Читать книгу The Boy Tramps, or Across Canada - James Macdonald Oxley - Страница 8

Table of Contents

Never had his chum's voice sounded so sweet to Arthur before. In his noble impulse to rescue he had not stopped to consider how, if he got the child, he would be able to keep it and himself afloat during the time that must necessarily elapse before a boat could be lowered to pick them up. But now the thoughtfulness of Bruce had solved that problem; and as the life-preserver came within his reach he grasped it with a tremendous feeling of relief, exclaiming enthusiastically:

"What a brick you are, Bruce! We'll save little Dutchie between us all right."

Meanwhile there was intense excitement on board the steamer. Mr. Gillespie had at once given the alarm, the engines had been stopped, and preparations made for lowering one of the boats as rapidly as possible.

Although not a moment was lost in this, it seemed awfully long to the anxious passengers crowded at the stern before the boat got off, the headway of the huge vessel being so great that the boys were far astern, and scarcely visible before the first oar struck the water.

But the rowers put all their strength into every stroke, and the heavy boat fairly tore through the water, which happily was not at all rough, until after ten minutes of hard pulling the welcome order "Easy all" told them they had reached their goal.

When the boat ran alongside the boys, and the men in the stern lifted them and the child carefully over the gunwale, the rowers held their oars upright in the air, and gave a mighty "hurrah!" which, making its way back to the steamship, was echoed by the relieved and rejoicing passengers who had been watching every movement of the boat with feverish eagerness.

The boys had a rousing reception on their return to the steamer, the gentlemen cheering and clapping them on the back, and pronouncing them most emphatically "the right sort," and fine, manly fellows, and so on; while the ladies, their eyes brimming with tears, felt quite ready to kiss them, all dripping as they were. As for "little Dutchie," he was fairly overwhelmed with caresses, to which he submitted with the stolidity of his race. He was also the object of many gifts, which he accepted as calmly as he did the caresses.

After Bruce and Arthur had changed their clothes they returned to the deck, where they found Mr. Gillespie on the lookout for them.

"You came out of that handsomely, my lads," said he, giving a hand to each. "You," looking at Arthur, "only did your duty under the circumstances, but it couldn't have been done better; and you," turning to Bruce, "acted like a true friend. It warmed my old heart to see you, and I tell you," he added, his face kindling, "if I'd only been twenty years younger I'd have gone over with you to make sure you were equal to the job."

"Oh, I felt pretty sure of that, thank you," responded Bruce modestly. "Arthur and I are good swimmers, and could have kept afloat a long time without the life-preserver, but I thought it was better to have it, all the same."

This incident deepened the friendship between the old man and the boys, and they were more together than ever. He seemed to enjoy keenly the stories of their school life, and they completely exhausted their stores of such for his benefit.

In return he gave them many interesting chapters from his own long and eventful life, nearly all of which had been spent in Canada; and they were absorbed listeners as he described some exciting experience in the early days of the city, or a thrilling escape from the perils of travel through regions where, not only the railway, but the post-road, was yet unknown.

In this way the boys grew so interested in Canada that they began to discuss between themselves whether they would not spend the whole summer in that country, and leave the United States for another time.

"We've only got until September, you know," argued Arthur, who entirely favored the idea, "and it's an awful big country."

"That's true enough," assented Bruce, who, however, had not his mind quite made up. "But so are the United States, and the dear only knows when we'll get another chance of seeing something of them. Don't let us decide now," he added, "wait until we've been in Canada a little while, and then see what we'll do."

Arthur agreed to this, and the matter then dropped for the time, there being plenty of other things to occupy the boys' attention.

They had grand games of shovel-board and deck-quoits, they read the books in the steamer's library when it was too stormy to be on deck, and they turned up with a good appetite at each one of the five meals so lavishly provided for all who cared to take them, so that not for a moment did time hang heavy on their hands; and presently the always welcome cry of "Land ho!" was raised, for the "Parisian" had come to the entrance of the Straits of Belle Isle, and the ocean voyage was over, the remainder of the trip being practically inland sailing.

As they passed through the Straits, and steered southward along the coast of Newfoundland. Mr. Gillespie interested the boys greatly with tales of the dangers of navigation in the great Gulf of St. Lawrence, and how many fine vessels had been wrecked on the pitiless coasts, or through collision with icebergs in the fog, or by running into one another when enshrouded in mist.

When darkness came on, the lighthouses placed here and there to warn navigators to keep off, sent their bright rays gleaming through the night, and so familiar was Mr. Gillespie with the course, that he knew each one of them as they were opened up,—Point Armour on the Labrador coast, and Point Rich on the Newfoundland side,—and he had a story for each.

That night one of the fogs so frequent in those waters enveloped the steamer, and the fog-horn was kept going steadily, much to the disturbance of the boys, who could not sleep for its mournful bellowings.

"Oh, dear, I wish that horrid thing would shut up," groaned Arthur, rolling over in his berth and trying to shut out the persistent sound by covering his head with the clothes. "It'll drive me crazy if it keeps up like that all night."

"Wouldn't you rather have it going than take your chance of having some other steamer run us down?" asked Bruce, whose habit of mind was to take the most reasonable view of anything that occurred.

"Oh, I guess this steamer can take care of herself," growled Arthur, determined not to be appeased, for he was indeed desperately sleepy. "She's too big for anything to hurt her, anyway."

"Not a bit of it," replied Bruce. "They've got to be just as careful as if she were a steam-launch. But, listen!" he exclaimed, starting up in his berth. "Is that an echo, or is it another steamer answering us?"

