A Little Maid of Province Town Part 8

After Amos had marked out his sister's name in the sand he started along the sh.o.r.e to where a dory lay, just floating on the swell of the incoming tide.

"Amos is going to fish for flounders," said Amanda; "he catches a fine mess almost every afternoon for mother to cook for supper. He's a great help."

"Want to fish?" called out Amos as the two little girls came near the boat and watched him bait his hooks with clams which he had dug and brought with him.

"Oh, yes," said Anne; "do you think I could catch enough for Uncle Enos's supper?"

"Yes, if you'll hurry," answered the boy; "climb in over the bow."

The barefooted children splashed through the shallow curl of the waves on the beach, and clambered over the high bow of the dory. Amos baited their lines, and with a word of advice as to the best place to sit, he again turned to his own fis.h.i.+ng and soon pulled in a big, flopping, resisting flounder.

"The tide isn't right," he declared after a few minutes when no bite came to take the bait. "I'm going to cast off and pull a little way down sh.o.r.e over the flats. They'll be sure to bite there. You girls sit still. You can troll your lines if you want to. You may catch something."

So Anne and Amanda sat very still while Amos sprang ash.o.r.e, untied the rope from the stout post sunk in the beach, pushed the boat into deeper water, and jumped in as it floated clear from the sh.o.r.e.

It was a big, clumsy boat, and the oars were heavy; but Amos was a stout boy of twelve used to boats and he handled the oars very skilfully.

"The tide's just turning," he said; "'twill take us down sh.o.r.e without much rowing."

"But 'twill be hard coming back," suggested Amanda.

"Pooh! Hard! I guess I could row through any water in this harbor,"

bragged Amos, bending to his oar so l.u.s.tily that he broke one of the wooden thole-pins, uns.h.i.+pped his oar, and went over backward into the bottom of the boat, losing his hold on the oar as he fell. He scrambled quickly back to his seat, and endeavored to swing the dory about with one oar so that he could reach the one now floating rapidly away. But he could not get within reach of it.

"You girls move forward," he commanded; "I'll have to scull," and moving cautiously to the stern of the boat he put his remaining oar in the notch cut for it and began to move it regularly back and forth.

"Are you going insh.o.r.e, Amos?" questioned his sister.

"What for?" asked the boy. "I've got one good oar, haven't I? We can go along first-rate."

"It's too bad to lose a good oar," said Amanda.

"Father won't care," said Amos rea.s.suringly; "'twa'n't a good oar. The blade was split; 'twas liable to harm somebody. He'll not worry at losing it."

The dory went along very smoothly under Amos's sculling and with the aid of the tide. Amanda and Anne, their lines trailing overboard, watched eagerly for a bite, and before long Anne had pulled in a good-sized plaice, much to Amos's satisfaction. He drew in his oar to help her take out the hook, and had just completed this task when Amanda called out:

"Amos! Amos! the oar's slipping!"

The boy turned quickly and grabbed at the vanis.h.i.+ng oar, but he was too late--it had slid into the water. They were now some distance from sh.o.r.e and the tide was setting strongly toward the mouth of the harbor. Amos looked after the oar and both of the little girls looked at Amos.

"What are we going to do now?" asked Amanda. "We can't ever get back to sh.o.r.e."

CHAPTER VIII

ON THE ISLAND

Amos made no answer to his sister's frightened exclamation. He was well used to the harbor, as he often went fis.h.i.+ng with his father, and had been on cruises of several days. Tide and wind both took the boat swiftly toward Long Point, a low, narrow sand-beach, which ran out into the harbor.

"We'll run straight into Long Point if the wind don't change," said Amos.

Anne had held fast to her line and now felt it tugging strongly in her grasp.

"I've caught something!" she exclaimed, "and I don't believe I can ever pull it in."

Amos reached across and seized the line. "Gee!" he exclaimed, "I'll bet it's a cod," and he pulled valiantly. It took all the boy's strength to get the big fish into the boat. "I'll bet it weighs ten pounds," declared Amos proudly, quite forgetting in his pleasure over the big fish that the boat was still moving swiftly away from the settlement.

"Amos, Amos, just see how fast we are going," said Amanda; "we'll be carried right out to sea."

"Well, then some vessel will pick us up and bring us back," answered her brother, "but it looks now as if we would bring up on Long Point, and we can walk home from there easy enough. It's only a couple of miles."

"Perhaps we could get home before they missed us," suggested Anne, hopefully.

Amos nodded; he was still busy with the big fish, but in a few moments he began to look anxiously ahead.

"The wind's pulling round to the southeast," he said. "I guess we sha'n't hit Long Point after all."

"We're going right into Wood End," declared Amanda, "or else to House Point Island. Oh, Amos, if we land on that island n.o.body will ever find us."

"It will be better to land anywhere than to be carried beyond Race Point,"

said Amos; "the wind is growing stronger every minute."

The three children no longer felt any interest in their fish-lines. Amos had drawn his line in when they started off from sh.o.r.e, and Amanda had let go of hers when the first oar was lost. Anne was the only one who had kept a firm hold on her line, and now she drew it in and coiled it carefully around the smooth piece of wood to which it was fastened.

"I'll get this boat ash.o.r.e some way," declared Amos boldly; "if we run near any land I'll jump overboard with the painter and pull the dory to sh.o.r.e. I'll get up in the bow now so's to be ready."

Neither of the little girls said anything. Amanda was ready to cry with fear, and Anne was watching the sky anxiously.

"The sun is all covered up with clouds," she said, and before Amos could answer there came a patter of raindrops. The wind, too, increased in force and the waves grew higher. Anne and Amanda crouched low in the boat, while Amos in the bow peered anxiously ahead.

Within the curve of the sh.o.r.e of Race Point lay House Point Island, where Amos hoped they might land. It was a small island partly covered with scrubby thickets but no tall trees, and with shallow water all about it.

Amos was sure that he could pull the clumsy boat to sh.o.r.e if the wind would only set a little in that direction. The September afternoon was growing late, the sky was now completely overcast, and the rain falling steadily.

"We're getting near the island," said Amos. "I'll slide overboard in a minute, and all you girls need do is keep still till I tell you to jump,"

and Amos, the painter of the dory in one hand, slipped over the high bow of the boat and struck out for sh.o.r.e. He was a strong swimmer, and managed to change the course of the boat so that it swung in toward the shallow water, and in a few minutes Amos got a foothold on the sand, and pulled strongly on the rope until the boat was well out of the outward sweep of the current.

"Now jump out," he commanded; "you on one side, Anne, and Amanda on the other, and take hold of the side and help pull the boat ash.o.r.e."

The two girls obeyed instantly, and the three dripping children struggled up the beach, pulling the dory beyond reach of the tide.

"We must be sure this boat is safe," said Amos; "if we can get it up a little further, we can tip it up on one side and crawl under and get out of the rain."

The codfish, plaice and flounder Amos took out carefully and carried to a large rock further up the beach. "We'll have to eat those fish if we stay here very long," he said.

It grew dark early and the children, under the shelter of the boat, peered out at the rus.h.i.+ng waves, listened to the wind, and were very glad that they were on sh.o.r.e, even if it was an island and miles away from home.