Kitobni o'qish: «The Wreck of the Red Bird: A Story of the Carolina Coast», sahifa 5

CHAPTER XII
JACK'S DISCOVERY

The harvest of seeds from which Ned and Jack were to draw their supplies, was found in an abandoned field, half a mile from the camp. Here various wild grasses and weeds grew in rank profusion, and had already ripened in the sun. Some yielded seeds so small and so few in number that it was a waste of time to thresh them; others were richer in larger seeds; while many of the weeds, particularly, gave a profuse supply of seeds almost as large as grains of wheat, but these were mostly worthless.

Ned was the recognized "scientist" of the party, and upon him devolved the task and responsibility of determining what kinds of seed to gather and what to leave. He was familiar with the ordinary plants of the country, and knew which of them were poisonous. It remained only to determine whether or not a seed, known to be harmless, was of any value as food, and Ned's method of doing this was very simple. He bit the seed to discover what he could about its flavor and general character in that way; then he split a seed and inspected it. If it seemed to consist principally of starch, gluten, and fruity matter, he accepted that kind of seed; if it appeared dry, hard, and black upon the inside, he deemed it unworthy.

Passing the point at which he had gathered seeds on the day before, Ned selected a good spot for a threshing-floor, and said:

"Now, Jack, I'll clear a space here and get ready for threshing; we'll get on faster in that way. You go off out there and gather grasses. Pretty soon I'll join you, and when we get a supply, we'll thresh awhile."

With this the boys separated. Ned worked diligently at his clearing, and Jack brought in armfuls of grass.

After awhile Ned finished his task and began to wonder what had became of Jack, who had been absent for a considerable time. He called, but Jack did not answer. Thinking nothing of the matter he went on with the work of gathering grass. Still Jack did not return, and after an hour had passed Ned became positively uneasy. He again called aloud, and Jack answered, but his voice came from a considerable distance.

Continuing his work Ned waited, and after awhile he heard Jack coming through a briar thicket, muttering complaints of some sort with a good deal of vigor.

"What's the matter, old fellow?" he asked.

"Matter enough," answered Jack, from the depths of the briar patch in which he was completely hidden; "I'm torn to pieces by the briars, and by the time I get to you I shan't have enough skin left on me to serve for patches."

"Nonsense!" said Ned; "shield your face with your arm and break right through. Your clothes are thick and stout."

"Yes," answered Jack, "so they are; but I haven't got them on."

Ned leaped to his feet, for he had been kneeling to arrange the grass for threshing. He remembered how rapidly he and his companions had been reduced in their possessions, until now they were boatless, bootless, hatless, and without regular supplies of food; and so when Jack declared that he had no clothes on, Ned at once imagined that some new calamity had befallen him.

"What!" he exclaimed. "No clothes! Why, we'll be naked savages before another week is out."

"I didn't say I had no clothes," answered Jack, still picking his way carefully through the briars. "I only said I had no clothes on, or at least none to speak of."

"Well, then, you must be out of your head," answered Ned. "Why don't you put them on?"

"Because I can't till we get to camp," and with that Jack made a final leap into the open space and stood before his astonished companion. He presented a queer appearance. For clothing he had on only his drawers and a thin undershirt. These were torn and stained with blood from many scratches. Jack's face, too, was a good deal scratched, but there was a triumphant look in his eyes which made Ned forget to look at the briar wounds. Jack's trowsers, tied at bottom and stuffed full of some heavy material, sat astride his neck, looking for all the world like the lower half of a very fat boy. His shirt, also well filled, was carried in one hand, while his coat, made into a bundle and likewise filled, was held in the other.

"What in the name of common-sense have you been stuffing your clothes with, Jack?" asked Ned in astonishment.

"Grass seed," answered Jack, throwing his burden on the ground.

"Not much," said Ned; "why it would take both of us a month to gather and thresh out that quantity."

"I thought you scientific people always recognized one fact as worth more than any number of 'must be's'; here I have the facts – a trowsers-full, a shirt-full, and a coat-full, – and yet you argue about what must be and what can't be."

"I admit the trowsers and the shirt and the coat, and I see that they are full," said Ned; "I only doubt the character of their contents. I don't believe you could have gathered such a quantity of grass seed within so short a time."

"Not of the kind that grows here, but mine are not of that kind."

"Let me look at them," said Ned.

"Not till we get to camp; I can't open the bags without spilling a lot."

"Well, tell me about it then."

"Well, I was gathering grasses over there by those tall trees, when I happened to look away toward the south. There I saw, about half a mile away, what looked like a patch of ripe wheat or oats. There were two or three acres of it down in a sort of marsh, so I went over there to see what it was. I found the little marsh covered thickly with a tall grass somewhat like oats, and all had gone to seed. The seeds are about the size of grains of wheat, but rather longer, and each grain, when threshed out, is covered with a brown husk that clings closely to the body of the grain. The seeds themselves are starchy, glutinous, and, if I am not mistaken, excellent food. It was too far to call you, so I made up my mind I would thresh some of the grass and bring away what I could of the result. I filled my shirt, coat, and trowsers, and I should have used my drawers in the same way if I could have carried any more. As it is, I've a big load."

