Books: Lost in the Fog
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James De Mille >> Lost in the Fog
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"I suppose we'll lose this tide," said Phil.
"Yes, I'm afeard so," said the captain, looking around over the
water. "This here wind ain't much, any way; you never can reckon
on winds in this bay. I don't care much about them. I'd a most
just as soon go about the bay without sails as with them. What I
brag on is the tides, an a jodgmatical use of the anchor."
"You're not in earnest?"
"Course I am."
"Could you get to St. John from Grand Pre without sails?"
"Course I could."
"I don't see how you could manage to do it."
"Do it? Easy enough," said the captain. "You see I'd leave with
the ebb tide, and get out into the bay. Then I'd anchor an wait
till the next ebb, an so on. Bless your hearts, I've often done
it."
"But you couldn't get across the bay by drifting."
"Course I could. I'd work my way by short drifts over as far as
this, an then I'd gradually move along till I kine o' canted over
to the New Brunswick shore. It takes time to do it, course it
does; but what I mean to say is this--it CAN be done."
"Well, I wouldn't like to be on board while you were trying to do
it."
"Mebbe not. I ain't invitin you to do it, either. All I was sayin
is, it CAN be done. Sails air very good in their way, course they
air, an who's objectin to 'em? I'm only sayin that in this here
bay thar's things that's more important than sails, by a long
chalk--such as tides, an anchors in particular. Give me them thar,
an I don't care a hooter what wind thar is."
Lying thus at anchor, under the hot sun, was soon found to be
rather dull, and the boys sought in vain for some way of passing
the time. Different amusements were invented for the occasion.
The first amusement consisted in paper boats, with which they ran
races, and the drift of these frail vessels over the water afforded
some excitement. Then they made wooden boats with huge paper
sails. In this last Bart showed a superiority to the others; for,
by means of a piece of iron hoop, which he inserted as a keel, he
produced a boat which was able to carry an immense press of sail,
and in the faint and scarce perceptible breeze, easily distanced
the others. This accomplishment Bart owed to his training in a
seaport town.
At length one of them proposed that they should try to catch fish.
Captain Corbet, in answer to their eager inquiries, informed them
that there were fish everywhere about the bay; on learning which
they became eager to try their skill. Some herring were on board,
forming part of the stores, and these were taken for bait. Among
the miscellaneous contents of the cabin a few hooks were found,
which were somewhat rusty, it is true, yet still good enough for
the purpose before them. Lines, of course, were easily procured,
and soon a half dozen baited hooks were down in the water, while a
half dozen boys, eager with suspense, watched the surface of the
water.
For a half hour they held their lines suspended without any result;
but at the end of that time, a cry from Phil roused them, and on
looking round they saw him clinging with all his might to his line,
which was tugged at tightly by something in the water. Bruce ran
to help him, and soon their united efforts succeeded in landing on
the deck of the vessel a codfish of very respectable size. The
sight of this was greeted with cheers by the others, and served to
stimulate them to their work.
After this others were caught, and before half an hour more some
twenty codfish, of various sizes, lay about the deck, as trophies
of their piscatory skill. They were now more excited than ever,
and all had their hooks in the water, and were waiting eagerly for
a bite, when an exclamation from Captain Corbet roused them.
On turning their heads, and looking in the direction where he was
pointing, they saw a steamboat approaching them. It was coming
from the head of the bay on the New Brunswick side, and had
hitherto been concealed by the projecting cape.
"What's that?" said Bart. "Is it the St. John steamer?"
"No, SIR," said the captain. She's a man-o'-war steamer--the
revenoo cutter, I do believe."
"How do you know?"
"Why, by her shape."
"She seems to be coming this way."
"Yes, bound to Minas Bay, I s'pose. Wal, wal, wal! strange too,--
how singoolarly calm an onterrified I feel in'ardly. Why, boys,
I've seen the time when the sight of a approachin revenoo vessel
would make me shiver an shake from stem to starn. But now how
changed! Such, my friends, is the mootability of human life!"
The boys looked at the steamer for a few moments, but at length
went back to their fishing. The approaching steamer had nothing in
it to excite curiosity: such an object was too familiar to withdraw
their thoughts from the excitement of their lines and hooks, and
the hope which each had of surpassing the other in the number of
catches animated them to new trials. So they soon forgot all about
the approaching steamer.
But Captain Corbet had nothing else to do, and so, whether it was
on account of his lack of employment, or because of the sake of old
associations, he kept his eyes fixed on the steamer. Time passed
on, and in the space of another half hour she had drawn very near
to the Antelope.
Suddenly Captain Corbet slapped his hand against his thigh.
