Title: The "B. O. W. C.": A Book For Boys
Author: James De Mille
Release date: December 23, 2017 [eBook #56231]
Most recently updated: October 23, 2024
Language: English
Credits: David Widger
| 1. THE “B. O. W. C.” |
| 2. THE BOYS OF GRAND PRÉ SCHOOL. |
| 3. LOST IN THE FOG. |
| 4. FIRE IN THE WOODS. |
| 5. PICKED UP ADRIFT. |
| 6. THE TREASURE OF THE SEAS. |
The “B. O. W. C.,” with their History, Mystery, and Wonderful Doings; and how an aged African became elevated to the Dignity of “Grand Panjandrum.”
Grand Pré and Minas Basin.—An astonishing Procession.—Encampment of Brigands.—Break-up of Encampment and Flight of the Inmates.
Another extraordinary Procession.—An eccentric Crew.—A flighty Shipper.—Wonderful Attachment of Captain, Corbet to his Offspring.—Stealing a Stone Fence, and raising the Black Flag.
Blomidon.—Tides and Fogs.—Songs and Seasickness.—The Five Islands, and a Race up a Précipice.
Exploring a desert Island.—Tumbling over a Cliff.—Peril of Bruce.—A mad Row over the waves.—Adrift in the Fog.
Up Anchor and after them.—Blast of the Foghorn.—A long Search amid Mists, and Darkness, and Storms.
Lost in the Fog.—At the Mercy of the Tide.—The last Rock.—Wanderings on a lonely Shore.—A great Discovery.—A new Mode of Cooking.
Blue Sky.—Building a House.—The Signal Staff.—A fatal Disgust.—Mournful Forebodings.
Exploring.—A wild Walk.—On the Lookout for Prey.—What is it?—Is it a wild Goose?—Tremendous Sensation, the Explorers being as much astounded as Robinson Crusoe was when he discovered the human Footprints in the Sand.
New Attempts at Cookery.—Phil on the Lookout.—A Sail! A Sail!—The Signal of the red Shirt.—The Home of the O’Raffertys.
Pratt’s Cove.—A Dinner Party.—The faithless Cook and Steward.—Songs.—Sudden and startling Interruption.—Stealing a Wood-pile.—Overwhelming Piece of Intelligence.
On the Track again.—Fishing for a Duck.—Asking for Bread, and getting Stones.—Pat shines as Cook.
Adrift.—Skilful Navigators.—Breakers ahead.—A narrow Scratch.—Stuck in the Mud.
In Mud and Water.—A Sea Monster.—A terrific Fight.—Wonderful Pluck of the “B. O. W. C.”—Swallowing a Sculpin.—The Trophy.—Waiting for Deliverance.
Scratching for Clams.—How not to eat them.—Fearful Consequences of Folly.—A formidable Medicine Chest.—Prevention better than Cure.
New Hopes and Plans.—A Sail!—A bitter Disappointment.—A hazardous Adventure, and a Fright.—Quilts for Togas.—Another tremendous Casualty.
On the briny Deep, and on the muddy Shore.—The Fisherman’s Boat.—Reappearance of old Friends.—Remonstrances, Explanations, and Confessions.
Wanderings about the Beach.—Science and Sport.—Back Home.—Frightful Tale of Poison.—A Visit to the Afflicted.
Complaints of a disappointed Savant.—The humble Confession of Pat.—A buried Treasure, and a great Search after it by Torchlight’.
How to waken a Sleeper.—Off Home.—A weary Way.—Baffled like the Flying Dutchman.—Corbet pines for his Bobby.—“The Wind at last! Hurrah!”
Blomidon, insulted, avenges himself.—A Victim devotes himself to appease his Wrath.—Original Views of Captain Corbet with regard to the Archaeology and the Science of Navigation.
Being jolly under creditable Circumstances.—Songs, Medleys, Choruses, Cheers, Laughter, Speeches, Responses.—The Mud again.—Hard and fast.—What’ll you do now, my Boy?
A wild Undertaking.—A Race for Life.—The lost Boot.—The Quicksands.—The Isle of Safety.—The Mud Gulch.—Crossing the Abyss of Mud.—Bruce’s Doldrum.—Two forlorn Figures.—Rapturous Welcome.—Speech by the Grand Panjandrum.
The “B. O. W. C.,” with their History, Mystery, and Wonderful Doings;
and how an aged African became elevated to the Dignity of “Grand
Panjandrum.”