"I should say so," answered Ned, "and a mighty good load, too, if I'm not mistaken."

"Why, what do you suppose it is?"

"Grass seed," answered Ned, "of the kind that we call rice."

"But how did it come there?" asked Jack. "Does rice grow wild?"

"Yes, sometimes. When a rice field is allowed to stand too long before cutting, the grain drops out of the heads, of course, and the next year a fair volunteer crop comes up. In this case, I suppose, the explanation is simple. When the island was abandoned during the war, there was probably a growing crop of rice in that little swamp. If so, it went to seed, and not being harvested, the seed fell to the ground, coming up again the next year only to repeat the process year after year. That's my explanation at any rate, and the only one I can think of. But come! let's go to camp. It isn't worth while now to fool away time over this grass. Now that you have found a rice field, we'll eat rice instead, and some day soon we'll go there and bring back enough to last us till we leave the island."

Upon their arrival at camp the contents of Jack's clothes proved to be, as Ned had conjectured, rough rice; that is to say, rice from which the outer husks have been removed, leaving only the closely clinging inner husk on the grain. The amount secured was sufficient to last the boys for a considerable time, and in the absence of bread, it was a thing of no little moment to them.

CHAPTER XIII
AN ANXIOUS NIGHT

Dinner was cooked and eaten as soon as possible after the return of Ned and Jack to camp, because all three of the boys were eager to make the long-deferred beginning upon the new boat.

"The Red Bird was wrecked last Thursday," said Charley, "and now it is Monday, and yet we haven't even begun to get ready to prepare to commence to build."

"Yes we have, Charley," said Jack. "We have worked diligently at the most important part of the task. We have made first-rate arrangements for food, and that is a good beginning. But we'll actually begin on the boat itself to-day. By the way, Ned, you're to be the master-builder."

"Well, I don't know about that," said Ned; "you were bragging the other day about your mechanical skill, and I'm very modest in that direction. I'm actually a clumsy hand with tools."

"No, I didn't brag," said Jack; "I only stated facts. I believe I am a better workman with tools than either of you fellows, and for that reason I'm willing to take the most difficult jobs on myself, but you must be the superintendent."

"I don't see why," said Ned.

"Because, even if you are clumsy with tools, you know more about a boat in a minute than Charley and I do in a year, and it's a good rule to put each fellow at the thing he can do best."

"All right," said Charley; "I'm the best hand you ever saw at sitting on a log and watching you fellows work, so I'll take that for my share."

"No, you won't," said Ned. "If I'm to superintend this job I'll find something better than that for you to do. But I say, Jack, it's absurd for me to try to tell you how to do things that you can do ten times as well as I."

"I don't want you to tell me how to do, but what to do; then we'll all do it. I'll take the most difficult parts, and besides that I'll give you and Charley some hints about how to do your share, perhaps."

"All right," said Ned, "I'll be superintendent if you wish."

"Very well," said Jack. "Now plan the boat, determine the dimensions, and tell us how to begin."

"Well, let me see," said Ned. "The Red Bird was twenty-four feet long in the keel – twenty-five feet over all, – and five feet wide amidships. We must allow liberally for waste in trying to use the old materials, so we'll take off six feet of length, giving the new boat a keel of eighteen feet, a total length of nineteen feet, and let the beam width take care of itself."

"How do you mean?"

"Why, we shorten amidships only; that is to say we omit the six or eight ribs that were in the middle of the old boat, and bring the next ribs forward and aft to the middle. Whatever width they give will be the width of the boat amidships. In that way we shall preserve the old proportions, while changing the old dimensions. The new boat will be, in shape, precisely what the Red Bird would have been if we had cut out six feet of her length amidships, and had then brought the two ends together."

"Yes, I see," said Charley. "What is the first thing to be done?"

"To lay a keel," said Ned. "The old keel is broken, so we must have a new one. Besides, that was double, for a centre-board, and we'll have to build without a centre-board."

"What are the dimensions of the keel?" asked Jack.

"Eighteen feet long, as nearly as we can guess, and about three inches by six or seven."

"To be set on edge?"

"Yes, and to project below the bottom. That will give steadiness to the boat."

"What is the best timber for the keel?" asked Jack.

"White oak, if we had it, but we haven't. The long-leaf yellow pine is very nearly as good, and for our purposes it is really better, because we can work it more easily. There's a fine, small, straight tree trunk just beyond the camp that will suit us precisely. It has been lying for several years apparently, and is well seasoned. We have only to cut it off the right length, split off slabs till we get a rude square, and then hew it down to the right dimensions with the axe and hatchet. That will occupy us for two days at least, so let's get to work."