"Declar, if they ain't a goin to overhaul us!" he cried.
At this the boys all turned again to look at the steamer.
"Declar, if that fellow in the gold hat ain't a squintin at us
through his spy-glass!" cried the captain.
As the boys looked, they saw that the Antelope had become an object
of singular attention and interest to those on board of the
steamer. Men were on the forecastle, others on the main deck, the
officers were on the quarter-deck, and all were earnestly
scrutinizing the Antelope. One of them was looking at her through
his glass. The Antelope, as she lay at anchor, was now turned with
her stern towards the steamer, and her sails flapping idly against
the masts. In a few moments the paddles of the steamer stopped,
and at the same instant a gun was fired.
"Highly honored, kind sir," said Captain Corbet, with a grin.
"What's the matter?" asked Bart.
"Matter? Why that thar steamer feels kine o' interested in us, an
that thar gun means, HEAVE TO."
"Are you going to heave to?"
"Nary heave."
"Why not?"
"Can't come it no how; cos why, I'm hove to, with the anchor hard
and fast, ony they can't see that we're anchored."
Suddenly a cry came over the water from a man on the quarter-deck.
"Ship aho-o-o-o-o-oy!"
"Hel-lo-o-o-o-o!"
Such was the informal reply of Captain Corbet.
"Heave to-o-o-o, till I send a boat aboard."
"Hoo-r-a-a-a-a-ay!"
Such was again Captain Corbet's cheerful and informal answer.
"Wal! wal wal!" he exclaimed, "it does beat my grandmother--they're
goin to send a boat aboard."
"What for?"
Captain Corbet grinned, and shook his head, and chuckled very
vehemently, but said nothing. He appeared to be excessively amused
with his own thoughts. The boys looked at the steamer, and then at
Captain Corbet, in some wonder; but as he said nothing, they were
silent, and waited to see what was going to happen. Meanwhile
Solomon, roused from some mysterious culinary duties by the report
of the gun, had scrambled upon the deck, and stood with the others
looking out over the water at the steamer.
In a few moments the steamer's boat was launched, and a half dozen
sailors got in, followed by an officer. Then they put off, and
rowed with vigorous strokes towards the schooner.
Captain Corbet watched the boat for some time in silence.
"Cur'ouser an cur'ouser," he said, at length. "I've knowed the
time, boys, when sech an incident as this, on the briny deep, would
have fairly keeled me over, an made me moot, an riz every har o' my
head; but look at me now. Do I tremble? do I shake? Here, feel my
pulse."
Phil, who stood nearest, put his finger on the outstretched wrist
of the captain.
"Doos it beat?"
"No," said Phil.
"Course it beats; but then it ony beats nateral. You ain't feelin
the right spot--the humane pulse not bein sitooated on the BACK of
the hand," he added mildly, "but here;" and he removed Phil's
inexperienced finger to the place where the pulse lies. "Thar,
now," he added, "as that pulse beats now, even so it beat a half
hour ago, before that thar steamer hev in sight. Why, boys, I've
knowed the time when this humane pulse bet like all possessed. You
see, I've lived a life of adventoor, in spite of my meek and quiet
natoor, an hev dabbled at odd times in the smugglin business. But
they don't catch me this time--I've retired from that thar, an the
Antelope lets the revenoo rest in peace."
The boat drew nearer and nearer, and the officer at the stern
looked scrutinizingly at the Antelope. There was an air of
perplexity about his face, which was very visible to those on
board, and the perplexity deepened and intensified as his eyes
rested on the flag of the "B. O. W. C."
"Leave him to me," said Captain Corbet. "Leave that thar young man
to me. I enjy havin to do with a revenoo officer jest now; so
don't go an put in your oars, but jest leave him to me."
"All right, captain; we won't say a word," said Bruce. "We'll go
on with our fishing quietly. Come, boys--look sharp, and down with
your lines."
The interest which they had felt in these new proceedings had
caused the boys to pull up their hooks; but now, at Bruce's word,
they put them in the water once more, and resumed their fishing,
only casting sidelong glances at the approaching boat.
In a few minutes the boat was alongside, and the officer leaped on
board. He looked all around, at the fish lying about the deck, at
the boys engaged in fishing, at Captain Corbet, at Solomon, at the
mysterious flag aloft, and finally at the boys. These all took no
notice of him, but appeared to be intent on their task.
"What schooner is this?" he asked, abruptly.
"The schooner Antelope, Corbet master," replied the captain.
"Are you the master?"
"I am."
"Where do you belong?"
"Grand Pre."
"Grand Pre?
"Yes."
"Hm," he replied, with a stare around--"Grand Pre--ah---hm."