AFTER the long winter session, the
approach of the spring vacation had been eagerly welcomed at the Grand Pré
School. It was only a short recess, and the majority of the boys would not
be able to go home; but such as it was, its advent created the greatest
delight. On a pleasant evening in May the examinations were over; little
knots of boys were gathered jubilantly in various places, bonfires were
blazing, squibs fizzing, crackers snapping, and everything and everybody
were as noisy and as jolly as possible.
In the midst of all this, and immediately after tea, the “B. O W. C.” had called a meeting in the Rawdons’ rooms. Who or what the “B. O. W. C.” is, or was, will be explained on a future occasion; let it suffice for the present that the “B. O. W. C.” called a meeting, and the Rawdons’ rooms had the honor, of receiving that august assemblage. Not that it was very numerous. Only four or five could be counted; but then what they lacked a number, they made up in quality and in style. The utmost had been done to bring the rooms up to the level of so great an occasion. The table had been turned upside down, and transformed into a dais; the book-case had been, covered over with the table-cloth; the couch had been placed on one end in the corner; and in the middle of the room was a flour barrel covered with red flannel, on which was placed a phrenological bust. Added to this, the room was darkened—a smoky lamp shedding a feeble and fitful ray over the scene, and dimly disclosing four figures at one end.
These four figures were all dressed in white. The costume was a simple, but a highly effective one. It consisted apparently of a sheet thrown over the head and falling to the feet, with two holes for the eyes. In this attire the four figures bore not a little resemblance to some of those orders of monks which exist in Europe. The table, which lay on the floor, legs upward, with the addition of the ottoman, served as a dais, on which stood a figure with an immense militia captain’s sword in his hand. On each side was also a figure holding a huge wooden battle-axe, while the fourth stood between the dais and the bust.
Soon the silence was disturbed by a knock at the door communicating with the bed-room. The boy near the bust gave it three smart raps, upon which the door opened, and a figure entered clothed like the others in the room. On entering he made a low bow, and then stood erect.
The four figures in the room raised their hands to their faces with a peculiar gesture.
“Blood!” said they in solemn tones.
“Thunder!” said the boy at the door, making the same gesture.
“Is the Grand Panjandrum with you, Venerable Warden?” said the figure on the dais.
“He is, Most Venerable Patriarch.”
“Let him enter.”
At this the Venerable Warden left the room, and in a few moments reappeared, ushering in the personage alluded to as the Grand Panjandrum.
The Grand Panjandrum was an aged gentleman of color, whose wrinkled face was enlivened by an irrepressible comicality of expression, which not even the solemnity of this occasion could quell. He was arrayed in a college cap and gown, with a Master’s red hood and long bands. His face was a study. He was evidently doing his best to exhibit the deepest solemnity of expression, but his droll, keen, twinkling eyes darted furtively about, with an intense relish of the scene before him, and his efforts at gravity were sadly disturbed by the broad grin which, from time to time, would flash out irrepressibly over the dark background of his face. After a few furtive glances he bowed; and then, with an audible chuckle, he awaited further proceedings.
“Grand Panjandrum,” said the figure on the dais, in an impressive voice.
“Yes, sah.”
“Yes, what?” said the other, in a tone of rebuke.
“Yes, sah,—yes, mos’wossifle,” he added, correcting himself. A grin broke out over his face, which, however, was instantly checked by a demure cough.
“Grand Panjandrum, you have heard our map-dates.”
“Mandates?” said the other, in a puzzled tone.
“Yes,—orders.”
“Yes, sah, mos’ wossifle.”
“Have you carried out the instructions of the Venerable Brethren?”
“Yes, sah, mos’ wospeful.”
“Did you get the turkeys?”
“Yes, sah.”
“How many? Six?”
“No, sah.”
“What! not six?”
“No, sah.”
“How many, then?”
“Ten,” said the other, with a chuckle and a grin of triumph.
“O-h!” said the first speaker; while a titter ran round among the others. “H’m! Very well, and what else?”
“Spring chickens.”
“How many?”
“Twenty.”
“Ah! Very well. And how?”
“Broiled, sah.”
“Any tongue?”
“Yes, sah, three.”
“And the ham?”
“Yes, sah.”
“Nuts?”
“Yes, sah.”
“Raisins?”
“Yes, sah.”
“Crackers? Cheese? Figs? Cake?” “Yes, sah, mos’ wossifle.”
“And what about the drink? Have you prepared the lemonade?”
“No, sah.”
“No! Why not?”
“No lemons, sah.”
“That’s bad. And there is no drink, then?”
“Yes. sah. Ginger beer.”
“Ginger beer. H’m! that will do,” said the Venerable Patriarch, solemnly. “How much have you?”