The event proved that Ned had underestimated the length of time necessary for this work. The hard, flinty yellow pine, seasoned as it was, was very difficult to work. The axe and hatchet were not very sharp at the outset, and before night both were distressingly dull. The next day, what edges they had were worn away, and it was difficult to cut with them at all. Charley declared that he could do nearly as well with his teeth, but he did not try that experiment. There was no grindstone in the camp, and none to be had, of course, and so the weary boys had to make the best of a bad matter and work on as they could with the dull tools.

On Thursday the keel was not yet quite done, and the rice began to show the effects of the boys' appetites.

"I say, fellows," said Charley, "one of us must go for a fresh supply of rice."

"Yes," said Ned, "it is ripening now, and will all fall if we don't secure a good supply. You go, Charley, won't you?"

"Yes. I'm worth less at carpenter's work than either of you, so I'll go. Pull off your trowsers, both of you."

"Why, what's – " began Ned.

"Yes, I know," interrupted Charley, "I ought to take a bag, or a sheet, or, still better, the spring wagon; but seeing that we haven't any wagon, or bag, or sheet, or any thing else to carry rice in, except trowsers, I'm going to use trowsers; and remembering the tattered condition of Jack's skin after his trowserless stroll through the briars, I'm not going to use my own trowsers for a bag. So off with your pantaloons, young men, and be quick about it, for I'm going to make two trips to-day and bring in rice for the whole season."

Laughing, the boys obeyed, and Charley left them at work in their shirts and drawers. He got back to camp at dinner-time, fully loaded. After dinner he made his second trip, saying that he would return about sunset.

Sunset came at its appointed time, but Charley was not so punctual. It grew dark, and still Charley did not appear. Ned and Jack began to grow uneasy. They went out into the woods in rear of their camp and called at the top of their voices, but received no answer.

"I'll tell you what, Ned," said Jack; "we must build a beacon fire. Charley has stayed late to fill his trowser-bags, and has lost his way trying to get back."

It was no sooner said than done. Pitch pine was piled on the fire, and a blaze made that might have been seen for many miles. The boys shouted themselves hoarse too, but got no answer.

After an hour of waiting, Ned said:

"Jack, I'm going over to the rice patch to look for Charley. Something serious must have happened. You stay here and keep up a big fire. If I need you I'll call at the top of my voice, and you will hear me I think."

"But, Ned, it's an awful undertaking to go from here to the rice field on such a night. It's as black as pitch, and you are barefooted and almost naked; let me go."

"I know all that," said Ned, "but it would be cowardly to abandon Charley, and for my life I can't see that you are any better equipped for the journey than I am. You're barefooted too, and as nearly naked as I am."

"Yes, I suppose so," answered Jack, "but I don't mind for myself."

"You stay here, you great big-hearted, generous fellow!" was all that Ned said in reply, as he started away.

Both Jack and Ned knew that the journey thus undertaken would be attended by no little danger as well as sore discomfort and suffering. The deadly moccasin and rattlesnake lurk in the grass and weeds of that coast country, and the unshod boy was in peril of their fangs at every step. He was too brave a boy, however, to shrink from danger when a real duty was to be done, and so he set forth manfully. Taking a stick he struck the ground frequently, as a precaution against the danger of stepping upon any snake that might be in his path, and more than once he heard the venomous creatures hiss angrily before scurrying away.

He pressed forward too eagerly to pay due attention to briars and brushwood, and so before he reached the rice swamp his scanty clothing was nearly torn from his body and his skin was badly lacerated. His coat protected his shoulders and arms, of course, but his legs, hands, and face suffered not a little.

Meantime Jack kept up the beacon fire, suffering scarcely less with anxiety and impatience than Ned suffered from physical hurts. Poor Jack had the hard task of waiting in terror and uncertainty. He imagined all manner of evils that might have happened to Charley; then he became anxious about Ned. He shuddered to think of the dangers through which his companion must be passing. The necessity of inactivity was intolerable; Jack could not sit or stand still. He felt that he should go mad if he did not keep in motion. He paced up and down by the fire, as a caged tiger does. Finally, morbid fancies took possession of him. He imagined that he heard Ned groan in the bushes on his left. Then he seemed to hear a cry of agony from Charley in the woods on his right. Investigation revealed nothing, and Jack returned to his waiting in an agony of suspense.

It was after midnight when Ned returned, torn, bleeding, worn out with exertion, and very lame from a wound in his foot. He had trodden upon some sharp thing, a thorn or sharp spike of wood, which had thrust itself deep into the flesh of his heel, and the wound was now badly inflamed.

"Thank heaven, you are safe at any rate!" exclaimed Jack fervently. "Did you find out any thing about poor Charley?"

