CHAPTER VIII.
THE CAMP INVADED.
"Why, fellows, this is dead easy!" George called out, after they had been making good time for an hour or more, with the heaving sea showing no sign of taking undue advantage of the confiding little motor boats that had ventured on its placid bosom.
"Just as I told you," Jack answered, for they made sure to keep pretty close to each other while undertaking this passage. "Choose the right time, after a storm with the wind and sea gone to rest, and a little run like this is a picnic."
"But she looks pretty wide out there," remarked Nick, pointing toward the east.
"Oh! not so much," laughed Herb. "I should think that a matter of four thousand miles or so would cover it."
"Gee! whiz! that must be Africa over there, then?" Nick gasped.
"That's right!" Jack called; "but there's a trifle of haze hanging out just at present, so you can't quite see the tropical shores, with the black natives dancing around some missionary. But joking aside, boys, I think we're going to make the riffle without any trouble. Already we must be well on the way there, and no sign of wind yet."
"Perhaps when she does come it may be in the west?" suggested Josh, who did occasionally have a brilliant thought, it seemed.
"Just so, and in that case we'd be all hunky," Jack answered back; "because with a west wind we could creep in close to the shore, since there'd be no waves rolling up on the beach. Suppose we touch up for a little faster gait."
"I'm willing," George sent back. "Put it up to the Comfort as usual. We'll have to adapt our pace to what she can do."
"Yes," called out Josh from the roomy boat, "and consider yourself lucky, George, if you don't have to call on the old Ark to give you a tow before we cross that same bar at the inlet. It wouldn't be the first time; and it ain't goin' to be the last either, believe me!"
"Oh! shucks! my engine is running as smooth as silk now. I could make circles around the whole bunch if I wanted to; but what's the use? We'd better stick together, you know. Somebody might want a little help."
"Sure, somebody might," mocked Josh.
Jack had let Jimmy have the wheel. With his glasses he was scrutinizing the shore line as they made steady progress. He felt sure that he would be able to discover the right inlet long before they arrived at a point where they must alter their course in order to cross that bar which is always found at such openings.
Drawing the small amount of water their boats did, he anticipated not the slightest trouble in getting over. So as they increased their pace somewhat, Jack divided his time between watching the shore and the sky. Wind was something that would oblige them by remaining away.
They had figured on taking three hours to make the run; but it was nearer four, owing to the fact that there were some miles to pass over in leaving the creek where they had spent the preceding night, and reaching the open sea; and also because they had to go out some distance.
Jack sighted the inlet for which they were so anxiously pressing, and when the three motor boats had crossed the bar, gaining the security that lay behind the sandspits, all of them breathed easier. That night they would not see the flashing of the Henlopen light, or catch the distant gleam of the famous mariner's beacon on the point at Cape May, for they were many miles to the south, and the glow of Chincoteague Light closer at hand.
But for some time at least they need not think of danger from a rising sea. If troubles were fated to come, as was almost inevitable, they were apt to be of an entirely different character. Perhaps they would get aground in shallow waters; it might be there would be times when the little flotilla would become lost in some intricate channels connecting the numerous bays that parallel the coast, and which are by degrees being dredged by the Government, with the idea of at some dim future date having an inland coast canal by which even small vessels of war may pass north and south.
Again, Jack had before him his chart, printed by the Department at Washington, and supposed to be perfectly reliable as to depth of water, position of lights and shoals, the lay of the many sinuous creeks, and all such important matters upon which the voyager over these sounds must depend for safe progress.
"Looky there, what's that over yonder on the water—gulls?" called Nick, after they had been moving along in procession for some time, the Tramp leading the way—for George realized that he must curb his speed propensity while navigating these deceptive shallow waters, unless he wanted to take chances of wrecking his beloved craft on an unseen oyster reef, or a sandbar that lay just below the surface.
"I reckon they're ducks," quoth Josh, after a look. "How about it, Jack?"
Jack did not have to even make use of the glasses before replying in the affirmative.
Nick was all excitement at once.
"Say, why can't we sneak up on 'em, and knock about six on the head?" he hastened to demand; and then stooped down to drag out George's shotgun; at which the others shouted to him to be careful, for he was making the boat wobble fearfully.
"Well, we might give them a try," said Jack, with a smile; "but even if we did manage to bag a bunch, I reckon now, you wouldn't think them worth cooking."
"Why not; I've heard that even fishy ducks can be eaten, if you take the trouble to draw the feathers and skin off together?" Nick declared.
"Which is correct, all right, as far as it goes," Jack continued, placidly; "but I'd defy even such an expert as Josh here, to cook those ducks so as to disguise the woody flavor!"