"Yes, jest so."
"What's that?"
"I briefly remarked that it was jest so."
"What's the reason you didn't lie to, when you were hailed?"
"Lay to?"
"Yes."
"Couldn't do it."
"What do you mean by that?" asked the officer, who was rather
ireful, and somewhat insulting in his manner.
"Wal bein as I was anchored here hard an fast, I don't exactly see
how I could manage to go through that thar manoeuvre, unless you'd
kindly lend me the loan of your steam ingine to do it on."
"Look here, old man; you'd better look out."
"Wal, I dew try to keep a good lookout. How much'll you take for
the loan o' that spy-glass o' yourn?"
"Let me see your papers."
"Papers?"
"Yes, your papers."
"Hain't got none."
"What's that?"
"Hain't got none."
"You--haven't--any--papers?"
"Nary paper."
The officer's brow grew dark. He looked around the vessel once
more, and then looked frowningly at Captain Corbet, who encountered
his glance with a serene smile.
"Look here, old man," said he; "you can't come it over me. Your
little game's up, old fellow. This schooner's seized."
"Seized? What for?"
"For violation of the law, by fishing within the limits."
"Limits? What limits?"
"No foreign vessel can come within three miles of the shore."
"Foreign vessel? Do you mean to call me a foreigner?"
"Of course I do. You're a Yankee fisherman."
"Am I?"
"Of course you are; and what do you mean by that confounded rag up
there?" cried the officer, pointing to the flag of the "B. O. W. C."
"If you think you can fish in this style, you'll find yourself
mistaken. I know too much about this business."
"Do you? Well, then, kind sir, allow me to mention that you've got
somethin to larn yet--spite o' your steam injines an spy-glasses."
"What's that?" cried the officer, furious. "I'll let you know. I
arrest you, and this vessel is seized."
"Wait a minute, young sir," cried Captain Corbet; "not QUITE so
fast, EF you please. You'll get YOURSELF arrested. What do you
mean by this here? Do you know who I am? I, sir, am a subject of
Queen Victory. My home is here. I'm now on my own natyve shore.
A foreigner, am I? Let me tell you, sir, that I was born, brung
up, nourished, married, an settled in this here province, an I've
got an infant born here, an I'm not a fisherman, an this ain't a
fishin vessel. You arrest me ef you dar. You'll see who'll get
the wust of it in the long run. I'd like precious well to get
damages--yea, swingin damages--out of one of you revenoo fellers."
The officer looked around again. It would not do to make a
mistake. Captain Corbet's words were not without effect.
"Yea!" cried Captain Corbet. "Yea, naval sir! I'm a free Nova
Scotian as free as a bird. I cruise about my natyve coasts whar I
please. Who's to hender? Seize me if you dar, an it'll be the
dearest job you ever tried. This here is my own private pleasure
yacht. These are my young friends, natyves, an amatoor fishermen.
Cast your eye down into yonder hold, and see if this here's a
fishin craft."
The officer looked down, and saw a cooking stove, trunks, and
bedding. He looked around in doubt.
But this scene had lasted long enough.
"O, nonsense!" said Bart, suddenly pulling up his line, and coming
forward; "see here--it's all right," said he to the officer.
"We're not fishermen. It's as he says. We're only out on a short
cruise, you know, for pleasure, and that sort of thing."
As Bart turned, the others did the same. Bruce lounged up,
dragging his line, followed by Arthur and the others.
"We're responsible for the schooner," said Bruce, quietly. "It's
ours for the time being. We don't look like foreign fishermen--do
we?"
The officer looked at the boys, and saw his mistake at once. He
was afraid that he had made himself ridiculous. The faces and
manners of the boys, as they stood confronting him in an easy and
self-possessed manner, showed most plainly the absurdity of his
position. Even the mysterious flag became intelligible, when he
looked at the faces of those over whom it floated.
"I suppose it's all right," he muttered, in a vexed tone, and
descended into the boat without another word.
"Sorry to have troubled you, captain," said Corbet, looking blandly
after the officer; "but it wan't my fault. I didn't have charge of
that thar injine."
The officer turned his back without a word, and the men pulled off
to the steamer.
The captain looked after the boat in silence for some time.
"I'm sorry," said he, at length, as he heaved a gentle sigh,--"I'm
sorry that you put in your oars--I do SO like to sass a revonoo
officer."
III.
Solomon surpasses himself.--A Period of Joy is generally followed
by a Time of Sorrow.--Gloomy Forebodings.--The Legend of Petticoat
Jack.--Captain Corbet discourses of the Dangers of the Deep, and
puts in Practice a new and original Mode of Navigation.