“Ten gallons, mos’ wossifle.”
“What else have you?”
“Ten mince pies, twelve apple pies, a basket of tarts, a tin dipper, an iron pot, an iron spoon,” said the Grand Panjandrum, rapidly enumerating the various items. “Fact,” he continued, carried away by the ardor of the moment, “I’se got most nigh eberyting. Gracious sakes! you’ll open your blessed eyes, mind I tell you! But what are you gwine to do about de bread and butter? Tell you what, boys! you’ve clean forgot de most ’portant of all.”
“Silence!” cried the Venerable Patriarch, in an indignant voice, rapping his sword against the leg of the table.
“The sakes now! how you do go on!” said the Grand Panjandrum, with a broad grin.
“No levity,” said the Venerable Patriarch, in a stern voice.
“Yes, sah,” said the other, assuming an expression of awful solemnity.
“Venerable Warden!”
“Yes, Most Venerable Patriarch.”
“The audience, is over! Escort the Grand Panjandrum to the outer world.”
The Venerable Warden bowed, and led the way out, followed by his sable companion.
Scarcely had the door closed behind them than the scene underwent a sudden change. With a shout, the four figures flung off their white draperies, and kicked them into a corner of the room. Then they drew back the curtains, replaced the table and couch, while the light that now came into the room showed the laughing faces of four boys, which had nothing in common with the sepulchral figures that had taken part in the late scene.
Two of these boys were big, brawny, broad-shouldered fellows, with Roman features, and dark, curling hair. They very closely resembled one another. These were the two Rawdons, to whom the rooms belonged. The elder was named Bruce, and the younger Arthur. Of the others, one was tall and slight, Tom Crawford by name; and the other was small and slight, and was called Phil Kennedy.
“Hurrah, boys!” said Phil. “Isn’t old Solomon a perfect brick of an old darkey? Do you fairly realize the fact that we are to have ten turkeys,—ten, my boys, instead of six?”
“And the spring chickens!” said Tom Crawford.
“And the mince pies!” said Bruce.
“And the ginger beer!” cried Arthur.
“The encampment, of the ‘B. O. W. C.’ is going to be a grand success,” said Bruce. “It will be memorable forever in the history of the school.”
“We ought to have a grand bonfire, and burn our Latin Grammars, before starting,” said Tom Crawford.
“Yes,” said Phil Kennedy, “and our Arithmetics too. I’d like to burn all the Arithmetics in the world.”
“No, no,” said Arthur, “don’t let us have a bonfire. Let us have a burial, with a solemn procession, and a real burial service.”
“Well, what’ll we bury?”
“The Latin Grammar.”
“No, Cæsar.”
“No, the Arithmetic.”
“Let’s bury them all; that is the best plan,” said Phil.
“Yes,” cried all; and a confused medley of proposals arose, in which all were talking together. In the midst of the uproar the door opened, and the Venerable Warden made his appearance. Throwing off his white robe, he disclosed the fair, round face of a fresh, handsome boy, with merry, mischievous eyes, and curling golden hair. That busy brain of his had been prolific in all sorts of plans dear to boys, while his generous nature and frank, pleasant manner made Bart Darner the favorite of Grand Pré School.
“O, Bart,” said Tom Crawford, “what about that powder?”
Bart left the room for a moment, and returned with a package under his arm.
“The powder?” said he. “It’s all right. I’ve got it in my room.”
“And the rods?”
“Yes, I’ve got the rods too.”
“Any matches?”
“Matches? Of course not.”
“Why, what’ll we do for lights and fires?”
“I hope you don’t mean to say that you would dream of taking matches,” said Bart, in a voice of solemn rebuke.
“Why not?”
“Why not? Who ever heard of matches in an Encampment of Knights? No, boys, flint and steel is the thing for us. That’s what I’ve got; and I’ve made some first-rate tinder, and a lot of sulphur lights. Besides, I’ve got something to surprise you.”
“What’s that?”
“The dresses.”
“Dresses?”
“Yes; come to my room, and I’ll show you what I’ve got. It wouldn’t do for us to go out and be brigands in ordinary jackets and trousers, I hope. Why,” he concluded, in a tone of rebuke, “it would be infamous.”
“And have you got any dresses in your room?” said Bruce.’
“Yes; come along and take a look at them.”
Off went the five with a shout, and going up a flight of stairs, they soon entered Bart Darner’s room. Here Bart brought out a bundle from the bed-room, and opening it, he proudly displayed its contents. There were five red shirts, each of which had a huge white cross on the back; five belts; and five felt hats, each of which was decorated with a feather. As he displayed these articles one by one, the boys were struck dumb with admiration, while Bart’s eyes glowed with delight.