"Haw! haw! haw! Jack means they're only a bunch of wooden decoys—stool ducks!" roared Josh, some of the others echoing his merriment. "Perhaps you c'n digest pretty near anything, you're such a walking cemetery, Nick; but I bet you draw the line at a wooden duck, hey?"
Nick relapsed into silence, but George took up the talk.
"Ain't this early in October for duck hunting, Jack? Some of the States don't allow it till November, you know," he inquired, seeking information.
"Yes; and perhaps this fellow is only giving his stools an airing, after all, to see how they float; because the main raft of ducks won't be here till later."
During the day they landed at one or two docks, where the customary groups of staring natives surrounded them, asking questions, examining the clever little craft beside which their own looked cumbersome, though sea-worthy, and giving such a sad mixture of information that in the end Jack was glad he had his reliable charts to fall back on, since one man's account seemed to be exactly contradictory in comparison with the next one.
The boys believed that it would be wise to halt for the night away from any of the settlements along the sound or bay. Perhaps these rough looking fellows might be all right, and just as honest as they make them; but previous experiences had warned Jack and his chums that there are always some bad characters belonging in every isolated town and hamlet; and there was no use tempting such rascals more than seemed necessary.
Accordingly, when the afternoon drew near its end, they began to cast about for a camping place. To the delight of Nick they had been able to pick up a duck here and there, until there were now four on board.
"If we could only get a brace more," he kept saying; "or even one might do, as Josh eats so little; how nice it would be. Jack, don't you suppose, now, you might creep up behind that island yonder, drop ashore, since the law forbids one to shoot ducks from a craft driven by sails or any motive power except a fellow's muscles, and get a shot into the lovely little bunch that is sporting there?"
"Anything to oblige," was the response;
and with that the head of the Tramp was turned aside, so that the skipper could presently jump ashore.
His crawl across the reedy island was not as pleasant as one might wish; but when he fired both barrels at the rising flock, Nick nearly laughed himself sick to see not only two, but five birds fall with as many splashes into the water.
One wounded duck managed to get away. Jack declared it must have dived, and held on to some of the eel grass at the bottom, preferring death to falling into the hands of duck-eating human beings; for this often happens, as every hunter knows.
Again an oven was to be made, and they hoped to have a feast for the next day.
"What's to hinder our sleeping on shore tonight, fellows?" asked Josh, as they found a pretty good place for a camp.
"Oh! please do!" cried poor, tortured Nick; "I'd love to rest comfy for just once again."
"Huh!" grunted stubborn George, "that suits me first rate, because I insist on keeping to my quarters aboard, and there'll be plenty of room. Besides, I won't wake up every little while when you roll over, thinking the boat is going to turn turtle."
Upon being put to a vote, five of them were in favor of trying it. So about the time they began to feel sleepy, blankets were brought from the boats, and each fellow started to make himself as comfortable as possible under the circumstances.
Jack had selected his sleeping place with an eye to its convenience; also the fact that by raising himself on his elbow he could have a survey of the entire camp, counting the three boats. And it might have been noticed that both he and Herb made sure to take their guns to bed with them, a fact Nick saw with a bit of uneasiness.
The Tramp and the Comfort were both fastened up, for it was possible to lock their cabins in an emergency. George was under his canvas shelter, trying to make himself believe he fully enjoyed the sensation of loneliness.
Finally a silence came over the camp on the shore. The fire died down gradually, for no one bothered to keep it going, the night being anything but cold.
Jack was always a light sleeper. He had trained himself to awaken if there was anything unusual going on. And when he suddenly opened his eyes, seeing the stars over his head, he knew instinctively that it was not far from daybreak. He also had a sort of intuition that there was some one or something moving close by.
And so, Jack, reaching out and securing his gun, began to softly raise his head, hoping that the starlight would be strong enough to let him see what was going on. What discovery he made gave him something of a little shock.
CHAPTER IX.
THE DESPERATION OF HUNGER.
The night was still. Only the soft wash of the tiny waves on the shore came to the ears of the Tramp's skipper as he thus raised his head to take an observation.
First he looked in the direction of the three motor boats, and in particular the one on board of which George was sleeping. Perhaps he had a slight suspicion to the effect that some movement on the part of this chum had caused the scuffling sounds.
His search for an explanation in this quarter proved to be a failure. He could plainly see the tan-colored canvas tent which covered the speed boat; but it seemed to be perfectly motionless.
Just then Jack sniffed the air two or three times. Come, that was surely a most delightful odor that seemed to be wafted in his quarter. Had Nick, for instance, been alongside, and wide-awake, he would have immediately declared that it reminded him of roast duck!