This interruption put an end to their attempts at fishing, and was
succeeded by another interruption of a more pleasing character, in
the shape of dinner, which was now loudly announced by Solomon.
For some time a savory steam had been issuing from the lower
regions, and had been wafted to their nostrils in successive puffs,
until at last their impatient appetite had been roused to the
keenest point, and the enticing fragrance had suggested all sorts
of dishes. When at length the summons came, and they went below,
they found the dinner in every way worthy of the occasion.
Solomon's skill never was manifested more conspicuously than on
this occasion; and whether the repast was judged of by the quantity
or the quality of the dishes, it equally deserved to be considered
as one of the masterpieces of the distinguished artist who had
prepared it.
"Dar, chil'en," he exclaimed, as they took their places, "dar,
cap'en, jes tas dem ar trout, to begin on, an see if you ever saw
anythin to beat 'em in all your born days. Den try de stew, den de
meat pie, den de calf's head; but dat ar pie down dar mustn't be
touched, nor eben so much as looked at, till de las ob all."
And with these words Solomon stepped back, leaning both hands on
his hips, and surveyed the banquet and the company with a smile of
serene and ineffable complacency.
"All right, Solomon, my son," said Bart. "Your dinner is like
yourself--unequalled and unapproachable."
"Bless you, bless you, my friend," murmured Bruce, in the intervals
of eating; "if there is any contrast between this present voyage
and former ones, it is all due to our unequalled caterer."
"How did you get the trout, Solomon?" said Phil.
"De trout? O, I picked 'em up last night down in de village," said
Solomon. "Met little boy from Gaspereaux, an got 'em from him."
"What's this?" cried Tom, opening a dish--"not lobster!"
"Lobster!" exclaimed Phil.
"So it is."
"Why, Solomon, where did you get lobster?"
"Is this the season for them?"
"Think of the words of the poet, boys," said Bart, warningly,--
"In the months without the R,
Clams and lobsters pison are."
Solomon meanwhile stood apart, grinning from ear to ear, with his
little black beads of eyes twinkling with merriment.
"Halo, Solomon! What do you say to lobsters in July?"
Solomon's head wagged up and down, as though he were indulging in
some quiet, unobtrusive laughter, and it was some time before he
replied.
"O, neber you fear, chil'en," he said; "ef you're only goin to get
sick from lobsters, you'll live a long day. You may go in for
clams, an lobsters, an oysters any time ob de yeah you like,--ony
dey mus be cooked up proper."
"I'm gratified to hear that," said Bruce, gravely, "but at the same
time puzzled. For Mrs. Pratt says the exact opposite; and so here
we have two great authorities in direct opposition. So what are we
to think?"
"O, there's no difficulty," said Arthur, "for the doctors are not
of equal authority. Mrs. Pratt is a quack, but Solomon is a
professional--a regular, natural, artistic, and scientific cook,
which at sea is the same as doctor."
The dinner was prolonged to an extent commensurate with its own
inherent excellence and the capacity of the boys to appreciate it;
but at length, like all things mortal, it came to a termination,
and the company went up once more to the deck. On looking round it
was evident to all that a change had taken place.
Four miles away lay Ile Haute, and eight or ten miles beyond this
lay the long line of Nova Scotia. It was now about four o'clock,
and the tide had been rising for three hours, and was flowing up
rapidly, and in a full, strong current. As yet there was no wind,
and the broad surface of the bay was quite smooth and unruffled.
In the distance and far down the bay, where its waters joined the
horizon, there was a kind of haze, that rendered the line of
separation between sea and sky very indistinct. The coast of Nova
Scotia was at once enlarged and obscured. It seemed now elevated
to an unusual height above the sea line, as though it had been
suddenly brought several miles nearer, and yet, instead of being
more distinct, was actually more obscure. Even Ile Haute, though
so near, did not escape. Four miles of distance were not sufficient
to give it that grand indistinctness which was now flung over the
Nova Scotia coast; yet much of the mysterious effect of the haze had
gathered about the island; its lofty cliffs seemed to tower on high
more majestically, and to lean over more frowningly; its fringe of
black sea-weed below seemed blacker, while the general hue of the
island had changed from a reddish color to one of a dull slaty blue.
"I don't like this," said Captain Corbet, looking down the bay and
twisting up his face as he looked.
"Why not?"
Captain Corbet shook his head.
"What's the matter?"
"Bad, bad, bad!" said the captain.
"Is there going to be a storm?"
"Wuss!"
"Worse? What?"
"Fog."
"Fog?"
