Frank, the Young Naturalist Part 14

In a few moments a sudden filling of the sails announced that they had caught the breeze. The oars were drawn in, and every sheet hauled taut, and, when they rounded the head of the island, not one of the squadron was in sight.

"I expected," said Harry, speaking in a loud voice, so that the others could hear, "that they would feel the wind long before this."

"Even if they had," answered Frank, "we could have beaten them easily enough. You see, when they come around the foot of the island, they will be some distance below the long dock, and the current will carry them still further down, while we are above it, and can sail right down to it. Here they come!"

The boys looked down the river, and saw the men-o'-war rapidly following each other around the foot of the island.

"I guess they have discovered their mistake before this time," said William. "Now," he continued, as he drew his mainsail down a little closer "the Champion is going to be the first to sail into the creek."

"That's the game, is it?" said Frank. "Ben, perch yourself up on the windward side, and we'll see which is the best boat."

Ben did as he was desired, and the little vessels increased their speed, and bounded over the gentle swells as if some of their crews'

spirit had been infused into them. They had started nearly even--the Alert and Champion being a little in advance of the Speedwell--and the boys knew that the race was to be a fair trial of the speed of their boats. The Alert and Speedwell had never been "matched" before, and the boys were anxious to learn their comparative speed. The former was the "champion" boat of the village, and Harry and George were confident that Frank's "tub," as they jokingly called it, would soon be distanced. Frank thought so, too; but the reputation of owning the swiftest boat in the village was well worth trying for, and he determined to do his best.

Since his race with the Champion, he had made larger sails for his boat, and added a flying-jib and a gaff-topsail, and he found that her speed was almost doubled.

The Champion soon fell behind, and the two rival boats were left to finish the race, which, for a long time, seemed undecided. But, at length, the Speedwell, with her strong mast groaning and creaking under the weight of the heavy canvas, began to gain steadily, and soon pa.s.sed the Alert. Ten minutes' run brought them across the river; and when Frank, proud of the victory he had gained, rounded the long dock, the Alert was full four rods behind.

The breeze was rapidly dying away, and not one of the coast-guards had yet reached the sh.o.r.e. Some of them had been carried almost a mile below the creek, and lay with the sails idly flapping against the masts.

Frank and Ben sailed slowly along up the creek, and, when they arrived at the end of the dock, the Speedwell was "made fast," and the boys started to get their mail.

As they entered the post-office, Frank stepped up to the "pigeon-hole," and the postmaster handed him two letters; one was addressed to his mother, and the other bore his own name, written in a full, round, school-boy's hand.

"Ben," he exclaimed, as he broke the seal, "I've got a letter from Archie. I wrote to him a month ago; I should think it was about time to get an answer."

"See if he says any thing about getting a letter from me," said Ben.

"I haven't heard from him in a long time."

Before proceeding further, it may not be improper to say a word about Archie Winters. He was, as we have already said, Frank's cousin, and lived in the city of Portland. He was just Frank's age, and, like him, was kind and generous; but he was not the boy for books. When in school, he was an obedient and industrious pupil, and learned very readily; but, when four o'clock came, he was the first to lay aside his books. He was very fond of rural sports, and, for a city boy, was a very expert hunter; he even considered himself able to compete with Frank. He was also pa.s.sionately fond of pets, and, if he could have had his own way, he would have possessed every cat and dog in the city. His father was a wealthy s.h.i.+p-builder, and Archie was an only child. But he was not, as is generally the case, spoiled by indulgence; on the contrary, his parents always required his prompt and cheerful obedience, and, when out of their sight, Archie was very careful to do nothing of which he thought his parents would not approve. Every vacation he paid a visit to his cousin, and sometimes staid until late in the winter, to engage in his favorite sport. He was well known to the village boys, among whom his easy and obliging manners had won many a steadfast friend.

But let us now return to the letter, which ran as follows:

PORTLAND, _June_ 28, 18--.

DEAR COUSIN: Your letter of the 16th of last month was duly received, and, I suppose, you think it is about time for me to answer it. They say that a person who is good at making excuses is good for nothing else; but, I suppose, you will expect some apology for my seeming neglect. You perhaps remember hearing your mother speak of James Sherman, a cousin whom we had never seen. About two weeks since, father received a letter from his mother, stating that she and James would be at our house in about three days. Well, they came agreeably to notice, and I have had the pleasure of entertaining our cousin ever since. I have had to pilot him around, and show him all the sights, and I have had time for nothing else.

I will not tell you what sort of a fellow he is; I will leave you to judge of his general character, etc. He and his mother are now on their way to Lawrence, and they expect to be at your house about the 6th (July). They intend to remain about two weeks. When I saw them getting into the train, and knew that in a few days they would be with you, I wanted very much to accompany them. But mother says _one_ noisy boy in the house is sufficient. (I wonder whether she means you or James!) But as soon as they have ended their visit, if nothing happens, you may expect to see our family landing from the Julia Burton, some fine morning. I have been pent up in the city now almost six months, and I am impatient to get into the country again--especially among the trout-streams about your quiet little village.