By the way, they did have a full half dozen waders in the process of baking in that crude earthen oven. Jack shot a quick glance over in the direction where he and Nick had built the receptacle.
What could that dark object be? Even as he looked he surely saw it move. Yes, a second and more positive examination convinced him of this fact. Then there was danger of the expected breakfast being carried off while they slept.
Was it some prowling bear that had followed the scent, and dug out the cooked fowls? The bulk of the figure assured him that it could be no ordinary raccoon, or even a cunning fox.
Would he be justified in shooting? At that short distance Jack realized that he could riddle the object sadly; for the charge of shot, having no chance to spread, would go with all the destructive power of a bullet.
His finger was on the trigger, but he wisely refrained. Perhaps after all this night intruder might not prove to be a bear, nor yet any other wild beast. Roast duck may appeal just as strongly to the human family. If any prowler had seen them bury the ducks on the preceding evening, might he not have waited patiently until this hour, just before the dawn, in order to allow the fowls to cook?
Was that a grunt of satisfaction he now caught? It certainly sounded very much along that order. Evidently the transgressor and thief must have finally succeeded in accomplishing his burrowing, judging from that decided aroma that was scattering about the vicinity. Even then he might be trying to gather up the spoils, loth to let a single duck escape his bold foray.
Well, Jack believed he ought to have something to say about that. He had gone to considerable trouble to collect half a dozen ducks; and, besides, it took more or less time to build that same oven and prepare the game for the receptacle. They were not in the feeding line, either. If a poor hungry wayfarer chose to approach them the right way, and appeal for help, he would find that generous hearts beat in the bosoms of these good-natured lads. But a thief who came crawling into camp when they were asleep, and tried to make a clean sweep of their expected breakfast, did not appeal to Jack at all.
"Hello! there, my friend; if you start to run, I'm going to fill you full of shot; so don't you dare try it!" Jack suddenly remarked, in a clear voice.
Up bobbed other heads near by, as these words awoke some of the sleepers.
"Keep still, boys, and don't get in my way," said Jack, calmly. "I've got a thief covered, and expect to bring him down if he so much as takes one jump. Easy now, Herb; keep your gun ready, and don't shoot until I say so."
For all he talked so threateningly, of course Jack would have done no such thing had the fellow bolted. Better lose a thousand ducks than have cause to regret hasty action. But it seemed that his bold words had the effect he wanted; for the shadowy figure continued to hug the ground in the spot where the oven lay.
"Don't yuh shoot me, Mistah!" a quavering voice now broke out; and immediately they understood that the intended spoiler of their breakfast must be a negro. "I ain't 'tendin' tuh run away, 'deed I ain't, sah. I gives mahself up. I ain't eben gut a knife 'long with me!"
"Josh!" said Jack, quietly.
"Yes, I'm on deck, all right; what is it?" replied the tall boy, close by.
"You fixed some stuff for starting a fire in a hurry, didn't you?" continued Jack.
"Sure I did; and it's right here beside me," Josh hastened to reply.
"Then strike a match, and let's have some light. We'll look this coon over, and see whether we want to take him down to Franklin City with us tomorrow, or give him some grub and let him go scot free."
Jack was looked upon as a leader by his chums, and when he received these instructions Josh never hesitated a second about starting to carry them out to the letter.
Scratch went his match, which he always kept handy, being the recognized chef of the expedition. Then the light wood flamed up, communicated with other stuff, and in a "jiffy," as Josh called it, the scene was illuminated.
Meanwhile Jack had climbed out from among the folds of his blanket, always keeping his shotgun leveled in the direction of the crouching figure of the detected marauder of their stores.
He found a badly frightened negro, rather a young fellow, and as black as tar. The whites of his eyes looked staring as he followed the movements of that threatening gun, every time Jack moved.
"Come, get up here, and step nearer the fire," said Jack. "When we have company we always like to entertain them in proper style. Now, sit down here, and give an account of yourself. What's your name, to start with?"
George had come tumbling out of the depths of the Wireless, aroused by the sound of voices, although Jack had not been talking in an excited way. Herb, Jimmy and Josh were all on hand, with blankets wrapped about them; for the night air was a bit keen, and they had on only their underclothing and pajamas.
But Nick could be heard snoring away contentedly in his snug nest, dead to the world and all its cares. Nor did any one think to take the trouble to arouse the fat boy, so that he calmly slept through the entire proceedings.
"I'se Jawge Washington Thomas; an' I libs back dar in de kentry at er place called Pokomoke City, sah," the prowler promptly answered, as though he realized that since he had now fallen into the hands of these young fellows, he might as well make a clean breast of it.