“Don’t say anything,” said he, “but try them on.”
Bart locked the door carefully, and then they all arrayed themselves in the new costume. Soon five figures stood there with their red shirts and plunged hats, looking like so many juvenile Garibaldians.
“You see, these belts will do first rate for pistols, and daggers, and that sort of thing,” said Bart.
The other boys said nothing. Astonishment and delight deprived them of words; but each stood looking, first at himself, and then at his companions, in mute admiration.
“But how in the world did you manage it, Bart? Where did you get them all?” asked Tom Crawford.
“O, I found the shirts down in Brown’s,” said Bart, “and picked out the smallest ones. I had them altered, and got Maggie Lunt to sew on the crosses. I begged some old ostrich feathers from. Mrs. Porter, and of course the hats could be got anywhere. They’re rather large, but we can put bits of paper inside the lining, you know, and make them fit well enough. They’ll do for the woods.”
“Do for the woods!” cried Bruce Rawdon. “I should think they would, and for other places, too. Boys, don’t let’s hide our light under a bushel. I move that we have a grand procession at once.”
“Yes, yes,” cried all. “Let’s go down now. The fellows are all out on the grounds.”
“How they’ll stare!” cried Phil. “The ‘B. O. W. C.’ will become more famous than ever,” said Tom Crawford.
“Come, then,” said Arthur, “let us go down now.”
“No,” said Bart. “That would spoil all.”
“Why, don’t you want the ‘B. O. W. C.’ to show themselves?”
“Of course, but not now. I’ll tell you what to do. Let’s wait till to-morrow, and then we’ll get Jiggins’s cart, and make Solomon drive, dressed as Venerable Warden, up to the woods. We’ll follow as brigands.”
“Hurrah! That’s splendid!” said Bruce Rawdon.
“And I’ll show you something else,” said Bart, taking up the parcel which he had under his arm in the Rawdons’ room. “I’ve got something else.” And he proceeded to open the parcel, while the others looked on with eager expectation. He opened it, and drew out a folded cloth. Unfolding this, he shook it out, and spread it on the table. It was a black flag., Upon this was stitched something round, which close examination showed to be a desperate effort to represent a skull. To the ordinary observer, however, it looked exactly like an elderly gentleman’s face, quite bald, and with a benevolent grin. Beneath it were the mysterious initials “B. O. W. C.” At sight of this, the long-repressed feelings of the boys burst forth without restraint. With wild shouts they waved their hats in the air, and at last gave three cheers for Bart. It was long before their wild excitement could be quelled. Until late that night they sat in their wonderful dresses, admiring their wonderful flag, and waiting, with eager impatience, for the next day.
But who or what was the “B. O. W. C.”? That I must now proceed to answer.
The “B. O. W. C.” arose from the genius of Bart Darner, who, in some respects, was the most remarkable boy at Grand Pré School. His career there had been a highly eventful one. His father was a merchant of the town of St. John, and Bart had gathered, from the atmosphere of his native place, a passionate desire to go to sea. With the idea of curing him of this fancy, his father had taken him to Grand Pré School. Bart had gone very good naturedly, and had been formally entered as a scholar. The first acquaintances which Bart made were the Rawdon boys; and on the very first evening after his arrival he confided to them his determination to quit the school immediately. This determination Bart was not very long in putting into execution. Two days after his father had left, Bart was among the missing. Inquiries were made everywhere, but in vain. At length the worthy head master, Dr. Porter, conjectured that he might have gone home; so he sent in the direction in which he supposed it most likely that the fugitive would go. The conjecture proved to be well founded. Bart was found, on the following day, at an inn about forty miles away. He made no objection to returning, confessed that he was on his way home, and made light of the whole affair. Dr. Porter extorted from him a promise that he would make no further attempts to go home, and Bart began his school life.
His restless disposition soon caused a new interruption. At the end of three weeks it was found that Bart was again missing. Dr. Porter was deeply hurt, for he feared that Bart had broken his word. Search was made everywhere, but in vain. A week passed away, but no discovery had been made. At the end of that time, Old Solomon, the cook of the boarding school, affected perhaps by Dr. Porter’s deep anxiety, came to him and disclosed the hiding-place of the fugitive. It appeared that Bart had struck up an eternal friendship with Solomon, and had gained his assistance in a new scheme of flight. This time he did not seek to go home, for he had promised Dr. Porter not to do so. His plan was to escape to the woods, and build a hut, while Solomon was to bring him provision and news from the outer world. The Rawdons had been taken into the secret, and Bart had been enjoying the life of a hermit, and thoughtlessly amusing himself with baffling the search that was going on for him. Dr. Porter at once made Solomon accompany him to the hiding-place; and finding Bart there, he sent Solomon back, and had a long conversation with the youthful hermit. What he said or did no one else knew; but his mode of treatment was so effectual, that Bart from that time forward gave up his wandering ways. A long composition was allotted him as a punishment, and Bart bore the penalty of his misdeeds like a man.
