mind. Early the next morning every one was up to see the boys off on the cruise, and breakfast was eaten in much excitement. It was a perfect day that seemed made to order for the sailors. A light southerly wind was blowing and soon the tide would begin to flow and that would help them along materially. Paul and Dudley, still yearning for the joys of a cruise watched the dory leave the float-stage and then they ran to the north end of the island just to see the last of the little craft and the two boys they so heartily envied that morning. But no time was wasted in vain regrets when once the dory was out of sight. The two boys hurried back to the float to wait for Captain Ed who was to carry them away for a glorious day on his farm. On the way over to the mainland, the Captain said: “I’ve got a young colt that needs a brave broncho buster to ride him.” “Oh, Captain! let me try and ride it, will you?” cried Paul. “I can ride better’n Paul, Captain!” urged Dudley. “No you can’t, neither! Ah now, Captain, please let me ride her?” “Well, she’s young and gentle all right, but full of fire—like most young things. So I don’t see any136 objection to both of you boys riding her if you’re careful.” “And Paul, we’ll draw lots for the first ride!” “The colt is a great pet and she may show a little fear of you two Indians at first, but she’ll get used to you if you give her some sugar,” advised the Captain. It was a scant mile’s walk from the Cove to the farm but a friendly neighbour’s “jigger” was found going their way, and the three had a lift as far as the cross-roads. “Did you ever see such a funny axle—it’s got a broken back!” exclaimed Paul, curiously. “It looks to me more like a crankshaft,” said Dudley. “Well, a jigger’s a mighty handy thing for haulin’ heavy loads,” explained Captain Ed. “But it hain’t no pneumatic cushions for sore bones,” chuckled the neighbour. “No sir-ee! nor no ”C“ spring buggy, neither,” laughed Captain Ed. Before the boys reached the farm their breakfast was well jounced down so that the home-made cake and milk offered them by the Captain’s wife was most welcome. “We came to ride your colt,” declared Paul, between bites. “Oh, no! We came to visit you, Mrs. Blake, but the137 Captain told us we might ride the colt,” hurriedly corrected Dudley, with great diplomacy. Paul stared and Mrs. Blake laughed understandingly but she immediately invited the boys to come with her to the pasture. She carried a bridle over her arm and when they reached the lot Brownie was coaxed to come over and nibble a lump of sugar from her mistress’ hand. While doing this, the colt kept her eyes on the two strange boys. But it is safe to say that Brownie would not have submitted to the bridle had it not been for the extra sugar the boys gave her. While Mrs. Blake held the colt by the forelock and bridle, Paul, who had won the prized slip of paper, tried to mount. The boy had taken short rides at home on Billy Remington’s pony, but this was an entirely new proposition. After a number of trials and failures to mount, Dudley laughed and cried to him: “Hey, there! Come over and mount from this stone wall!” So Mrs. Blake led Brownie over to the wall while Paul scrambled on top and in that way managed to slide over on the colt’s silky bare back. The moment Brownie felt a strange burden on her back she grew unmanageable and tried in every way to dislodge it. “Grip her sides with your knees, boy!” called Mrs. Blake. 138 The moment Brownie felt the restraining hand removed from her bridle she started off on a lope for the pasture gate. The boys had left it open as they entered and through it the colt shot and made down the lane, Paul dinging to her with might and main, knowing it was now a case of “stick or flick.” Just as both of them began to feel better acquainted and hopes for enjoyment rose in Paul’s breast, the horn of a passing motor tooted on the main road at the end of the lane. The awful blast startled Brownie so that she wheeled and tore back to her home in the pasture. Oh what a race that was! Over hummocks and swales of fern! then suddenly the colt stopped short by bracing her fore-feet and humping her back. And as suddenly, Paul became an aviator. Luckily, he landed in comparatively soft sod so that the only injury he sustained was a loss of wind. “I never knew Brownie to act like that before,” commented the Captain’s wife, as Dudley and she stood watching. “Oh, Paul isn’t experienced like me! I can manage her all right, you will see!” bragged Dudley, fearing lest Mrs. Blake might decide to give Brownie her freedom. However, the colt had to be caught before Dudley could ride, and both boys as well as Mrs. Blake grew hot and tired in their endeavours. Finally, Brownie was beguiled by some young tender carrots, and Dudley139 climbed upon her back while Mrs. Blake fed the colt the delicacy. “Run and shut that pasture gate, Paul!” shouted Dudley. Paul did as he was bid and then sat upon the top rail to watch the boastful rider. At first it seemed as if Brownie, too, was tired and willing to be guided in the way she should go, so Dudley began to have confidence and bravado. “Look, Paul, this is the way to make them wheel!” called he, digging his heel into the colt’s