Читать книгу The River Fury - H. A. Cody - Страница 3

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Dawn found them drifting down stream on the ebb of a lazy tide. There were twelve in all, squat, battered river craft, deal-laden from mills up river. They had come out of the night, shadowy and spectral, with sails empty, and a veil of land fog shrouding spars and masts. With the lifting sun, the air cleared and the sails gleamed white. Between soft verdant banks they glided steadily onward. Tall trees of elm, ash, birch and maple reflected their graceful forms in the liquid mirror at their feet, as if dipping their colors to the passing boats. As the vessels drifted, the sun rose higher and slowly dispelled the tenuous wreathes of hovering fog.

At the turn of the tide a breeze winged in from the sea. The sagging sails filled, men roused to action, and ere long the boats were beating strongly down stream. The race was now on in earnest, and the spirit of rivalry animated the hearts of those rugged rivermen.

The Flying Scud was leading, with the Snag close astern. Captain Nat stood at the wheel, and his eyes shone with pleasure as he gradually drew away from his rival. He was in a fine rollicking mood, and his face, tanned by wind and sun, beamed with animation. His strong lithe body of over six feet in height was perfectly erect, and his broad shoulders were squared as he steered the Scud on the short tack across the river. His head was bare, and his wealth of black hair was tousled by the careering wind. The joy of victory glowed in his eyes, and a smile wreathed his face as he heard the angry words of his defeated rival behind. He was as proud of his achievement on this inland river as had been his father years before when he had raced a fleet of clippers around the Horn, and brought the Nestor home as victor.

With a word to Tom Burden, his shipmate, Nat brought the Scud sharply around, and soon she was thrashing through the water on her long-leg run for a cove far off in the distance. Tom stood watching the Snag as she fell farther astern, and his old weatherbeaten face wrinkled into a smile.

“Say, Nat, it’s too bad we can’t hear Ru now. The air must be blue with his cussin’.”

“He boasted that he’d beat us on this run down,” Nat replied. “But Ru Tettle will never see the day when he can lick the Flying Scud with that old tub of his. Look where he is now. I wonder—”

He stopped suddenly and stared straight before him. His eyes had caught sight of a flag far ahead fluttering in the breeze. Tom saw it, too, and knew its meaning.

“I guess Ru’s boast’ll come true, after all,” he drawled. “That flag’s upsot our reckonin’.”

“It has, Tom,” Nat agreed. “It must be important. Mother would never signal without some good reason. It is the first time she has done it this summer. I hope there’s nothing wrong.”

“True, Nat. Yer mother’s not the kind of a woman to git scary over a mouse or a cut finger. Yes, ye’d better go ashore. But I do hate fer Ru to win out. He’ll boast of it, an’ say how he beat us, without explainin’ the reason. But it can’t be helped. When yer mother sets the signal there’s to be no goin’ by.”

With his eyes fixed upon the flag and his hands gripping the wheel, Nat ran the Flying Scud into the calmer water of the cove. Here he brought her up to the wind, and Tom dropped the anchor. Behind came the other boats, with the Snag in the lead. Like gray hawks they seemed swooping down upon their prey. Then sharp orders rang out, swinging booms creaked, sails flapped, and they were off upon another tack. Ru was at the wheel of his boat, and as he passed, he shouted out words of triumph and derision which caused Nat’s cheeks to flush and his hands to clench hard upon the spokes. Tom shook a gnarled fist after the boaster.

“Ye dirty shin-flint!” he roared. “Jist wait till I git me hands on ye.”

“Never mind that thing now,” Nat ordered. “Mother’s waiting for me on shore. You stay here, and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Mrs. Royal stood beneath the shade of a large maple tree and watched her son as he stepped ashore and pulled the small boat up on the sandy beach. There was reason for her motherly pride as Nat came to where she was standing and kissed her. He was so big, strong and manly that she seemed small by his side. Her careworn face brightened as she returned his caress.

“I am glad you have come,” she told him. “But I am sorry that I have brought you ashore. Perhaps it was foolish of me to put up the flag.”

“What is the matter, mother? Nothing wrong, I hope.”

“You can judge for yourself. It is about our sheep. They have been worried for several nights. In fact, two of them have been quite badly torn.”

“What, was it a bear?”

“No. It was our new neighbor’s dog. He is a big savage brute, and runs about at night, that is, when his mistress is not with him. He jumped out of the yard last night when I shouted at him.”

“He did! Have you spoken to its owners?”