"And what are you doing here on the shore of Chincoteague Bay, creeping into a camp, and raiding our provisions?" pursued the one who held the gun.
"'Deed, an' I done must a been a fool," sighed the prisoner; "an' dat's no lie, tuh try an' git dem ducks like er fox, w'en I orter stepped up, bold like, an' asked yuh foh a bite. But I was dat hungry, boss, I jes' couldn't help it. I seen yuh put dem fowls in de little hole in de groun', an' somethin' tempts me tuh hang 'round till dey orter be done foh suah."
"But you haven't told us why you're here, instead of over in Pokomoke City, where you belong, George?" went on Jack, meaning to have the whole story.
"I'se gwine tuh tell yuh hit all, boss, 'deed I is. Den yuh kin do what yuh want wid me, only foh de love o' misery gib me sumpin tuh eat 'fore yuh takes me down tuh Franklin City, what de sheriff is. I'se ben hidin' out now foh nigh a month. Yuh see I done git in a muss wid a white man, an' we had a scuffle. He done trip an' cut his haid on a stone when he falls down; but dey declar I cut him. 'Taint nothin' serious like, gib yuh mah word on it, boss; an' Hank he ben up an' 'round dis three weeks an' more. But dey got it in foh me ober dere, an' I ain't gwine tuh take de chances ob gittin' kotched."
"And so you've been hiding out for a whole month, have you, George?" Jack asked, now lowering his gun, since he realized there was no longer any necessity for standing guard over the dejected chap, hungry, ragged and forlorn as he seemed to be.
"Dat's jes' what I done has, sah. At fust I 'spected tuh make mah way tuh Baltimore, 'case dar I got a brudder; but I jest cudn't go 'way, yuh see, widout mah wife an' two chillen. So I kept right on hangin' 'round hyah, an' tryin' tuh git word tuh dem. I has a letter from Susie jest yisterday, sayin' as how she'd jine me termorry at de Scooter Landin', whar a boat is loadin' wid lumber foh Baltimore. An' my Susie sez as how she got de money tuh take us all dar."
"That sounds reasonable enough, George. Now tell us why you crawled into camp and tried to lift those roast ducks?" Jack asked, turning to wink at his chums, who in their odd garb were gathered around, listening and grinning.
"Jes' as I was sayin', boss; I seen yuh come in here las' night, an' git ready tuh camp. Wanted tuh ask yuh foh sompin' tuh eat de wust kin', but w'en I done sees de guns yuh kerry, I got cold feet; 'case I kinder s'pected yuh mout be all alookin' foh me. So I hangs 'round till I reckons de fowls dey must be ready tuh eat. Den I slicks in, an' tried tuh grab one. Dat's de whole story, boss, gib yuh mah word it is. An' I hopes yuh belibes me."
"See here, George, when a man gives evidence in court he is expected to prove it, if he can," Jack remarked, seriously. "Now, that's a rather interesting story you tell; but how can we know that it's true? You mentioned receiving a letter from your wife a bit ago; suppose you show it to us. That would go a great ways toward making us believe; and getting you a breakfast in the bargain."
"Good for you, Jack!" exclaimed the skipper of the Wireless.
"A bully idea!" commented Josh; while the other two nodded their heads, as if they fully backed these sentiments.
Jawge Washington Thomas seemed in no wise dismayed by this proposition. They saw a wide grin expand across his sable face as he immediately thrust a hand into the pocket of the ragged jacket he wore over his faded cotton shirt.
"Dat seems tuh be de right thing, sah," he remarked, as he drew something out. "I'se right glad now I done kep' dis little letter. Beckons as how I read de same half a million times dis last twenty-foah hours. Dar she be, sah. Hopes as how yuh kin make out de writin'. My Susie she smart gal, 'fore she marry dis good-foh nothin' nigga; she eben done teach school. Reckon she too good foh me, boss; but if I eber gits up in Baltimore, I'se gwine tuh do the right thing by Susie, gib yuh my word I is, sah."
The boys crowded around, each eager to see what sort of a letter Susie had sent to her man, in his time of trouble. This was what they made out, although the missive had been handled so often by the fugitive that it was well begrimed:
"George—The schooner Terrapin will be at Scooter's Landing day after tomorrow, Thursday. I sold out everything, and will be aboard with the children, bound for Baltimore. We can live here in Pokomoke no longer. Be on the lookout. Your wife Susie."
That was all, but it must have brought a lot of hope to the wretched fugitive, who believed that he would be tarred and feathered, or else lynched, if ever he was caught by those Maryland whites. And his claim that Susie had an education Jack saw was well founded.