flank. Wheel Brownie did, all right! She was off in a jiffy, circling around the pasture, jumping the familiar hummocks in her way, and finally sailing over the low stone wall, then racing lickety-split down the lane. Dudley had no objections to thumping over the soft sod of the lane as it really was preferable to the boulders in the pasture. But the colt became vexed with the boy’s close clinging and with a tossing of her mane resorted to an equine trick—that of trying to brush off an unwelcome rider. Try as he would, Dudley could not prevent Brownie from passing under the low-hanging branches near the end of the lane. Believing “discretion to be the better part of valour” the boy slipped off before he was “sawed” off by the neck. The moment the colt realised her pest was gone she kicked up her heels and snorted with derision. Paul hugged himself in wild delight when he saw140 Dudley carefully limping back to the pasture, but their troubles were soon forgotten by hearing the Captain call for aides in catching some chickens that were needed on Sunset Island. The milder delights of rural life—chickens, pigs, cows, yea, even sheep, came in for fervid attention after that. Then, early in the afternoon, well laden with baskets full of fresh vegetables as well as the broilers, eggs, and butter, the three mariners sailed the seas again to Sunset Isle. About five o’clock there came signs of a gathering storm and the sky grew black in the north. The wind had changed and blew from the northeast in increasing violence. The Captain became anxious but saying nothing to Mrs. Remington, trained the spyglass in the direction from which the two boys and the dory should first be seen. A few moments’ scrutiny showed a tiny speck gleaming white against the darkening waters. Soon, with the naked eye, he was able to discern the little craft about two miles north of the island. Then he went in search of Mrs. Remington. “Well, the two boys are piling home double quick—they’ll be here in a few minutes,” said he, with relief. The mother was secretly relieved also, as she had felt concerned over the delay of the boys and the approaching storm. 141 “Let’s run up and see ’em come around the north end!” shouted Dudley, excitedly. “Let’s all go,” said Paul, looking at Mrs. Remington invitingly. Without parley they started for the nearest point which the boys would make before running into the lee of the island. By the time the eager Islanders reached the north end the dory was almost there. “She’s carrying too much sail! They ought to’ve reefed her,” exclaimed the Captain, trying to make himself heard above the roaring of the wind. “Well, they’re here now,” sighed Mrs. Remington. While every one on shore strained eyes to watch the dory manœuvre as she approached the narrow passage between the ledges of rock leading to safety in the lee, an extra squall rendered the over-rigged boat unmanageable. Over she went! Quick as a flash, the two sailors were out on the centreboard keel! She righted, but was full of water. Billy ran down the sail while Fred chucked ballast overboard. In the meantime, the watchers on shore gasped and every face went white, but Captain Ed, finding the boys would be comparatively safe because of the airtight compartments making the dory unsinkable, ran swiftly to the float-stage and got his launch. But quick as he was, the two sailors were more than half a mile away, blown by the fury of the wind.142 He just managed to catch up with them before they were wrecked on the Isleboro shore. During this flight before the storm the boys had not been idle. One bailed madly while the other tried to keep her head on to the storm. It was a long hard tow for the little launch in the teeth of the gale with the half-filled dory dragging drunkenly behind. When at last, the boats came in the lee of the island, the nerves of those afloat as well as those on shore suddenly relaxed and made every one feel and act foolish from relief. Fred and Bill were rushed up to the bungalow for a change into dry clothes, while Dudley and Paul heaped wood upon the roaring fireplace in the living-room. Mose got busy with an unusually good hot supper and soon after, every one was hailed to sit down for the belated meal. As Mose brought in a great platter of broiled chicken with hot waffles he remarked hypocritically: “Ah don’ know wedder ders any flag up fo’ dessert t’ night, cuz Ah ain’t done gone an’ made none!” “Oh Mose! What do you call waffles?” laughed Fred. “Oh, de’s jus’ chicken fixin’s!” grinned the southerner. “Well just give me a pile of those same ‘fixin’s’ and a jug of maple syrup and you can wave the flag sky-high as far as I’m concerned,” remarked Billy, the connoisseur. 