Harper's Round Table, October 22, 1895 Part 1

Harper's Round Table, October 22, 1895.

by Various.

SEA RANGERS.

BY KIRK MUNROE,

AUTHOR OF "ROAD RANGERS," THE "MATE" SERIES, "SNOW-SHOES AND SLEDGES,"

"FUR-SEAL'S TOOTH," ETC.

CHAPTER VII.

LEFT ON A DESOLATE ISLAND.

The damage to the _Millgirl_ was of so serious a nature that Captain Crotty instantly realized the necessity for prompt action if he wished to save his vessel. So, while shouting to the Rangers to get their bedding, provisions, and everything else movable up from the hold, and so place them beyond reach of the in-rus.h.i.+ng waters, he headed the sloop for the nearest beach. As she grounded in about eight feet of water, and while still at some distance from the sh.o.r.e, her sails were lowered, and preparations were made for transferring the pa.s.sengers and their belongings to land. Of course this disaster put a sudden end to the canoe-race that had caused it, and as the sloop's headway was checked, the entire fleet of dainty craft flocked about her. The canoe-boys were loud in their expressions of sorrow over the sad plight of the vessel, and profuse in their offers of such a.s.sistance as they could render.

The very first to make his canoe fast and scramble aboard was Tom Burgess, whose appearance was received with a shout by his fellow Rangers. But they were too busy rescuing their belongings from the impending water for any more extended greeting just then. Besides, they were too greatly excited in trying to realize the astounding fact that they were actually s.h.i.+pwrecked, a situation they had never dared hope for even in their wildest dreams of what might happen during this cruise. So Tom and his canoe friends turned in and worked with the others, while all introductions and explanations were left for some future time.

Young Jabe made trip after trip in the small boat between sloop and sh.o.r.e, carrying a big load every time, and in this work he was a.s.sisted by such of the canoes as had c.o.c.kpits of any size. Thus provisions, bedding, a huge tarpaulin, several casks of fresh water, pots, pans, and a certain amount of table-ware were soon conveyed to the beach, and there piled in a promiscuous heap. Last of all, the s.h.i.+pwrecked Rangers, to whom the whole affair was a delightful novelty, were transferred to the island. There, no longer restrained by a polite sympathy for Captain Crotty, they gave vent to their feelings in a series of whoops and howls, combined with antics that would have done credit to a band of young monkeys.

"Whoop-pee!" shouted Si Carew. "Here we are s.h.i.+pwrecked, and cast away on a desolate island. It's the real thing too, and not a bit of make-believe about it."

"Just like _Robinson Crusoe_ or _Swiss Family Robinson_," chimed in little Cal Moody, joyously kicking up the warm sand with his bare feet; "only I hope there won't be any savages or pirates."

"More like the mutineers of the _Bounty_," suggested Hal Bacon, "for we did really mutiny, you know, and came out ahead, too."

"You did!" exclaimed Tom Burgess, in open-eyed amazement. "How did it happen? Tell us about it."

So the story of the cruise and its double mutiny had to be told then and there to Tom and the other canoe-boys, who listened with envious interest.

"Well!" declared Tom, when from the confused recital of half a dozen Rangers at once he had gleaned the main points of the story. "It beats anything I ever heard of outside of a book, and I only wish I'd waited in Berks so as to come with you. But look here! You fellows haven't been over to our camp yet. So come on, and see what you think of the New York style of doing things."

The Rangers, only too ready to see or do anything new, sprang up, and would have followed him in a body, had they not been restrained by practical Will Rogers, who called out:

"Hold on, fellows! We've got our own camp to fix first. It's most sundown now, and it wouldn't be much fun working in the dark. Besides, we've got supper to think of."

"I'm thinking of it now," laughed Mif Bowers, "and wondering what we are going to do about it."

"Oh, that'll be all right," said Tom Burgess, hospitably. "You'll all come over and eat supper with us to-night, and we'll help you rig up your tent. Just wait till I run over and tell the cook."

The canoe-boys, who knew nothing of the Rangers' previous training as firemen and other things, under Will Rogers's leaders.h.i.+p, were surprised to see the businesslike manner with which these country lads set to work to make themselves comfortable. While some cut tent-poles or gathered firewood, others overhauled the big tarpaulin that was to form their tent, and provided it with stout cords at corners and sides. When it was finally raised and stretched into position, it formed a serviceable and roomy shelter, which, though lacking the whiteness of the New York tents, was decidedly more picturesque and in keeping with the Rangers'

present character of s.h.i.+pwrecked mariners. Beneath its dingy spread all the provisions and camp equipments were neatly piled on one side, while the blankets, spread on the ground above some bits of old canvas, were so arranged on the other as to make one long bed.

