The Banner Boy Scouts Afloat Part 9

"Going on eleven; and I had my breakfast awful early!" remarked Little Billie.

"And I had hardly a bite--reckon I was too much excited to eat--so I'm mighty near starved right now," declared Dan Tucker; but then the boys had known him to put up that same sort of a plea only an hour after devouring the biggest meal possible, so they did not expect to see him collapse yet awhile from weakness through lack of food.

All the same, Paul agreed that it might serve to distract their minds if they did have lunch. He also asked Jud to get in communication with those on the other boat, if the rain had let up enough for them to exchange signals, and by means of the flag, tell them what those on the _Comfort_ meant to do.

Just as Bobolink, who answered, had informed them that those under Jack were about to follow the same course, Paul took another glance at his rude water gauge.

When he drew in his head, Jud, who had been waiting to tell what the others reported, saw that Paul was smiling as though pleased.

"What's doing, Commodore?" he asked.

"The water has risen half an inch, and is still going up," replied Paul.

At that there was a roar of delight--only Old Dan Tucker was so busy watching the lunch being got ready, he did not seem to hear the joyous news.

CHAPTER IX

ON THE SWIFT RADWAY

"Let me work my flags a little, and tell the other boat the news!"

suggested Jud; and as no one objected he got busy.

It was good practice, and he had something worth while to communicate, so Jud enjoyed the task.

By the time he was through, lunch was ready, the coffee having boiled enough to please the most critical among the boys.

"Rain seems to be letting up some," remarked Gusty Bellows, as they gathered around to discuss what was to be their first meal of the trip.

"Oh! I hope it isn't going to tantalize us, and raise our hopes only to dash 'em down again," said Gusty.

"From the signs I don't think we're through with it all yet," Paul observed; and as they had considerable faith in the acting scout master as a weather prophet, there arose a sigh of satisfaction at this remark.

"Take a look, and see if she's still moving up the scale, Paul," begged the anxious Phil Towns.

When this had been done, there was a look of eager expectancy on every face.

"Over a full inch since the start," Paul reported.

"And that's nearly half an hour back," complained Gusty. "Gee! if it goes up as slow as that, we'll be camping here at sun-down, sure, fellers."

"Oh! I don't know," Paul put in, confidently; "you must remember that the rain has fallen all over the watershed that supplies both these rivers; and this ca.n.a.l now serves as a link between the two. If either one rises a good deal, we're just bound to get the benefit of that little flood. Even at an inch an hour we could be moving out of this before a great while. And I expect that the rise will do better than that, presently. Just eat away, and wait. Nothing like keeping cool when you just have to."

"Yes, when you tumble overboard, like I did once on a time," chuckled Jud. "I kept perfectly cool; in fact, none of you ever saw a cooler feller; because it was an ice-boat I dropped out of; and took a header into an open place on the good old Bushkill. Oh! I can be as cool as a cuc.u.mber--when I have to."

An hour later Paul announced that the rise had not only kept up as he predicted, but was increasing.

"Here's good news for you, fellows," he remarked, after examining his post, "if it keeps on rising like it's doing right now, we'll be starting in less than another hour!"

"Whoopee! that suits me!" cried Gusty, enthusiastically.

"Ditto here," echoed Jud. "I never was born for inaction; like to be doing something all the time."

"So do I," Paul observed, quietly; "but when I find myself blocked in one direction I just turn in another, and take up some other work. In that way I manage not only to keep busy, but to shunt off trouble as well. Try it some time, Jud, and I give you my word you'll feel better."

But that next hour seemed very long to many of the impatient boys. They even accused the owner of the watch of having failed to wind it on the preceding night, just because it did not seem inclined to keep pace with their imagination.

The water was rising steadily, if slowly, and some of them declared that there was now a perceptible motion to the boat whenever they moved about.

Urged on by an almost unanimous call, Paul finally agreed to start the motor again, and see what the result would be. So Jud sent the order to the second boat by means of his signal flags.

When the cheerful popping of the _Comfort's_ exhaust made itself heard, there was an almost simultaneous cheer from the scouts.

"We're off!" they shouted, in great glee.

"Goodbye, old mud bank!" cried Gusty, waving his hand in mock adieu to the unlucky spot where so much precious time had been wasted. "See you later!"

"Not much we will!" echoed Joe Clausin. "I've got that spot marked with a red cross in my mind, and if this boat ever gets close to it again, you'll hear this chicken cackle right smart. It's been photographed on my brain so that I'll see it lots of times when I wake up in the night."

"How about the other boat?" asked Paul, who was stooping down to fix something connected with the motor at the time, and could not stop to look for himself, although he could hear the throbbing of the _Speedwell's_ machinery.

"Oh! she slid off easier than we did, I reckon," remarked Old Dan Tucker, now snuggled down comfortably, and apparently in a mood to take things easy, since it would be a long time between "eats."

"Tell them to go slow, all the same, Jud," Paul remarked.

"You don't seem to trust this creek as much as you might, Paul?"

chuckled Gusty, who was handling the wheel, during the minute that Paul was busy.

"Well, after that experience I confess that I'm a little suspicious of all kinds of mud banks. They're the easiest things to strike up an acquaintance with, and a little the hardest to say goodbye to, of anything I ever met. Give her a little twist to the left, Gusty. That place dead ahead don't strike me as the channel. That's the ticket. I guess we missed another slam into a waiting mud bank. Now I'll take the wheel again, if you don't mind."

"Rain's over!" announced Little Billie.

"Looks like it, with that break up yonder," Jud remarked, glancing aloft.

"Hope so, anyhow. We've had all the water we needed, and if it kept on coming we'd be apt to find things kind of damp up there at the island."

The mention of that word caused several of the boys to glance quickly at each other. It was as though a s.h.i.+ver had chased up and down their spinal columns. For Joe and Little Billie, and perhaps Gusty Bellows, were not quite as easy in their minds about that "ghost-ridden" island as they might have been; although, if taken to task, all would doubtless have stoutly denied any belief in things supernatural.

The _Comfort_ acted as the pilot boat, and led the way, slowly but surely, with the _Speedwell_ not far behind. The latter had one or two little adventures with flirting mud banks, but nothing serious, although on each occasion the cries of dismay from the crew could be plainly heard aboard the leading craft.

And so they came in sight of a river that had a decided current, after the smart shower had added considerably to its flow. By now the sun was s.h.i.+ning, and the rain clouds had about vanished, being "hull-down" in the distance, as Jud expressed it; for since they were now on a voyage, he said that they might as well make use of such nautical terms as they could remember.

"That's the roaring Radway, I take it," observed Gusty, as all of them caught glimpses of the river through the trees ahead.

"Just what it is," replied Paul; "and as it has quite a strong current, we're going to have our hands full, pus.h.i.+ng up the miles that lie between here and our camping place."

"But we c'n do it before dark; can't we, Paul?" asked Phil Towns.