143 “How, how, how!” echoed from the circle around the table. That night when dinner had been cleared away, the family grouped itself in front of the drift-wood fire and prepared to hear the tale of the cruise. The storm was howling and raging without but the great tongues of purple and green flame that shot up the chimney from the drift wood suffused a cheery feeling to the Islanders. “We had a cinch getting up to Castine, with a flood-tide and that nice southerly,” began Fred; “it didn’t flush out until we got inside the harbour.” “You know that little Nautilus Island, mother?” asked Billy. “Well, we ran in back of that and over to a fine little cove. We took out the fishing lines and in fifteen minutes we had a mess of tom-cod.” “Say, maybe tom-cod and bacon isn’t the food for the gods! eh what, Bill!” remarked Fred, smacking his lips at the memory of his savoury feast. “You bet! We landed after catching enough fish and made a good fire to broil them. Then we ate lunch. We wound up on that cake Mose sneaked into our hamper last night.” Paul and Dudley exchanged looks that said as plainly as words, “Now we know why Billy preferred prunes!” “You know, mother, we always wanted to explore the Bagaduce River; well, this was a swell chance with the tide still running up, so we up-anchored and144 started off. We’d have been home long before the storm came if we hadn’t gone so far up the river. But it was worth the trouble, wasn’t it, Bill?” “Yeh! There’s the place where old Baron Castine and the Tarratine Indians camped when Maine was first settled,” added Billy. “Then when the wind changed this afternoon, we were up that river eating the last crumbs of cake. It began to look a little squally so we considered we’d better make tracks for home. And we sure did make a track—all froth and foam. It didn’t get to be a real storm you know, until about five o’clock, so that’s why we hadn’t reefed the sail,” explained Fred. “We went along fine for a time. I never knew the dory to go so fast but finally we realised that we needed that reef,” Billy continued. “We would have run down the sail and put in the reef out in the open bay but Fred said, ‘Oh, half a minute more will see us in the lee of the island.’ We would have been all right if that nasty little squall hadn’t caught us just half a minute too soon!” “Boys, you knew you ought to have a reef in the sail, and hereafter, don’t wait that half-minute too late to put it in. The cause of accidents and loss of life is that same excuse—‘oh, we’ll be all right in half a minute!’” warned Mrs. Remington. “How does it feel to climb out on the centreboard in a gale?” asked Dudley, curiously. 145 “Didn’t stop to diagnose the feeling!” laughed Fred. “I just guess not!” added Billy. “I bet you were glad there were air-tanks in your dory, all right!” declared Paul. “I just bet we were too!” sighed both adventurers. And Fred added: “We knew we’d be all right if we just got out the ballast, even though she was full of water.” “But all the same, we were glad to see the Captain heave in sight through the spray, and then when we got near the island it kinda felt good to see you all waiting to welcome us,” smiled Billy. “I never saw anything drift so fast in all my life—even though the wind and tide were working together,” said Dudley. Advice is most uninteresting to youth and when Mrs. Remington began to advise the reckless sailors, Fred quickly changed the subject. “Well, Dud—what did you and Paul do at the farm to-day?” Both boys plunged into the story of the broncho busting each one giving high-coloured account of the other’s inexperience in riding a colt. Then as they arrived at the relation of the quieter sports of feeding the livestock and catching chickens, they looked at each other and finally doubled up in laughter. “What’s the joke—tell us, too!” wondered Billy. “How did you like the broilers to-night?” asked Paul. 146 “Why, they tasted good as usual—why?” wondered Fred. “Because, we’ve heard that the flavour of a chicken has to do with the way it is killed. How do you like your chickens killed—heads chopped off or necks wrung?” asked Paul. “All the same to me as long as I get it,” replied Billy. “Well, how do you s’pose they’d taste if they were suffocated to death?” persisted Dudley, and both Paul and he laughed again. “You didn’t do that, did you?” cried Edith, horrified. “Well, two of the tender chickens we had to-night were suffocated by Dud and me, but not intentionally,” admitted Paul. “You see, it was this way: We had been catching chickens for the Captain and these two got away and hid under the haystack outside the barn. “The Captain started chopping off heads and I got one chicken as it flounced around without its head, and chased Paul with it. Just when Paul doubled in his tracks, I was swinging the chicken about holding it by one leg. He ran plump into it and then said I <ins title="Original has lamned">lammed</ins> him with it! Ha, ha, ha!” chuckled Dudley. “Well, you did, too, Dud! You were just going to swing it at my head anyway when I turned to dodge you! But I got even!” interrupted Paul. <div class="figcenter width600"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-146a.jpg" width-obs="600" height-obs="360" alt="" /> <div class="caption">CAP’N, FRED, AND BILLY “OILED UP.”