The Wreck of The Red Bird - BestLightNovel.com
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"That's so," said Jack. "That must be the first thing thought of, but still it seems to me we should do something for our own defence. You see, Ned, if they should attack us, we are helpless. We haven't a thing to defend ourselves with, now that the gun is gone, and it isn't right to trust too much to those people's good-nature."
"Well, what can we do?"
"A good many things; I don't know exactly what will be best as yet, but we must think it out while we work on the boat. Then we can compare notes and do whatever is best. We'll work on the boat until dinner-time, and then give the afternoon to our defences. Perhaps we can make so good a beginning that we needn't spend more than an hour or two each day on that work after to-day."
"All right," said Ned; "now let's get to work on the boat."
With a will the three boys set to work. The stem- and stern-posts of the new boat were securely fastened to the keel, and the difficult task of setting up the ribs was begun. These ribs were so broken that it required not a little planning and contriving to make them answer the purpose; but Jack was very ingenious, and under his direction Ned and Charley managed to do some very clever splicing and bracing, while Jack himself dealt with the most difficult problems.
By mid-day about half the ribs were in their place.
"We can begin to see the shape of our new boat," said Ned, "and I'm not sure she isn't going to be prettier than the old _Red Bird_."
"By the way," said Jack, "what are we to name her?"
"The Phoenix," suggested Charley; then he added: "No that won't do, because it isn't a case of rising from ashes. The _Red Bird_ wasn't burned."
"No," said Ned, "that would be very absurd. Suppose we call her Sea-Gull, because she came to us--in her timbers at least--from the sea."
"Better call her 'axe, hatchet, and hunting-knife,'" said Jack, "because we are making her with those tools. But if we must be poetical and suggestive, why not call her Aphrodite? She, like that fabled G.o.ddess, is sprung from the foam of the sea."
"_Aphrodite_ it is," shouted Jack's companions, and Charley added:
"You're the most cla.s.sical and poetic youth of the party, Jack, if you do pretend to sneer at us for our sentimental fancy for an appropriate name."
"Very well," replied Jack, "you're welcome to think so; but just now I want my dinner worse than any thing else, and that isn't a mere sentiment I a.s.sure you."
Dinner over, the preparations for defence were begun.
"What plan have you thought of, Jack?" Charley asked.
"Let me hear from you and Ned first," answered Jack.
"Well, I've thought of earthworks," said Charley; "they say they are the best fortifications."
"Against cannon, yes," said Ned; "but it's only because cannon can't batter them down as they can masonry. Our problem is a very different one, because our savages haven't any cannon. What we have got to do is not to make fortifications that can't be battered down by artillery, but to fence ourselves in in some way so that the negro squatters can't get at us."
"Well, what's your idea for that?" asked Charley.
"A stockade."
"Details?" queried Jack.
"My notion is," answered Ned, "to set a line of stockade around the camp, running it out into the water on each side, making a big 'C' of it. If we make it ten feet high and slope it outward, it will puzzle the squatters to get over it, and from the inside we can beat them off."
"But how shall we make the stockade?" asked Jack.
"Why, by digging a trench first, and setting timbers in it, sloping them at the proper angle, and filling in with earth."
"But couldn't a strong man pull a timber down by jumping up and hanging to it with his hands?" asked Charley.
"Perhaps so, if each timber stood alone," said Ned, "but we'll set a row of them in the ditch, and then roll a log in behind them before filling up. Then we'll set another row and roll in another log, and so on. Then, in order to pull down a post it will be necessary to lift the whole of the log that is behind it, together with all the earth that lies on top of the log, and that is more than any half dozen men can do."
"That's an excellent idea," said Jack, after thinking awhile, "but the job is too big to be completed to-day. We'd better follow my plan first, and make the stockade hereafter."
"What's your plan?"
"To build a sort of wall of timber around the camp. It isn't half so good as a stockade, because of course it is easily climbed over; but it is better than nothing, and will do for one night."
"But I don't see," said Charley, "that we can build a timber wall half so quickly as we can make the stockade. To do it we have got to cut enough logs to make a pile all around the camp, and that will take ten times as many logs as it will to make the stockade."
"That is true," said Jack, "and, besides, small timbers, five or six inches in diameter, will do as well for the stockade as big logs, and in the present state of our axe that is a consideration not to be despised.
I surrender. Ned's plan is by odds the best one. Let's get to work at it, and if we don't finish it to-day, we'll patch up the deficiency in some way. Luckily we have digging tools."
The soil of the coast and islands of South Carolina is a light vegetable mould, mixed with sand, and below it there is sand only. There are no rocks, no stones, no pebbles even, and no stiff clay; and all this was greatly in the boys' favor. The trench grew very rapidly as they worked. Jack and Ned dug, while Charley, who was more expert with the axe than either of his companions, cut down small trees and trimmed them into shape for the stockade, making each about fourteen feet long, so that when set in the ditch it would project about ten feet above ground.
The digging of the ditch was the smallest part of the task. Its length, in order to enclose the hut, the well, and the boat, had to be about one hundred and fifty feet, so that a great many sticks of timber were necessary.
"We must set them about six inches apart," said Jack, "so as to use as few as we can at first. If necessary, we can fill in the gaps afterward; but a man can't get through a six-inch crack, and by setting them in that way each post, with its half of the two cracks, will occupy about a foot of s.p.a.ce."
But to cut a hundred and fifty pieces of timber with a dull axe was no small job, and when night came on the boys had only twenty-five of them set up in their places, while as many more were ready for use. This was discouraging, and in their weariness Ned and Charley felt very much disheartened indeed. Jack alone kept his spirits up.
"It's very good work so far as it goes," he said, looking at the line of timbers all leaning outward from the camp, "and when we get it done it will puzzle all the squatters in South Carolina to take our fort."
"Yes, if we ever do get it done," said Charley, despondently.
"Now, Charley," said Jack, "none of that. We've been in a tighter place than this, and you especially ought not to be downhearted. You're ever so much better off than you were this time last night, when that darkey had you treed; and you're better off now than Ned is, with his game foot."
"Poor fellow," said Charley, looking at Ned as he limped into the hut with difficulty.
"The fact is," continued Jack, "we're tired out, and so things look blue to us, but they'll look better in the morning. You see we got no sleep last night, besides wearing ourselves out with anxiety and excitement, and we have worked like convicts all day. We'll feel better and brighter after we get some sleep, and things that look gloomy and discouraging now will look bright and hopeful enough to-morrow morning."
"That's true," said Ned, coming out of the hut again, "and it would be much better for us if we could quit work right now, and sleep for ten hours without waking, but we can't."
"Why not?" asked Charley, who was utterly worn out.
"Because we've some more work to do that must be done before we sleep,"
answered Ned. "What we have done for defence is of no good at all as it stands. We must have a barrier around the camp to-night."
"How shall we make one?" asked Jack.
"With brush. We have plenty of it already cut in the shape of the tree tops we've trimmed off in getting our stockade poles."
"Brush won't make a very good defence," muttered Charley.
"No, but it will be much better than no defence at all," replied Ned.
"It isn't easy to climb over a well-packed brush pile, particularly if the brush is so laid that all the branches point outward, and that's the way we'll lay it. It won't take long to make a wall of that kind, and we can remove it little by little, as we set the poles hereafter."
This plan commended itself to Jack, and Charley submitted. Poor fellow, he was too weary to take any active interest even in plans for defence.