After this he diverted his active powers into a more legitimate channel, and rapidly became one of the best scholars in his class. His restlessness of temper and liveliness of disposition showed themselves in the invention of new games and sports for the amusement of his companions. He became a curious compound of intense earnestness and wild levity. In school no one was so utterly absorbed in study as he; and outside, on the play-ground, no one abandoned himself so completely to fun and merriment. He took prizes and threw balls with equal facility. He invented new modes of making balls, of shaping bats, and of fastening skates. He introduced new variations in the venerable game of marbles. He made beautiful little schooners. He even constructed a steamboat out of an old clock. He organized a military company, including all the boys in the school, with lath guns and wooden swords, and a band which played jew’s-harps and tin pails.
But the greatest of all his achievements was the organization of the “B. O. W. C.”
It arose-on this wise.
From the very outset he had formed a close connection with four other boys, and the attachment to one another grew stronger among them every day. After organizing his militia company, and adding to it its famous “Tin Band,” Bart looked around him for more worlds to conquer; in other words, for new ideas to put into practice. In a moment of inspiration he conceived the plan of a secret society, which was to include himself and his friends. No sooner was this suggested to the others, than they seized upon it with the greatest eagerness. The name was the first thing. At first they thought of calling it the “Pentagon.” Then they thought of the “Quintette.” Other names suggested themselves; but finally they decided upon the “B. O. W. C.” The use of letters gave a charming mystery. No one but a member of the society could ever penetrate the tremendous secret. But the time has at length come for divulging it. It shall be a secret no longer. Those mysterious letters, then, were intended to represent “The Brethren of the Order of the White Cross.”
As to the rest, the most charming ingenuity was shown in arranging the details. The officers had names of solemn import. They were,—
1. The Most Venerable Patriarch.
2. The Venerable Scribe.
3. The Right Worshipful Commander.
4. The Grand Scholastic.
5. The Venerable Warden.
Afterward another dignity was added.
It was arranged that each office should be held only for one month. This was calculated to satisfy the aspirations of all, since in this way each member had a chance of filling every office in due time.
The initiation ceremonies were tremendous; the only trouble about these being that they never had any persons on whom to exercise them. They remained, therefore, like so many beautiful dreams. The costumes have already been described. The most important thing among their furniture was the phrenological bust. This was the pride and delight of the “B. O. W. C.” It had been obtained from a young man who was studying medicine in the village, and who levied a heavy tax upon the purses of the society for so precious an article. They had the bust, however, and did not complain.
I have said that another dignity was added to the original five. This was in the person of the venerable Solomon. In consideration of his age, his color, his occupation as cook, and his eminent previous services to all of them individually, it was unanimously resolved that he should be admitted to the society. With very great delicacy they excused him the terrific initiation ceremony. Perhaps the idea that he might object to some of the details influenced them in this. Be this as it may, Old Solomon became a member, and a new dignity was created especially for him. In a full meeting of the society, it was unanimously voted that he be created Perpetual Grand Panjandrum.
Grand Pré and Minas Basin.—An astonishing Procession.—Encampment
of Brigands.—Break-up of Encampment and Flight of the Inmates.
THE Grand Pré Academy, under the
presiding care of Dr. Porter, was a highly popular and very efficient
boarding school. In choosing such a place for the Academy, Dr. Porter had
shown that ardent love of nature which always distinguished him. It was
situated in a place which yields to no other in the world for varied
charms of land, sea, and sky, and which can never be forgotten after it
has once been seen. Standing upon the slope of a hill, the Academy, with
its broad portico and lofty cupola, looked down upon a scene whose
loveliness has been described in Longfellow’s exquisite verse:
"In the Acadian land, on the shores of the Basin of
Minas,
Distant secluded still, the little
village of Grand Pré
Lay in the fruitful
valley. Vast meadows stretched to the
eastward,
Giving the village its name, and pasture to
flocks without
number.
Dikes that the hands of the farmers had reared with labor
incessant,
Shut
out the turbulent tides; but at stated seasons the flood
gates
Opened, and welcomed
the sea to wander at will o’er the
meadows.