"How about it, boys; shall we take George to Franklin City, or give him a good breakfast and let him wait for Susie and the kids?" asked Jack, though he felt positive as to what the answer would be before he spoke.
"He can have half of my duck!" announced Herb.
"And the whole of mine," echoed Josh.
"That settles it," laughed Jack. "So, George Washington Thomas, draw right up to the fire and begin operations. A starving man can be excused for doing lots of things that in a fellow with a full stomach might appear to be a bad go. We'll forgive you this time; and hope that when you get to Baltimore, you'll show Susie how you can work for a woman who stands by her man like she has."
"I'se gwine tuh, boss; I'se got mah mind made up on dat, I tells yuh," declared the fugitive, with an air of determination that Jack liked to see.
And as his hunger was such a real thing, they forced him to begin to eat without further delay. Having dressed themselves, for the dawn was now coming on, they started operations looking toward breakfast, wishing to give the poor fellow a treat in the way of some hot coffee and a rasher of bacon.
Fancy the amazement of Nick, as he sat up and rubbed his eyes, on discovering an unknown negro, seated on a log, with a tin plate on his knees, and devouring one of the ducks that had been placed in the primitive oven the night before.
"W-w-what's all this mean? Who's your friend, and whose duck is he making 'way with, fellows? I hope now you haven't let me sleep on, just to play a trick on me and leave a rack of bones on my dish. Did he drop down out of the sky, or have you engaged a pilot for the treacherous waters of the lower Chincoteague Bay?" was the way he broke out, as he discovered his chums grinning.
When he heard the story, Nick hardly knew whether to be provoked, or take it as a joke, that he had been allowed to sleep through it all.
"But I ain't going to be outdone by any of you," he said, magnanimously; "and if George Washington can get away with another whole duck, let him tackle mine!"
CHAPTER X.
NICK IN SEARCH OF A MERMAID.
"Good boy, Nick!" cried George, who knew what a great sacrifice the fat boy had in mind, when he offered to give up his share to the hungry stranger.
"But there's no need of it," declared Josh. "You know I don't have any appetite in the morning, so he's eating my duck."
"And as for me," piped up Herb, "I'm satisfied with half a bird. Besides, somehow, duck for breakfast seems rather strong. I'm used to something light—a rasher of bacon, flapjacks, or hominy, with coffee. So hold your horses, Nick, and get ready to take your turn."
After the meal had been completed, preparations were made looking toward an early start. They anticipated having a hard day's work, several inlets having to be crossed, with the ocean setting in heavy against them, it might be.
Jack had heard some pretty wild stories concerning the perils that might be expected while crossing these same inlets, where at the full sweep of the tide small boats were in danger of being upset in the mad swirl.
He hardly believed more than half of what he heard, however, knowing how prone the natives are to exaggerate things. Besides, the staunch motor boats were not in the same class as the clumsy craft used by those who navigated these shoal waters along the Virginia coast.
They said good-bye to the fugitive black. Some of them, in the generosity of their boyish hearts, had slipped quarters and half dollars in the ready hand of the fellow; and his eyes danced with happiness as he stood there, waving the skippers and crews of the little flotilla farewell.
"It was a mighty lucky thing for George Washington that he dropped into our camp last night," laughed Herb, as they began to lose sight of the waving hat of the negro.
"Yes, and just as lucky that he made a failure of his job," remarked Jack, for they were moving along close together, so that it was easy to talk back and forth. "If he'd managed to get away with a duck or two, that would have ended it all. As it is, he's holding a nice little bunch of coin, that will help pay for the grub, after he gets to Baltimore with his family."
"I suppose it's a square deal George gave us?" queried Josh.
"Now, what do you mean by that?" demanded Herb.
"He couldn't have been playing a trick on us, could he?" the other went on; for Josh was often inclined to be somewhat suspicious.
"Come off!" scoffed George.
"That's too bad, Josh, for you to suspect him of trying to pull the wool over our eyes," Jack declared, reproachfully.
"Oh! I don't doubt him, so to speak," Josh protested; "but you know I'd hate everlastingly to be done by a coon."
"That letter was genuine enough," observed Jack, thoughtfully; "and fellows, perhaps you didn't notice the thing, but there were blurs on that writing, just as if somebody had been crying, and the tears dropped on the paper. Whether it was poor old George Washington, feeling awful lonely, and hungry, who wept; or his wife while she was writing the note, doesn't matter. But those marks went a big way toward convincing me his story was genuine."
Somehow Josh turned red, and no more was said. Those happy-go-lucky lads could feel for the sentiment that had caused those tears.
"That's Chincoteague Light, ain't it?" asked Herb, after a while, pointing ahead.