</div> </div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i-146b.jpg" width-obs="600" height-obs="358" alt="" /> <div class="caption">OFF FOR BELFAST ON THE MEDRIC. Woodcraft Boys at Sunset Island. Page 148</div> </div> 147 “Paul ran me in the barn and chased me up into the hayloft but I jumped out on this big haystack to get away from him. He followed right after me and both of us slid down the side and landed on top of each other. One wild <ins title="Original has squak">squawk</ins> from the chickens underneath us told how we had landed on top of them. They died so quick they hadn’t time to make a will to dispose of their heads,” laughed Dudley, at the remembrance. “We carried the two chickens back and told the Captain of their unexpected end, and he said, ‘That’s a new form of capital punishment.’” While the children talked over the rural sports of the Captain’s farm Mrs. Remington seemed absent-minded. When they had worn the subject threadbare however, she made a remark. “I’ve been thinking about the masked ball—you should have been planning long before this as to the costumes you intend wearing.” “How do you know that we haven’t been planning?” asked Fred, smilingly. “Oh, I’m glad if you have, but I haven’t heard about it,” said she. “Haven’t you heard a weird tincan sound coming from the direction of the pump-house lately?” queried Fred. “Why, yes—I believe I have! What is it?” quizzed his mother. “That’s the secret of my costume. Nobody will148 ever guess what it is to be so I won’t tell beforehand,” returned Fred. “I’m going as Red Riding Hood!” exclaimed Edith. “Dud was going to be a pirate but Billy told him of some other good idea so I’m going to use the pirate’s things,” said Paul. “Yes, Bill and I are going to be a pair but we need you to help us make the things, Mrs. Remington,” added Dudley. “What is it?” “Why, mother, Dud and I want to be bears—a white polar bear for me and a cinnamon bear for Dud, and we need some old blankets for the suits,” explained Billy. “I wouldn’t want to spoil any good blankets by cutting them up for suits but Anna has some white cotton flannel for the polar bear and I think I know where there is some brown material that will do for the other and you can sew the bear rug on the back of it,” suggested Mrs. Remington. “And maybe you and Anna can cut out and stitch up the suits—that will be all, you know. Dud and I will do all the rest,” wheedled Billy. “There isn’t anything else to do after that, is there?” laughed Anna. “To make two bear skins seems a large order, Billy,” said Mrs. Remington. Then thoughtfully, added, “Maybe we can use the pattern of the sleeping suits that have feet and mittens attached! And we149 have the sewing machine that will run up the seams quickly.” “Of course! It will be dead easy!” said Dudley. “And be sure you leave enough room when you cut out the stuff, to give us a chance to stuff pillows in front. We’re going to be big fat bears, you see,” added Billy, with concern. Every one laughed, but Fred had an idea which he mentioned. “Bill, you ought to rig up some strings that connect with the inside so that you can wiggle the ears and stumpy tail.” “That’s what I will! Won’t it be fun?” laughed Billy. After that conversation, the time was given to the making of costumes for the masque, Fred still jealously guarding his secret work going on in the pump-house while every one expressed the wildest conjectures as to what he could be making! The first time the two bears tried on their costumes, Mose was heard singing his favourite revival hymn, “Swing low, sweet chariot, goin’ fo’ t’carry me home,” while he worked in the adjoining room. Mischief uppermost in his thought, Billy whispered to Dudley: “Say, let’s hide in Mose’s tent to-night and when he goes to bed we’ll growl like bears and jump out on him!” “Great! But don’t let any one know or they’ll stop us,” replied Dudley. The tooting of the Orion’s whistle just then, interrupted150 any further planning and every one rushed out to meet the visitors. Mr. and Mrs. Charlton had a plan to propose to Mrs. Remington, so the eldest went into a secret conference from which the children were excluded, but now and then a word sounded from unwary speakers. Words like “Boston,” “Manage if they will all co-operate” and “See Uncle Bill about it,” made the boys curious. When the conclave ended, the children besieged Miss Travis to tell them what every one was going to wear to the ball. “Indeed we won’t tell!” said she, emphatically. “Not much!” added Uncle Tom. “Humph! Do you mean you’re going to wear bathing suits, or cannibal costumes?” laughed Billy. “Oh, a little more material than those take, I hope!” laughed Aunt Edith, while appreciating her nephew’s quick wit. “Wish we had thought of bathing suits—we could have saved much expense and time,” said Uncle Tom, regretfully. “I think you ought to tell us what you are going in!” persisted Billy. “Ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies!” retorted Uncle Tom, and there the matter rested. That night the wild uproar in Mose’s tent testified to the time the two bears attacked him. The rest of the family rushed affrightedly over to rescue the valuable cook, but found him upon the floor of his tent151 writhing in convulsions of fear with two savage bears thumping on top of him. A veil must be drawn over that harrowing scene, but Mrs. Remington wondered whether her chef was quaking in a fit of terror or only shaking in laughter—especially as he had seen Anna sewing on the two costumes for the bears. <hr class="divider" /> 152 <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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