"West and south there were fields of flax, and
orchards and
cornfields.
Spreading afar and unseened o’er the plain; and away to
the
northward.
Blomidon
rose, and the forests old; and aloft on the moun
tains
Sea-fogs pitched their
tents, and mists from the mighty
Atlantic
Looked on the happy valley, but ne’er from
their station de
scended.”
Looking from the portico of the Academy, the eye rested upon a broad expanse of dike land immediately in front, which extended far away for many miles on either hand. These the old Acadian farmers had first reclaimed from the sea, and afterward their successors had reared new dikes and reclaimed wider districts. The broad meadows immediately in front were bounded by the Cornwallis River, a stream which at high tide can float the largest ship, but which at low tide is so nearly empty that but a slight rivulet runs through its channel. It runs into the Basin of Minas, where are the highest tides in the world.. Here the sea carries in its salt waves up to where the dikes rise against them, and afterward retreating, they go back for miles, leaving vast tracts of mud flats exposed to the view. For many miles all around there are rivers that run into this bay, all of which are subject to the same tides, and experience the same great vicissitudes, changing twice in the twenty-four hours from shallow rivulets at the bottom of valleys of mud, to vast rivers which flow with swift and full streams. Twice on each day the stream, which can scarce float a canoe, will grow to a mighty volume of water, where navies might pass. Twice each day may be seen the startling spectacle, once used as a formula for the impossible, of rivers running from the sea up their channels; and twice on each day the scene on Minas shores changes from a wide expanse of red mud to a vast sheet of deep-blue sea.
All that is wonderful and all that is sublime in nature may be found here, side by side with all that is most sweet and beautiful. Behind the hill on whose slope the school stands lies the valley of the Gaspereaux, an Eden-like retreat, shut in by high hills and watered by a winding river, sequestered from the world, full of that strange charm of repose that may so seldom be met with in this busy age. Before the hill there spreads away for many a mile the broad vale of Cornwallis, through which there flow five rivers, whoso waters are all chained up at their mouths, so that their beds may serve for verdurous dike lands to the farmers of the valley. Far away on the other side extends a long range of hills, which push themselves forward into Minas Basin till they end in a precipitous cliff, whose towering form is the centre of attraction for many and many a mile. This is the famous Cape Blomidon, whose position is so peculiar, and whose shape is so striking, that it forms the central object to spectators all around the shores of the bay. Here is a channel opening into the Bay of Fundy outside, and this channel is the gate-way through which the disturbed and impetuous waters of the two seas forever rush backward and forward.
In that outer bay there are fierce tides, and swift currents, and iron-bound shores, and lonely rocky isles; there are dense fogs, sharp squalls, and sudden storms. The mists that prevail there are kept away by that lofty wall which terminates in Blomidon, and cannot penetrate into the well-protected country within. The mists and the fogs seem like baffled enemies, long beleaguering, but never victorious. From the sunny plains of Cornwallis and Grand Pré they may be seen crowded and piled up on the top of Blomidon, frowning darkly and menacingly upon the scene beneath, as though eager to descend. But Old Blomidon guards well the land which he protects, and the mist and the fog that cross his crest are broken and dissipated into thin air.
From all this there arise wondrous atmospheric effects. Here, when the fog is piled up in gloomy masses over Blomidon, and the sun is setting behind them, may be seen a spectacle so gorgeous that, if it could be portrayed on canvas, few would believe it to be a copy of nature. It would be deemed the fantastic vision of some artist mad from love of deep gloom and vivid color; for the colors here at sunset are sometimes as numerous, as varied, and as vivid as those of a rainbow. The whole west glows with indescribable glory, when out of black clouds and voluminous folds of whirling fog-wreaths there beams a gorgeous red, forth from which shoot up innumerable rays far into the zenith, formed of every hue and shade, which shift and change like the rays of the Aurora Borealis, and cast upon all the sky and upon all the earth something of their own splendid radiance.
Early on the morning which followed the meeting of the “B. O. W. C.,” a singular scene was presented in front of the Academy. A crowd had gathered there surrounding a very remarkable group. There was a cart containing a number of baskets and some pots, in which was harnessed a quadruped which charity might consent to name a horse, but which looked more like a skeleton of one of the extinct species. Seated high and dry in an old arm-chair was the venerable figure of Solomon in his robes of office, that is to say, his office of Perpetual Grand Panjandrum. He had an old college cap and gown, and a master’s hood, while the spectacles that bestrided his nose, and the altitude of his shirt collar, were of themselves sufficient to strike awe into the beholder. Behind the cart were the “B. O. W. C.,” robed in the red shirts and plumed hats which Bart had found for them. Bart had a pistol in his belt. Each one had something, if it were nothing better than a case-knife. But the centre of all eyes was the flag. This Bart had generously handed over to Bruce Rawdon, who was the Most Venerable Patriarch for the month of May. As the wind caught it and unfolded it before the astonished eyes of the other boys, the skeleton head grinned benignantly at them from his airy home, and a loud shout of admiration burst forth from all.