“Oh, no. I am afraid to do so. They are a strange lot, and will not associate with their neighbors. Although they have been here only two weeks, they have antagonized all they have met.”

“Who are they, anyway, mother? And where did they come from?”

“I do not know for sure. It is rumored, however, that they came from the States. They are seldom seen in the day-time, but prowl around at night. Henry Saunders told me only yesterday about their mysterious doings. Boats come and leave their shore after dark, and lights are often seen moving between the house and the river. Henry and several others have been trying to find out what it all means, but so far they have learned nothing.”

“How many are there in this strange family?”

“Three, so I have heard. Old Mr. Sarason is an invalid who never leaves the house. Bob, his son, a big powerful fellow, and a daughter, Sylvia.”

“How do they make a living?”

“I do not know. But they must have money as they do no work.”

“Have you seen any of them, mother? I am getting quite curious about them.”

“I have seen only the daughter, and that at a distance when she is out with the dog. She spends much of her time on the river in a small boat, and is very venturesome. She is certainly a good sailor, for she goes out no matter how rough the water.”

“Does she take the dog with her?”

“I cannot say. Anyway, it’s on shore at night and very active. If something isn’t done to stop it, we shall lose our sheep. And we can’t afford that, as I have been hoping to make something from them to help pay the balance on our boat.”

“It’s a hard struggle to lift that mortgage, mother. But this summer, if things go well, we may do it. Then, I suppose, I shall be bound to the river for life.”

They were walking from the shore up to the main road. Mrs. Royal understood the meaning of her son’s words, and she was worried.

“You are tired of the river, Nat. Is that it?”

“It is. What would father think if he knew that his son is running a wood-boat up and down the river? He never dreamed that I should come to this. Neither did I. Deal carrying was such a profitable business a year ago that we thought we could make money fast if we had a vessel of our own. But the high prices have dropped, owing to the number of boats on the river, and rates are now lower than ever. I long for the sea and want to command something better than that tub out there. Father said that I can handle a clipper as well as he could. He trained me well the four years I sailed with him. Didn’t I take charge of the Nestor when father took sick on his last voyage and brought her safely home through that terrible storm when so many ships were wrecked? I did it then, and I can do it again.”

Mrs. Royal knew that what he said was true. She had been very proud of his remarkable feat, and it had been the talk of old seaman for many a day. The newspapers had also said much about it. The mention of that voyage, however, brought sad memories to her mind. As she looked out at the Flying Scud there came to her another scene of years ago when she had viewed a fine ocean clipper down in the harbour ere she first boarded it for a voyage to distant ports as the young wife of Jim Royal, one of the best Bluenose sea captains who ever sailed out of the port of Saint John. Little wonder, then, that her eyes grew misty as she thought of the changes the years had brought about. Instead of the fine clipper ship, there was nothing now but a common river boat, and unpaid for, at that.

“I used to dream that you would one day be a sea captain, Nat,” she at length replied. “We have been a sea-faring people for generations. It is a noble calling, and the sea is in our blood.”

“Your dream will come true some day,” Nat firmly declared. “When the Flying Scud is paid for, I shall let Tom run it and take command of a clipper ship. It has been the great hope of my life.”

They were standing under the shade of a large maple tree where they had stopped to rest. Mrs. Royal smiled a little at her son’s enthusiasm. He had the splendid confidence and audacity of youth. But she knew only too well how difficult it would be for him to attain to such an enviable position. Many years of training would be necessary before he could become master of a great ship. She believed, though, that he was perfectly capable of commanding such a vessel, for her husband had told her so. But ship owners were cautious men, and would entrust their vessels only to well-seasoned masters. Nat would have little or no chance, she felt sure. She did not express her opinion, however, as she did not wish to say anything that might dispel Nat’s bright vision. It would encourage him at present, and something might turn up in the future.

While she was thus thinking, Nat was looking down-river at the large expanse of water below the point. He was watching a small boat beating from the upper island towards the mainland. The sail was lifting and dipping like the white wings of some beautiful bird. It fascinated him. He believed that the girl of the Creek House was in command, and a sudden desire came upon him to meet her. He turned to his mother.

“I might as well stay for dinner,” he remarked. “I want to go over and see about that dog. It must be kept up at night, or something will happen to it.”

“Don’t do anything rash,” his mother advised as she walked along by his side. “I am really afraid of those people, and I don’t want any harm to come to you.”

“You needn’t worry, mother,” Nat laughingly assured her. “Don’t I look able to take care of myself?”

“Perhaps so. But be careful, anyway. One can never tell what those people might do.”