"Sure it is!" Jimmy cried. "I saw it winking at me every time I woke up last night, so I did, me bhoy!"
"Then we strike across that inlet soon?" suggested George, showing just the slightest sign of nervousness, Jack thought.
Of the three skippers, George had the most cause for looking serious whenever there arose any chance for trouble, either through a storm, or tidal currents. His speed boat, being so very narrow in beam, and cranky, was least fitted to contend with raging seas; since there must always be great danger of an upset.
"In less than half an hour we'll spin across and get behind Wallop's Island. As the tide is pretty well up, we ought to make the riffle there. I'd hate to get stuck in the mud, and have to wait ten or twelve hours for another tide to float us off," Jack made answer; for, as he had the charts, they always looked to him for information.
"Then what next?" asked Herb, wishing to be posted.
"In an hour or more we ought to reach Assawaman Inlet, and after that will come Gargathy, Matomkin, and then Watchapreague; which last is said to be the most dangerous along the whole coast," replied the commodore of the fleet.
"You don't say!" ejaculated George, pretending to look unconcerned; "and just why is that, please?"
"Well, it happens to be wider than any other, and the currents are fierce. Besides, some of the natives declare there are mermaids, or something after that order, that try to overturn boats crossing."
At that the boys let out a combined yell.
"Me for a pretty mermaid, then!" cried Nick. "I always did want to have a chat with one of those fair damsels of the sea, ever since I read how they used to comb their hair and sing to the mariners in those old days of Greece."
"Makes a fellow think of all the old mythological things," declared George.
"That's right," Herb declared. "You remember about Scylla and Charybdis, the two fabled monsters that used to alarm the old chaps hundreds and hundreds of years ago; but which turned out to be a dangerous rock and a big sucker hole, called a whirlpool? That's what ails this old inlet, I guess. The currents suck hard; and these crackers along the coast think unseen hands are trying to drag them down."
"What I don't like about it," remarked Josh, "is the sharks."
"Oh! I see you have been reading about it, then," said Jack, quickly. "I didn't mean to say anything about those monsters."
"Then there are sharks around?" demanded George; while Nick turned a little pale as he leaned over the side of the speed boat and listened.
"Yes; all accounts agree on that score," Jack admitted. "But if we manage right, and take the inlet at the proper time, there's no reason why any of us should bother our heads about the scaly pirates of the sea."
"I only hope none of 'em butt up against the Wireless, that's all," grunted the skipper of the narrow boat.
"Gracious! do you think there's any chance of that?" asked Nick, looking as though he half felt like begging Herb to take him aboard at the crucial time, only that he hated to show the white feather.
"Oh! hardly," laughed Jack, desirous of cheering the other up.
"Still, it might be wise for Nick to keep under cover while we're making that same passage across," suggested Josh, wickedly.
"And just why me, any more than you?" demanded the fat boy, indignantly.
"Well, the sight of such a bag of bones as me wouldn't be apt to stir those man-eaters up to any extent; but if they caught a glimpse of such a rolypoly morsel as you, Nick, it would set 'em wild."
"Oh! let up, won't you?" grumbled Nick. "This is too serious a subject to make fun over. I don't just hanker to make a dinner for any old shark, and don't you forget it, Josh Purdue."
They crossed the inlet at Chincoteague without the slightest trouble. Beyond lay Wallop's Island, and their speed had to be considerably reduced while navigating the tortuous and narrow channel lying between that body of reedy land and the main shore.
Despite the wideawake work of the pilot in the Tramp, there was always a liability of some boat charging upon an unseen mudbank; and hence it was advisable to take things rather easy, so that in case of such a disaster, it would be possible to pull off again, with the help of the other boats.
Then came the next inlet, which was also crossed easily.
"Say, nothing hard about this," George called out, as they headed once more down the bay toward Gargathy Inlet.
"Lots of things look harder than they turn out to be," answered Herb, who was having it easy enough in his wide-beamed craft.
"Still, be on your guard all the time," cautioned Jack, who meant to keep near the erratic Wireless all the time, because he felt it in his bones that if any accident did happen it would be in that quarter.
At noon they drew up and went ashore on a sandspit, where they ate lunch. Nick of course "browsed" around, as he called it, in search of oysters, and was speedily rewarded by discovering a supply. Indeed, they had hard work making him break away, when Jack tooted his conch shell as the signal for a start.
Matomkin Inlet proved as easy as the others.
"Now for the terror!" remarked George, as later in the afternoon they approached the spot where Watchapreague lay.
Ahead they could see the whitecaps marking the fierce cross currents that have given this half-mile wide inlet its bad name. Many a wreck of shore boats has taken place here, and lives been lost.