All this was hardly completed when the loud banging of an iron spoon against a tin pan sounded a welcome supper call from the other camp, while at the same moment Tom Burgess appeared to act as host and escort.

The canoe-boys had brought along a regular cook, and their camp consisted of a kitchen tent, a mess tent, and a big living or sleeping tent, in which, however, very few of them ever slept. It was lots more fun to lie in their canoes under the little striped canoe tents hung from the masts, and making enclosures so charmingly snug, that the Berks boys declared them even superior to the bicycle shelter tents that had so excited their admiration when they were Road Rangers.

As the sloop's galley was flooded with water, Captain Crotty and young Jabe had also accepted a supper invitation from the hospitable New-Yorkers, and while they ate, the skipper outlined his plans for the future. As the tide had already turned ebb when the wreck occurred, he had at once carried an anchor out on the side opposite to that through which the water was pouring. From this anchor a cable was extended to the sloop's mast-head, and thence led down to the deck. Here it was subjected to a heavy strain, that, as the tide fell, would careen the vessel to that side. By this means the skipper hoped to get at the hole on the opposite side and plug it. As he could only expect to do this in the crudest manner with the appliances at hand, and as he knew the leak would merely be checked without being stopped, he further proposed to leave his pa.s.sengers where they were for a few days, sail for the nearest port, where he could haul out for repairs, and return for them as quickly as possible, which proposition was hailed with delight by both the Rangers and their newly made friends.

This programme was carried out as arranged. That very evening the stranded vessel was careened by the aid of many willing hands, so that a temporary patch of tarred canvas and boards could be rudely secured over the jagged fracture that appeared in her planking just under the bend of the bilge. It was midnight before this job was finished, and the hold was pumped comparatively free of water. At daylight next morning, as the tide served and the wind was fair, the _Millgirl_, after being revictualled from the tent, sailed away with Captain Crotty at the helm, and young Jabe working wearily at the pump. Work as he might he could not gain an inch on the leak, and, in spite of the skipper's cheery a.s.surance that he would be back again within three or four days, Will Rogers, who of all the tired Rangers was sole spectator of the departure, could not repress a feeling of anxiety as the sloop slowly rounded the point and disappeared.

He was aroused from the reverie into which he had fallen by loud shoots from the canoe camp, and looking that way saw a line of naked figures tearing down the beach and das.h.i.+ng into the sparkling waters. The New-Yorkers were taking the morning plunge, without which no yachtsman nor canoe-man, who is after all only a yachtsman in a small way, fails to begin the day when he is on a cruise. This sight at once altered the current of Will's thoughts, and with a yell that effectually startled his own camp into wakefulness he tore off his clothing and took a splendid header from a jutting rock. Two minutes later every Ranger had followed him, and with the gambols of a school of young porpoises the boys from Berks were revelling in their first salt-water swim.

"Isn't it glorious!" sputtered Si Carew, as the dripping lads finally emerged from their bath. "It beats river swimming all to nothing."

"Yes, and doesn't it make a fellow feel fresh and salty?" cried Cracker Bob Jones.

"And s.h.i.+very," chattered little Cal Moody.

"And hungry," added Mif Bowers. "What are we going to do for breakfast, Will?"

Sure enough! No one had thought of that, and the Rangers had not even started a fire, while in the other camp the cook was already beating l.u.s.tily on his big tin pan.

In this emergency the canoe-boys again extended the hospitality of their mess. Moreover, they offered to do this so long as they remained on the island if the Rangers would furnish the provisions, as their own were nearly exhausted.

Of course the Berks boys readily entered into this arrangement, though Will Rogers remarked to Hal Bacon that he wished they had brought along a larger supply of provisions, and wondered how the New York boys had expected to hold out for ten days longer on the scanty allowance of food remaining in their mess-tent.

"They didn't," answered Lieutenant Hal. "They've only got to live on 'em for two days more. This is Thursday, and they are going back on Sat.u.r.day, you know."

"What!" exclaimed Will.

"Yes, didn't you know? Cousin Tom asked me last night why we didn't come sooner, and then I found out that we had made a mistake in the date, and got here during the second week of their camp instead of the first.

It'll be all right, though, for Captain Crotty is sure to be back in a few days. In fact, I think it's a lucky thing he had to leave, for he'd been certain to want us to go back when the other fellows broke camp, while now, perhaps, we can stay a whole week longer."

"Yes," replied Will, dubiously. "I suppose it's all right; at the same time I shall be mighty glad to see him coming back."