I have often thought of the sport we had the day we went up to Dungeon Brook. I know it rained hard, but the string of trout we caught beat any thing of the kind I ever happened to see.

But I've got some good news for you. Father has decided to spend part of the winter at Uncle Joe's, and he promises to take you and me with him; so you can begin to pack up your duds as soon as you wish.

That trout-pole you made for me last winter met with a serious accident a few days since. One of my schoolmates invited me to go up the river with him, and try a perch-bed he had accidentally discovered. I had sent off my heavy pole to the painters, so I was obliged to take my trout-pole. I was afraid that I should break it, but it behaved beautifully for about two hours, during which time I drew in sixty fine perch and rock-ba.s.s--some of the former weighing between one and two pounds--and I began to think that the pole was too tough to break. But I was very soon convinced of my mistake, for, as bad luck would have it, I hooked on to a black-ba.s.s.

I thought I handled him very carefully, but, before we could land him, he broke my pole in three pieces; but the line held, and he was soon floundering in the boat. He was a fine fellow--a regular "sockdologer"--weighing six pounds and a half. But I heartily wished him safe in the bottom of the river. I have laid the pole away, and intend to bring it to you for repairs.

But it is ten o'clock, and father suggests that, if I wish to get to the post-office before the mail closes, I had "better make tracks." So I must stop. Love to all.

Yours affectionately, A. Winters.

P.S.--Please tell Ben and Harry that I will answer their letters immediately. A.W.

By this time the rest of the smugglers had arrived, and, as soon as Frank had run his eye over the letter, and began to fold it up, George inquired,

"Well, what does he say? Did he receive Harry's letter?"

"Yes, and also one from Ben. He says he will answer them at once."

After a few moments' conversation, the boys separated, and started for home, expressing themselves highly delighted at Frank's way of spending the Fourth.

The day on which Mrs. Sherman and her son were expected at length arrived. As a fine breeze was blowing, Frank and his sister--accompanied, of course, by Brave--stepped into the Speedwell, and started to enjoy a sail on the river.

It was now the summer vacation, and the boys were determined to have plenty of recreation after their long siege of study; and, when Frank reached the mouth of the creek, he found the river dotted with white sails as far as he could see. Several of the boats had started on fis.h.i.+ng excursions, but the majority of them were sailing idly about, as if nothing particular had been determined on.

Frank turned the Speedwell's head down the river, and soon joined the little fleet. He had hoisted every st.i.tch of canvas his boat could carry, and she flew along, pa.s.sing several of the swiftest vessels, and finally encountered the Alert. The race was short, for the Speedwell easily pa.s.sed her, and George and Harry were compelled to acknowledge that, to use their own expression, "the Alert was nowhere."

In about two hours the Julia Burton was seen rounding the point, and a loud, clear whistle warned the villagers of her approach. Frank turned the Speedwell toward home, and arrived at the wharf about ten minutes after the steamer had landed.

As they sailed along up the creek, Julia suddenly exclaimed,

"I wonder who those people are!"

Frank turned, and saw a lady just getting into a carriage, and a boy, apparently about his own age, stood by, giving orders, in a loud voice, to the driver, about their baggage. Both were dressed in the hight of fas.h.i.+on, and Frank knew, from the description his aunt had given his mother, that they were the expected visitors.

As soon as the boy had satisfied himself that their baggage was safe, he continued, in a voice loud enough to be heard by Frank and his sister,

"Now, driver, you're sure you know where Mrs. Nelson lives?"

"Yes, sir," answered the man, respectfully.

"Well, then, old beeswax, hurry up. Show us how fast your cobs can travel."

So saying, he sprang into the carriage, and the driver closed the door after him, mounted to his seat, and drove off.

"Why," said Julia, in surprise, "I guess that's Aunt Harriet--don't you?"

"Yes," answered her brother, "I know it is."

"I am afraid I shall not like James," continued Julia; "he talks too loud."

Frank did not answer, for he was of the same opinion. He had inferred from Archie's letter that James would prove any thing but an agreeable companion.

The brisk wind that was blowing carried them rapidly along, and, in a few moments, they came to a place where the road ran along close to the creek. The distance to Mrs. Nelson's, by the road, was greater, by a quarter of a mile, than by the creek, and, consequently, they had gained considerably on the carriage. Soon they heard the rattling of wheels behind them, and the hack came suddenly around a turn in the road.

James was leaning half-way out of the window, his cap pushed on one side of his head, and, not knowing Frank, he accosted him, as he came up, with his favorite expression.

"Hallo, old beeswax! Saw-logs must have been cheap when you had that boat built. You've got timber enough there to finish off a good-sized barn."