"We might as well get over now, as in the morning, for the tide is as good as it will ever be. Those whitecaps are caused by the wind blowing from the shore, and the tide coming in," Jack decided, as they advanced steadily on.
"And in case of any accident, then, a fellow couldn't be carried out to sea," George remarked, with what seemed like a distinct look of relief.
So the start was made. All around them the water fairly boiled, and unseen influences apparently tugged at the frail little craft, as though the fingers of those fabled monsters were gripping their keels.
They were just about the middle and most dangerous spot when George gave a sudden cry. It was echoed by a wail from Nick. Looking up, Jack discovered a sight that thrilled him to the core. The erratic Wireless had chosen to play its skipper a nasty trick at just the time it should have been on its best behavior, coming to a stop with such abruptness that poor Nick lost his hold forward, and went splashing into the water like a giant frog!
CHAPTER XI.
A STUNNING DISCOVERY.
In an instant all was confusion!
All sorts of shouts broke from the boys; and George, leaning over the side of his stalled Wireless, in the vain hope of being able to clutch the boy who was in the dangerous waters of the inlet, came near upsetting his tottering boat completely.
Nick had disappeared as soon as he struck the water, but such a fat fellow could not long remain under the surface, so he speedily made his appearance, struggling terribly, and looking badly frightened.
There had been a time when Nick could not swim a stroke; but, by keeping heroically at it, he had managed to master the art to some extent. Desperation assisted him in this predicament, and the way he threshed the water was a caution. Herb afterwards declared it beat any old stern-wheel towboat he had ever seen, charging up the current of the mighty Mississippi.
Luckily enough, Jack had anticipated something of this sort. That was why he had persisted in keeping as close to the speed boat as he dared, without risking a collision. He later on said he felt it in his bones that if the Wireless had one more kink of evil in her, she was just bound to let it out at the most critical moment. And it had proven just so.
The first thing Jack did when he saw the head and wildly plunging arms of his fat chum appear, was to hurl the life preserver he had snatched up from the spot where he kept it handy.
And so well aimed was the cork buoy that it fell just in front of the struggling Nick, who gave a half-strangled whoop, doubtless under the impression that it was a shark, or perhaps one of those same mermaids he had declared it his ambition to meet face to face.
"Grab hold of it, Nick!" shouted George, excitedly.
"It's a life preserver. Get a grip on it, Nick!" bellowed Jack, as he gradually turned the nose of the Tramp around, meaning to bear down upon the imperiled boy.
Luckily Nick heard what they said, for he was seen to make a wild clutch for the floating buoy, and catch hold of it before the treacherous swirls carried it beyond his reach.
"Oh! look there!" shrieked Jimmy. "That must be the fin of a shark!"
It was.
And further along Jack even caught sight of several more. The fierce creatures had heard the splash, and apparently scenting a fine dinner, were dashing this way and that, bent upon finding the object that had made all the rumpus.
"George, get your gun, and be ready to shoot!" said Jack, himself pale now with sudden anxiety.
So the skipper of the Wireless, understanding that this was a time to keep cool if they would save their cheery comrade, reached down under the side of his boat. When he bobbed up a few seconds later he was clutching his rifle, which he had brought along, in the faint hope that before the long cruise was done he might get a deer, or even a bear, with it.
Now the nose of the Tramp was heading straight for the spot where Nick clung to the life buoy.
"Splash as hard as you can!" shrilled Josh, who seemed to remember that sharks can sometimes be kept away by this means.
And immediately the fat boy exerted himself at a great rate, his legs and one arm beating the water until it sounded like a vast mill in action.
But as Jack cast a swift glance around he saw that the nearest shark was heading straight toward poor Nick. Jimmy had heard what was said to George. He, too, had pulled out a shotgun, and was cowering close by, holding the weapon in his hands, and with a grim look of "do or die" on his freckled face.
Bang! went the rifle in George's hands.
The bullet struck the water above the advancing monster, but seemed to do no particular damage, for they could see that he was still coming directly on.
Now the prow of the Tramp was just alongside Nick; but the shark seemed dreadfully close, too. Dropping his hold on the wheel, Jack bent over to clutch the shoulders of the fat boy. He knew that he would have a tremendous task dragging him aboard, soaked as his clothes were; but desperation causes those who try, to perform wonderful deeds, and Jack felt equal to most anything just then.
He was still dragging Nick upward, and the other was trying to help himself as well as he was able, when the big fish, rushing under, seemed to turn over while opening his terrible mouth, lined with cruel teeth.
And then Jimmy, who had been holding his fire for a good opportunity, sent the contents of the shotgun straight into that distended mouth.