"Nothing," answered Ned, returning Jack's warm hand-clasp. "I went to the rice field and found the place where he had been threshing, but no other trace of him. He must have finished threshing, however, and started homeward, as he left no threshed rice there. I could not find a trail in the dark, of course, and I can't imagine what has become of Charley. I called him repeatedly, and went all around the marsh, but it was of no use. Besides, if he were anywhere in that region he would know the way home, for I could see not only the light from this fire but the blaze itself."

"Well, you stay here now and let me go," said Jack, preparing to set out.

"What's the use?" asked Ned. "I tell you I have done all that can be done until daylight. If you go you'll only run the risk of laming yourself, and then there'll be nobody fit to take up the search when morning comes to make it hopeful."

This was so obviously a sensible view of the situation, that Jack was forced, though reluctantly, to remain where he was.

Hour after hour the two boys waited and watched, keeping up the beacon fire, and occasionally investigating sounds which they heard or thought that they heard in the woods and thickets around them. Naturally they talked very little. There was nothing to talk of except Charley's disappearance, and there was little to be said about that.

It began to rain, slowly at first, and in torrents toward morning, but neither boy thought of going into the hut for shelter. Indeed, neither boy seemed conscious of the fact that it was raining at all. They were aware only of the horrible suspense in which they were passing the hours of a night which seemed almost endless.

CHAPTER XIV
IN THE GRAY OF THE MORNING

As the first flush of dawn appeared Ned said: "Jack, we mustn't lose our heads. You know what you said after the wreck. You and I have to look after Charley to-day, and we may have need of all our wits and all our strength; so, for his sake, if not for our own, we must force a full breakfast down our throats. It will steady as well as strengthen us. I don't want any thing to eat, and I suppose you don't, but we must eat for all that. We haven't had a mouthful since noon yesterday, and we'll be fit for no exertion if we go on in this way."

"That is true," answered Jack; "we must eat breakfast."

"Very well; then let's be about it, so that we may have it over by the time that it is fairly light, and then we'll lose no time in setting out."

"You can't leave camp," said Jack; "your foot is awfully swollen and your leg too."

"Yes, I know," answered Ned, "but I am going anyhow. We must find Charley, and maybe both of us will be needed when we do."

While this discussion was going on the breakfast preparations were advancing, and it was not long before the two disconsolate fellows began the difficult task of forcing food down their unwilling throats.

"What is our best plan of operations, Jack?" asked Ned.

"I scarcely know. Perhaps we'd best go round the island, one one way and the other the other, shouting and looking. Then, if either finds Charley and needs assistance the other will of course be there soon afterward."

"Hardly," said Ned. "The island is pretty large, and I suppose it is a good many miles around it. Wouldn't it be better to take a direct course?"

"How?"

"Why, by going first to the rice swamp. There we shall almost certainly be able to find and follow Charley's trail."

"Of course," answered Jack. "What an idiot I was not to think of that first! The fact is, I believe last night's anxiety, particularly while you were away, was too much for me. I lost my head a little, I think, and haven't quite found it again."

"Listen! What's that?" exclaimed Ned, rising to look. As he did so, the bushes near the shore on the left of the camp parted, and —

"Bless me! it's Charley!" shouted both boys in a breath.

"Did you think I had run away with your trowsers?" asked the cause of all their anxieties, throwing down the two pairs of pantaloons stuffed full of wet rice.

"Gracious! Charley, where have you been?"

"We've had an awful night!" exclaimed Ned.

"Do I look as though I had had a particularly pleasant one?" responded Charley. "Do my dress and general appearance indicate that I dined last evening in the mansions of the great and slept upon a bed of down?"

"Well, no," said Ned, unable as yet to share Charley's cheerfulness of mood; "but really, Charley, we have suffered a good deal. You ought to have come back to camp."

"Now, look here, fellows," said Charley, more seriously than he had yet spoken, "if you think I haven't known by instinct how much you would suffer because of my unexplained absence, you do me great injustice. My situation through the night has been none of the pleasantest, but the worst part of it has been what I have suffered thinking of your anxiety. Pray, don't imagine that I'm totally destitute of feeling."

There was a hurt tone in Charley's voice as he said this, to which Ned responded at once.

"Forgive me, Charley," he said, holding out his hand, which the other took. "I did not mean to reproach you wrongfully. I know your warm heart and generous soul."

"Yes," added Jack, "and nothing in the world could have made us so happy as your safe return. But tell us what has happened. Where have you been?"

"Not a word until food is set before me," said Charley, relapsing into his playful mood again. "I am famished."

"All right," said Ned; "we cooked enough to take with us, and we didn't eat much, so your breakfast is ready. In fact I begin to be hungry myself, now that you've got back in safety."

"So do I," said Jack; "let's begin over again, and all breakfast together."