The boys listened breathlessly, and sure enough there could be heard in the intervals of the blasts of the "Parisian's" horn a fainter blast that evidently was not an echo, for it had a different pitch and a briefer duration.

"It is another steamer, and it's coming right toward us," said Bruce. "Now, my boy, don't you think it's a good thing our fog-horn has been kicking up such a row? See, they're signalling each other with long and short blasts so as to show how to pass."

The idea of another vessel as big and as swift as the "Parisian" emerging suddenly out of the dense obscurity and charging right at her for lack of knowledge as to her position came over Arthur so strongly that he gave a big gasp of relief, and said in quite a meek tone:

"I'll forgive the fog-horn, even if it does seem a nuisance when a fellow wants to go to sleep. I wish I could get a look at that other steamer."

But it was altogether too dense for that, even if they had been on deck, and as they listened, the sound of her warning blasts grew fainter and fainter until it was heard no more.

Shortly after this they both fell asleep despite the incessant bellowing of the horn, and had got well into the land of dreams when they were suddenly aroused by a shock that nearly tumbled them out of their berths.

Scrambling on to the floor of the stateroom they cried at the same moment:

"What's happened? Have we struck?"

But as neither could answer the other they soon saw there was nothing to learn by staying where they were, and, without more ado, they hastened to pull on some clothes, and get out into the saloon, where they found many of the other passengers already gathered in various stages of dishabille that might have been amusing at any other time.

They were all rushing about in a frantic fashion, demanding to know what had happened, and there seemed nobody competent to answer until one of the officers appeared, and was immediately surrounded by a score of excited men and women who shouted at him as though they thought him deaf.

When he was able to make himself understood, it appeared that the steamer had run down a sailing-vessel, striking her almost amidships, but that she had not sunk, being timber-laden, and her crew would all be rescued, while it was not thought that the "Parisian" had received any serious damage.

This announcement was enough to cause Bruce and others to complete dressing and to hasten on deck. Working their way to the bow they found that the steamer had not yet entirely disengaged herself from the other vessel, and there was a great flashing of lights and shouting of commands going on.

Being relieved from all anxiety as to their own safety, or that of the crew of the stricken ship, they could look on at the busy scene with easy minds.

What the captain of the "Parisian" desired was to get the wreck cleared away from the bow and drawn alongside until those on board had time to remove everything of value to the steamer, when the wreck must be abandoned to its fate.

In spite of the admirable discipline which he maintained, the suddenness of the shock and the darkness of the night confused his men at first, and they did not execute his orders with their wonted intelligence and rapidity, putting him in a towering rage, which greatly impressed the boys, who had never before seen him otherwise than in a genial mood.

Before long, however, despite the difficulties of the situation, the vessel was cut loose and drawn alongside, and all on board her reached the "Parisian's" deck with their clothes and other belongings, which, being accomplished, the steamer resumed her course. A careful examination of the fore-hold having established the welcome fact that although the bow had suffered some slight damage, it was not enough to cause a serious leak, and at the worst, only the fore-compartment would be flooded.

When the excitement had all subsided the boys went back to their berths, and as they turned in for the second time, Bruce said:

"That settles the fog-horn question, doesn't it, Arthur? If that vessel we ran down had only been blowing a horn like the steamer we met we'd have gone by her all right instead of smashing into her as we did."

"That's so, Bruce," assented Arthur sleepily; "I'll never feel mad at a fog-horn again;" and having delivered himself of this virtuous resolution, he rolled over to finish his much-interrupted night's rest.

The following morning they were steaming by the big island of Anticosti, which stands right in the heart of the St. Lawrence Gulf, and as they gave its dangerous shores a wide berth Mr. Gillespie told them many thrilling tales of the terrible disasters of which the island had been the scene.

Well had it deserved the ill-omened title of "Isle of Shipwrecks," from the day when Sir William Phipps' troop-ships were cast away upon it with the loss of hundreds of brave British soldiers until the present, when the wrecks of several fine iron steamships were still to be seen sprawling upon its merciless reefs.

The boys were also told about Gamache, the mysterious smuggler and wrecker, whose sinister renown had filled the whole Gulf in years gone by, and who was believed by the superstitious sailors to be in league with the devil, and able to exercise supernatural powers if hard pressed.

They reached Quebec on the afternoon of Friday, and on the advice of Mr. Gillespie got off the steamer to spend a day or two in looking over the old city, whose towering citadel at once made plain to them why it was known as the Gibraltar of America.

Arranging to meet their kind friend in Montreal, they bade "good-by" to the "Parisian" and betook themselves to a hotel, feeling glad enough to be on terra firma once more, full of enjoyment and interest as the trip across the ocean had been.

Immediately after dinner they set out to explore the city, with its steep, narrow, tortuous streets, its quaint old-fashioned buildings, and its foreign-looking people chattering away in a language that the instruction they had received in French at Merchiston in nowise helped them to understand.

Presently they were hailed by the driver of a very odd-looking vehicle, who seemed in a great state of anxiety to be hired.

"That must be one of those calèches Mr. Gillespie was telling us about. Let's hire him for a while and drive around. We'll get along ever so much better that way," said Arthur, always ready for something new.

It was a lovely evening, and there was a full hour of clear twilight still to come, so Bruce thought the idea a good one, and much to the gratification of the cabbie they climbed into his curious chariot, that very much resembled an ancient two-wheeled gig, and bid him drive them about for an hour.