"Yes, hot an heavy, thick as puddin, an no mistake. I tell you
what it is, boys: judgin from what I see, they've got a bran-new
steam injine into that thar fog mill at Grand Manan; an the way
they're goin to grind out the fog this here night is a caution to
mariners."
Saying this, he took off his hat, and holding it in one hand, he
scratched his venerable head long and thoughtfully with the other.
"But I don't see any fog as yet," said Bart.
"Don't see it? Wal, what d'ye call all that?" said the captain,
giving a grand comprehensive sweep with his arm, so as to take in
the entire scene.
"Why, it's clear enough."
"Clear? Then let me tell you that when you see a atmosphere like
this here, then you may expect to see it any moment changed into
deep, thick fog. Any moment--five minutes 'll be enough to snatch
everything from sight, and bury us all in the middle of a unyversal
fog bank."
"What'll we do?"
"Dew? That's jest the question."
"Can we go on?"
"Wal--without wind--I don't exactly see how. In a fog a wind is
not without its advantages. That's one of the times when the old
Antelope likes to have her sails up; but as we hain't got no wind,
I don't think we'll do much."
"Will you stay here at anchor?"
"At anchor? Course not. No, sir. Moment the tide falls again,
I'll drift down so as to clear that pint there,--Cape Chignecto,--
then anchor; then hold on till tide rises; and then drift up.
Mebbe before that the wind 'll spring up, an give us a lift somehow
up the bay."
"How long before the tide will turn?"
"Wal, it'll be high tide at about a quarter to eight this evenin, I
calc'late."
"You'll drift in the night, I suppose."
"Why not?"
"O, I didn't know but what the fog and the night together might be
too much for you."
"Too much? Not a bit of it. Fog, and night, and snow-storms, an
tide dead agin me, an a lee shore, are circumstances that the
Antelope has met over an over, an fit down. As to foggy nights,
when it's as calm as this, why, they're not wuth considerin."
Captain Corbet's prognostication as to the fog proved to be
correct. It was only for a short time that they were allowed to
stare at the magnified proportions of the Nova Scotia coast and
Ile Haute. Then a change took place which attracted all their
attention.
The change was first perceptible down the bay. It was first made
manifest by the rapid appearance of a thin gray cloud along the
horizon, which seemed to take in both sea and sky, and absorbed
into itself the outlines of both. At the same time, the coast of
Nova Scotia grew more obscure, though it lost none of its magnified
proportions, while the slaty blue of Ile Haute changed to a grayer
shade.
This change was rapid, and was followed by other changes. The thin
gray cloud, along the south-west horizon, down the bay, gradually
enlarged itself; till it grew to larger and loftier proportions.
In a quarter of an hour it had risen to the dimensions of the Nova
Scotia coast. In a half an hour it was towering to double that
height. In an hour its lofty crest had ascended far up into the
sky.
"It's a comin," said Captain Corbet. "I knowed it. Grind away,
you old fog mill! Pile on the steam, you Grand Mananers!"
"Is there any wind down there?"
"Not a hooter."
"Is the fog coming up without any wind?"
"Course it is. What does the fog want of wind?"
"I thought it was the wind that brought it along."
"Bless your heart, the fog takes care of itself. The wind isn't a
bit necessary. It kine o' pervades the hull atmosphere, an rolls
itself on an on till all creation is overspread. Why, I've seen
everything changed from bright sunshine to the thickest kind of fog
in fifteen minutes,--yea, more,--and in five minutes."
Even while they were speaking the fog rolled on, the vast
accumulation of mist rose higher and yet higher, and appeared to
draw nearer with immense rapidity. It seemed as though the whole
atmosphere was gradually becoming condensed, and precipitating its
invisible watery vapor so as to make it visible in far-extending
fog banks. It was not wind, therefore, that brought on the clouds,
for the surface of the water was smooth and unruffled, but it was
the character of the atmosphere itself from which this change was
wrought. And still, as they looked at the approaching mist, the
sky overhead was blue, and the sun shone bright. But the gathering
clouds seemed now to have gained a greater headway, and came on
more rapidly. In a few minutes the whole outline of the Nova
Scotia coast faded from view, and in its place there appeared a
lofty wall of dim gray cloud, which rose high in the air, fading
away into the faintest outline. Overhead, the blue sky became
rapidly more obscured; Ile Haute changed again from its grayish
blue to a lighter shade, and then became blended with the
impenetrable fog that was fast enclosing all things; and finally
the clouds grew nearer, till the land nearest them was snatched
from view, and all around was alike shrouded under the universal
veil; nothing whatever was visible. For a hundred yards, or so,
around them, they could see the surface of the water; but beyond
this narrow circle, nothing more could be discerned.
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