Canoe Boys and Campfires Part 10

About this time the moon came out from a bank of fleecy clouds, and the light--feeble though it was--enabled the boys to make better speed, and to keep a watch ahead for shoals.

A moment later they wished with all their hearts that the moon was on the other side of the globe, for a bend in the channel revealed a fire on the right bank, a short distance below. The flames were partly screened by a fringe of bushes, but not sufficiently to prevent the ruddy light from flas.h.i.+ng far across the water.

"That must be Bug Batters's camp," whispered Ned.

"It will be a ticklish operation to get by if the men are on the watch.

We can manage to, though, if we are prudent and don't lose our heads.

Don't breathe a word or make any noise with your paddles. Just stick close to me."

Ned headed for the left bank, which was thickly wooded, and paddled slowly and noiselessly along the very edge. The others followed his example, and in a short time the three canoes were directly opposite the fire. Two dark figures squatting beside it could be plainly seen. The dancing reflection of the flames revealed the boat pulled partially out of water, and stretched far beyond mid channel.

It was a thrilling moment. Discovery at first seemed inevitable, for the men were facing the creek. But as no alarm came, and the canoes crept deeper into the friendly gloom, the boys began to breathe more easily.

They did not relax their caution until the fire was two or three hundred yards in the rear. Then Ned signified that the danger was over by paddling boldly and swiftly toward mid-channel.

"I hope we have seen the last of Bug Batters and his companion," he said, "and I really believe that they won't give us any more trouble."

"I'm glad to hear you say so," replied Clay. "That's my opinion, too. If we put about ten miles between us and them we ought to feel safe."

"Better make it twenty," remarked Nugget uneasily. "Then we will be twice as safe."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," laughed Ned. "I say, fellows, it must have been a pretty stiff ordeal for Randy to go by that fire, within sight of the man he peppered with salt."

"Well, I should say so," returned Clay. "When we catch up with him we'll ask him how he felt."

"But that won't be for some time to come," said Ned, "unless we move a little faster. Try to keep up with me, and don't lag behind."

He started off with short, quick strokes, and after a brief race the others settled down abreast of him.

The moon outlined the limits of the creek very distinctly, s.h.i.+ning first from one side, then from the other, as the channel followed its tortuous course. The water continued deep and fairly swift, and during the next hour and a half the boys must have paddled no less than six or seven miles.

Nothing was seen of Randy, but this fact was easily explained, since he had gained considerable on his companions at the start, and had moreover a light and easily running canoe.

Presently the sky to the eastward became faintly streaked with gray, and the close night air was succeeded by a fragrant and delicious breeze.

Dawn came on apace, heralded by the singing of birds, and the splas.h.i.+ng of fish in search of the early insect. The mist began to rise from the water, and in some distant barnyard hungry cattle lowed.

"There is some compensation in night travel," said Ned. "It will be a treat to see the sun come up. Two or three miles more and then we'll hunt a snug camping place, and have a plunge in the creek, and a good breakfast on top of it, and sleep until afternoon. I don't feel very tired just now, but I'm ravenously hungry."

"So am I," echoed Clay and Nugget in one breath.

As the daylight advanced the boys paddled on with light hearts. In the long level stretch that was now ahead of them no sign of Randy was visible. As the next bend--an unusually sharp one--drew near, a dull, roaring sound was heard.

"That must be a bit of swift water," observed Ned; "I hope it's long enough to give us a good spin."

"But won't it be dangerous?" asked Nugget uneasily.

"Of course not," replied Clay. "There couldn't be any danger on a small stream like this, and besides Batters told us everything was smooth for twelve miles ahead."

It is more than probable that when Batters made this statement he had in mind his own safe and bulky craft, which could have stood any amount of rough usage without upsetting. But this version of the matter did not occur to the boys. They confidently paddled on, hoping to find a stretch of swift water that would give them a lift on their journey.

Just at the commencement of the curve a spit of rocks and trees jutted out from the right sh.o.r.e. As the boys were whirled swiftly around this, the first brief glimpse of what lay beyond proved far from satisfactory.

The creek narrowed to half its former width, and the greater part of even this contracted channel was rendered unnavigable by a long bar of gravel and gra.s.s, over which an inch or so of water crawled sluggishly.

The main channel--only half a dozen feet wide--headed abruptly to the right, and swept at breakneck speed in a perfect half circle under the outwardly projecting base of a steep and wooded hill. Here and there the bushes hung down to meet the madly tossing waves, and swayed violently.

It was already too late to turn back, and it was equally out of the question to cut across the swift rus.h.i.+ng current and gain the shallow bar. Speedy disaster would have resulted from _that_ step.

Ned was half a canoe's length in advance, and without a second's delay he swung the bow of the Pioneer around to meet the curve of the channel.

"Paddle toward the left!--the left!" he shouted hoa.r.s.ely to his companions. "Keep your heads down when you come to the bushes."

Ned had no chance to say more. His own affairs required his undivided attention. With a dizzy jerk he swung into the half circle, rising and falling with the huge waves. A few tremendous paddle strokes deflected him to the left, and fortunately he cleared the outer fringe of bushes.

Just when the worst seemed to be over the Pioneer ran broadside on a submerged rock, tipped instantly, and out went Ned head over heels.

He was dragged clear to the bottom of the rapids before he could gain a foothold. Then, waist deep in water, he grabbed the Pioneer as it drifted by him, and waded with it to a narrow landing place at the base of the hill.

Even less fortunate was Nugget. The dizzy whirl of the current and the jolting motion of the waves so terrified him that he dropped his paddle and clutched the combing with both hands. Then, as the bushes directly ahead caught his eye, he threw up his arms and seized them.

The next instant the canoe was whisked from under him, leaving him clinging to the frail support, shrieking with terror and bobbing up and down on the waves. He remained in this position only a few seconds.

Clay's canoe struck him obliquely, and the concussion caused it to swing broadside and upset. Both lads were rolled over and over to the foot of the rapids, where Ned helped them and their canoes to sh.o.r.e.

CHAPTER IX

A SAFE SHELTER

For a moment the three wrecked Jolly Rovers could only stare blankly at their dripping clothes, and at one another. The whole thing had taken place so quickly that they did not as yet realize the extent of the misfortune.

Finally Ned and Clay broke into a hearty laugh, while Nugget sat down on a rock and wiped the tears from his eyes.

"Hullo, there!" cried a familiar voice, as Randy appeared from behind a patch of bushes a few yards down the sh.o.r.e. "Great Caesar! what a mess you fellows are in!"

"Thanks to you," replied Ned. "Why didn't you come up the creek and warn us?"

"That's just what I was on my way to do, 'pon my honor it was. I couldn't get here a minute sooner. I upset in that beastly place myself, and was carried down below those bushes. Look at that!" Randy pointed to his muddy feet and wet clothes. It was evident that he was speaking the truth.

"Well, what's done can't be undone," said Ned. "We must make the best of it. I'm afraid, the water has spoilt a good deal of our stuff."

"You can count yourselves lucky if your canoes aren't injured," rejoined Randy. "The rocks tore the keel nearly off of mine, and it leaks like a basket."

"Then we are in for a long delay," exclaimed Ned vexatiously. "It's unfortunate just at this time, when we ought to be four or five miles farther down the stream."

"You won't think so when I show you the place I've found," replied Randy. "We could camp there for a month, and no one would be any the wiser. It's over on the left sh.o.r.e where the current first landed me. I had a look at the spot and then waded to this side with the canoe."

"The first thing is to get dry clothes on," returned Ned. "The morning air is too cool for comfort."