CHAPTER VIII.

WAR CANOES, CRUISERS, AND RACERS.

Never in their lives had the Sea Rangers enjoyed themselves more than they did during the two days following that of their s.h.i.+pwreck. They swam, and fished, and paddled, and watched the most exciting of match races between rival canoes, and at night gathered about the roaring camp-fires for songs, stories, and high jinks, until it seemed to them that no other form of life was half so well worth living as this. They looked back with disdain upon the quiet humdrum of Berks, with its houses and beds and school and ch.o.r.es, and regular hours for meals, and all such things. Even their fire-engine and their bicycles no longer seemed to possess the attractions that had once caused them to appear so desirable, and when Sam Ray hoped Captain Crotty would not be able to come for them in less than a month, he voiced the sentiment of every Ranger on the island.

Their sole present ambition was to become canoe-men, and all their interest was centred in the fascinating craft of their New York friends.

At the same time they found it impossible to decide which of the several types of canoe represented at the meet was the most admirable. There was the big war canoe _Kosh-Kosh_, that required a dozen paddlers to urge it over the water, and could carry as many more pa.s.sengers as well. As they dashed about the bay in this great craft, chanting what they believed to be war-songs, and uttering blood-curdling yells, they could easily fancy themselves South-Sea warriors bound on a foray, against the cannibals of some adjacent island.

Besides this huge vessel there were other paddling canoes, light open affairs in each of which two boys, transformed for the time being into Indian hunters, could glide swiftly and silently in and out of sheltered coves, or close under overhanging banks, in search of game or scalps, they cared not which.

Then there were sailing canoes of two kinds--cruisers and racers--dainty bits of cabinet-work built of cedar and mahogany, varnished and polished until they glistened in the sunlight, fitted with spars not much heavier than fis.h.i.+ng-rods, silken or linen sails, delicate-looking but unbreakable, cordage, and cunning little blocks of boxwood or aluminum that would answer equally well for watch-charms. The cruisers had open c.o.c.kpits long enough to lie down in at full length. At night these, covered by tents of striped awning cloth, and lighted by little swinging lanterns, formed the coziest of cabins. Thus housed, the cruising canoe-man could cook a meal over an alcohol lamp, eat it from a hatch-cover table, lie at his ease, and read, or turn in and sleep through rain and storm as snug and dry and thoroughly comfortable as though in his own home. "Besides having a thousand times more fun," as Tom Burgess said, while all the Rangers well agreed that he spoke the truth.

Tom owned a cruiser, and to him, of course, she was the most perfect craft in the world. "She can go anywhere that a yacht can, except, of course, across the ocean, or on voyages like that," he explained, "and into lots of places that a yacht can't, besides, such as up small streams and down rapids. You can either sail or paddle in her, and if a storm comes, all you have to do is to run your s.h.i.+p ash.o.r.e, step out, haul her beyond reach of the tide, and there you are, just as comfortable and well fixed as if you owned the biggest hotel in New York city."

Attractive as they found the cruisers, some of the Rangers thought the racers even more so. They too were decked over, but their c.o.c.kpits were only little wells--just big enough for one's feet. All else was water-tight compartment, so that, even if the canoe were rolled over and over in the water, she could not fill or sink, but would float on the surface like a bubble. The sails of a racer were twice as large as those of a cruiser, and to keep her right side up under her great spread of silk or linen the crew would "hike" himself out on the end of a long sliding deck-seat, and there, poised in mid-air, would skim above the crests of the waves with the speed and safety of a sea-bird. The racer's sails cannot be lowered, and are never reefed; but if the squall blows so heavy that the outboard weight of the crew can no longer hold the canoe up to it, he allows her to gracefully capsize, and the outspread sails lie flat on the water, while he clings to the air-tight hull, or stands on the bra.s.s centre-plate until the blow moderates. Then, using his sliding-seat as a lever, he pulls his craft once more into an upright position, scrambles aboard, and speeds away as though nothing had happened. This sort of work is like circus-riding, and only through much practice may one attain perfection at it; but as the Sea Rangers watched the movements of the swift-darting racers, it seemed to them not only the most fascinating sport in the world, but also the perfection of sailing.

They were even ready to admit that all their previous knowledge of seamans.h.i.+p and sailing was but ignorance when compared with that they were now acquiring.

As Cracker Bob Jones said: "What chumps we were to think we knew how to handle a boat before we came here. Now, though, we have got the whole thing down so fine that if ever we get a chance to sail all by ourselves, I rather guess somebody'll be surprised."