Jack pulled his chum aboard, and almost fell himself, such was the relief that passed over him. The boat was whirling around in the mad currents, but as Jack again took the wheel he quickly mastered its erratic movements.
"Sure, I guv him the cowld meal, that toime, I did!" shouted the delighted Jimmy, threatening to attempt a real jig in his excitement. "How d'ye like cowld lead, me bully bhoy? Next toime take one of your own kind, will ye, and lave our chum be. Look at the bog-trotter kicking out yonder, would ye? Don't I hope some of his kind will ate him up now. It's the biter bitten, fellows. Look! by the powers, if they ain't tacklin' the gossoon, so they are!"
It was even so, for the wildest commotion was taking place out in the quarter where the wounded shark had been struggling.
Even Nick managed to crawl to the side of the boat and gape. A look of satisfaction took the place of the frightened expression on his round face.
"Anyhow, he didn't get me, did he, fellows?" Nick seemed to find a strange pleasure in repeating time and again, in a hysterical way.
The remainder of the inlet was readily passed, George managing to get a rope to the skipper of the Comfort, who towed the tricky speed boat to safety.
Jack did not mean to lose that life preserver, and he had Jimmy get it with the boathook as they passed by. It had served Nick a good turn, and showed the wisdom of one being always prepared for trouble.
Nick was shaking at a great rate. This might come partly from his recent excitement, but Jack knew that the air was rather cool to one who sat in garments saturated with salt water.
"We'd better be on the lookout for a camping ground somewhere on Paramore Island, here," he remarked. "A fire would come in handy for Nick; and, besides, I reckon we've done all we ought to for one day. If tomorrow pans out as lucky, we ought to get in touch with the lighthouse at Cape Charles."
"Well, I only hope," sighed Nick, between shivers, "that the programme will be a bit varied tomorrow. If there has to be somebody go overboard to hunt for mermaids, let me off, won't you, fellows?"
"We'll think it over, Nick," called George, who was taking it easy now, since his engine was dead, and the Comfort drawing him along in its wake.
They presently discovered a place that seemed to promise a certain amount of comfort; and so a landing was made.
"Smells like oysters around here, fellows," was the first remark Nick made, as he scrambled ashore, and started to thresh his arms about, in the endeavor to get up a circulation—Jack had advised this as a preventative against a cold.
"Well, I honestly believe that chap would think of eating if he heard the angel Gabriel tooting his horn," declared Herb. "He'd say that he wanted to be fortified again the journey across that old river Styx."
"Sure, I would!" admitted the grinning fat boy, frankly. "Anyhow, oysters are good stuff, whichever way you take 'em, and that nobody can deny. Get your old fire going, so I can change my clothes, and have an hour to gather a crop. Josh said if I got enough he'd give us scalloped oysters for supper. Yum! yum! don't that just make your mouths water, boys? It does mine."
The fire was soon going, and beside its cheery heat Nick made the change. His soaked garments were hung up to dry the best they could, though it is a hard job when clothes have been in salt water.
Then, with a tin pail Nick set out to gather his beloved shellfish, signs of which had been noted near by.
In half an hour he had deposited three pails of what seemed to be very fair bivalves in a pile near the fire.
"Set some of the others to work opening them, Josh," Nick observed. "My fingers are too sore for the job. Besides, I've done my part, seems like, in getting the crop gathered."
Jack and Jimmy took hold, and with the oyster knives soon began to fill a receptacle with the contents of the shells.
Nick was busying himself whacking a few open on the side, "just to test them," as he said; for they noticed that he made no contributions to the general fund.
"A trifle salty, but just prime," the judge of oysters remarked, several times, as he devoured a fat one. "This is worth coming for, boys. The coast for me every time, when you can get such treats as this. Think I gathered enough? Want any more, Josh?"
"Oh! hould up!" cried Jimmy, whose fingers were getting sore from the various cuts received from the sharp edges. "Sure, we've got enough for a rigiment, so we have. Just ate up the balance yoursilf, and stow your gab, Nick."
A short time later, Jack, who had been rummaging around aboard the Tramp, called out:
"Anybody see my old coat lying around loose?"
At that, Jimmy uttered a startled cry and jumped up.
"Glory be!" he exclaimed. "I forgot all about that, Jack, darlint. It must have been your coat that wint overboard in the inlet, and sank, while I was shootin' the murderous shark. And by the powers, that is too bad, beca'se it had that bally ould paper missage in it ye was to deliver to Van Arsdale Spence at Beaufort!"
The other boys echoed the disconsolate cry of Jimmy, and looked at Jack, as if they felt the greatest pity for him in his unfortunate loss.