Solomon cracked his whip. The procession started. The noise, the laughter, and the joking were wonderful. Heads appeared at all the windows of the house where the teachers lived. There were the laughing faces of Dr. Porter and his family; there was the wondering gaze of Mr. Simmons, the mathematical teacher; and there, at another window, the long, solemn physiognomy of Mr. Long, of the English department. Thus the procession went on, followed by all the boys, and the centre of admiring interest. It was a proud moment for the “B. O. W. C.”
In this fashion they went up the hill behind the Academy, and at length reached the woods. They passed several cavities in the ground which had once been cellars of the old Acadian houses. They passed through an orchard where the old, neglected apple trees still spoke of the Acadian farmer who had planted them and cleared the forest around.
The road entered the woods, and they went along for some distance. At last, in the midst of the woods they turned aside to the left, and after a hundred yards or so they stopped, and the cart was unloaded.
At this place there was a steep descent on the right through the thick woods. Down this the “B. O. W. C.” carried the articles which they had brought. On reaching the bottom, they emerged into a space clear of trees, where a brook ran babbling on. About twenty yards up, a dam had been built, and a pond of water formed, at one end of which was a large camp made of spruce and fir. Shut in among the woods, with the little pond in front of it, and the brook babbling behind it, it formed as secluded a place as could be desired. This spot was once the hiding-place of Bart during his second flight, and had ever since been a favorite resort of his. There were many camps and pleasant arbors through the woods, but the newly-made pond had given to this place the undoubted preeminence. It had all been done very secretly within a week, and all the other boys now saw it for the first time, and gave utterance to their feelings in low murmurs of surprise and admiration. But the “B. O. W. C.” had much to attend to. First of all, they had to carry down their provisions. Then they had to arrange them, and finally they had the most important duty of all to attend to, which was no less momentous a thing than hoisting their flag. Soon the moment came. A pole had been already prepared. The ropes were attached, the pole was nailed to a corner post of the camp, and the flag was hauled up to its place with loud cheers, in which all the other boys joined with the greatest vigor.
After this the “B. O. W. C.” flung themselves down and rested for a time. The other boys inspected the place closely, and questioned the owners of the camp as to their intention.
“Are you going to sleep here?”
“O, yes.”
“What’ll you sleep on?”
“Brush, of course.”
“And will you cook?”
“O, yes.”
“Have you a fireplace?”
“No, but we’re going to make one to-day.”
“What’ll you do if it rains?”
“Grin and bear it.”
“Pooh! You don’t mean to say that you’d stay here if you got wet through.”
“Wouldn’t we, though? You see.”
“Dr. Porter wouldn’t let you.”
“O, yes, he would. He always says it don’t hurt boys to get wet.”
“O, he means by day. He wouldn’t let you sleep here in a storm.”
“Why not? The camp is good enough.”
“Good enough? It can’t keep the rain off.”
“O, yes, it can.”
“You haven’t enough to eat here—have you?” asked others.
“Plenty.”
“Nonsense! It will all be gone before two days.”
“Well, can’t we easily get things? I’ve got a pistol, and mean to shoot hares and things.”
Bart proudly displayed his pistol, and the sight of this formidable arm silenced all controversy.
“Besides,” said Bart, proudly, “we’ve got a gun.”
“A gun!” repeated the others, in low tones. “Yes; we expect to be attacked.”
“Attacked? Who’d attack you?”
“O, the Gaspereaugians.”
(“The Gaspereaugians” was a name given by the boys to the inhabitants of Gaspereaux.)
“Do you think they will?”
“Of course; but if they try it, they’ll find us ready for them,” said Bart, fiercely. “We’ve hoisted our flag, and I’d like to see the Gaspereaugian that would dare to pull it down.”
“Well, if it comes to that, you’ve got us, you know. We’ll be on hand.”
“Of course,” said Bart, gravely. “I’ll tell you what we’re going to do: we’ll send out scouts, and if we see any signs of an attack, we’ll let you know. I’ve got a trumpet here, and when I blow three times, you’ll be along to help. See.”
And Bart stepped back to a bundle, out of which he pulled a long tin horn, of the kind known among ‘longshoremen as “fog-horns.”
“But we won’t blow it till we’re hard up, you know,” he continued. “We’ll only blow it if they come in a great crowd, you know.”
“O, yes; of course.”
The boys now broke up into little knots, and proposed all sorts of plans. A mania for camping out set in strong among them all. The example of the “B. O. W. C.” in damming the stream was to be imitated at once. Each little knot of boys had places peculiar to themselves along the same stream, some of which were the work of predecessors, and had something like a history. After a time most of the boys went back for spades, pickaxes, shovels, axes, and whatever else might be needed for the great work of camp-building. The “B. O. W. C.” then turned their attention toward the completion, of their own camp. A fireplace had still to be built, and brush cut for beds. To this they devoted themselves very vigorously, and worked till about ten o’clock, when their labors were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Dr. Porter and Mr. Simmons. They stood for some time looking with a smile at the busy scene, before they were noticed. As soon as the boys recognized their visitors, they came up laughing, eager to describe the beauties of their camp. Dr. Porter was much amused, particularly with the flag, which floated from the mast.
“Boys,” said he at length, after he had asked about everything, “I have come up to make you an offer.”
“An offer? What is it, sir?” cried they all.
“How would you like to give up, for the present, your bandit camp, take away all your provision, haul down your flag, and go away?”
“What, sir!” cried the boys in consternation, and a cloud of gloom passed over their-faces.
“How would you like me to charter a little schooner, fill it with provisions, turn the hold into a sleeping-place, and start off for a week’s cruise around the Basin of Minas, going ashore at the Five Islands, at Parrsboro’, at Blomidon, and at any other, place where we might wish? What do you say to that? Ah, ha!” cried the doctor, as he watched the changing faces of the boys, where the gloom had vanished instantly, and given place to the wildest delight. “Ah, ha! that suits you—does it! Well, that’s what I’ve come to propose.”
“O, Dr. Porter! Are you really in earnest? Do you mean it?—a schooner—a schooner?—a cruise round Minas Basin? O, good! good! good! Hurrah! Three cheers!”
A hundred incoherent shouts and words like these burst from the boys as they dashed about in wild and frantic delight, overwhelmed with joy at this proposal to all of them. It seemed a thing so glorious that nothing of which the mind could conceive was to be compared with it. A cruise round Minas Basin! What did not that involve? Adventures of a hundred kinds; drifting about in wild tides; getting lost in dense fogs; running ashore on wide mud flats, or on precipitous cliffs, or on the edge of perilous breakers; landing on lonely headlands, or on solitary islands; penetrating far forests; camping out in wildernesses; living pirate fashion in their own schooner, where all would be given up to them; shooting, fishing; hunting for gulls’ nests;—it meant not sham adventures, but real ones—with real dangers environing them instead of fancied ones. They could cease playing at Robbers, and play what to them seemed the nobler part of Pirates; the skull-and-cross-bones flag could adorn the schooner, and the fog-trumpet could sound forth amid the echoing cliffs of Blomidon. It meant anything and everything, and far more than even their vivid fancies could very well portray. To most boys the sea always promises more adventure than the land; there is always something of the joy of discovery in every new voyage, and so all these boys felt now; but to Bart, most of all, was the prospect most delightful; for he had already known to the full that longing for the sea which many boys have, and that which his father had prevented him from realizing, now seemed to come to him. In some respects this seemed to be better than the voyage which he had formerly dreamed of; for though it would not be long, yet it would be varied and eventful, and not free from danger. Best of all, it would be made in company with the other boys.
It was some time before the boys were able, in their excitement, to get any clear idea of what Dr. Porter was telling them. At length they learned that Mr. Simmons and Mr. Long wished to visit Blomidon and the Five Islands in search after minerals, with which the cliffs are filled. They had concluded to get a schooner, and take the larger boys with them. They expected to spend about a week, and take provisions sufficient for that time. Dr. Porter would not be able to go himself, but would intrust the boys to the care and the jurisdiction of Messrs. Simmons and Long. Such was the plan.
Moreover, the schooner was already engaged. It was the Antelope, Captain Corbet; and it was proposed to leave, if possible, that very afternoon, so as to be on the other side of the bay, or at least near Blomidon, by sundown. As it was then ten o’clock, there was no time to lose, but everything should be prepared at once, and taken on board the schooner. One thing only was insisted on by Dr. Porter; and that was, that they should take no firearms. Bart pleaded so hard for his little pistol, however, that the doctor let him keep it, and satisfied himself by making them leave the gun behind.