Canoe Boys and Campfires Part 34

Just at this moment the three boys, coming on behind, caught a glimpse of the anch.o.r.ed boat and were quick to grasp the situation.

"Look out, Randy!" cried Ned at the top of his voice. "Danger ahead!

Paddle to the right, quick!"

Randy turned around and looked stupidly at his companions for an instant. Then he seized the paddle and tried hard to follow Ned's advice. Too late! The Water Sprite was forging ahead now under full pressure, and was not to be diverted from its course.

The two occupants of the boat had heard Ned's warning cry without catching the words, but they did not turn around because each happened to have a bite at that moment.

Then the little man jerked out a plump catfish, and as he reached for the line, which had swung behind him, he saw the flaming red sail looming almost overhead. He had barely time to spring to his feet and utter a terrific yell, when the collision came.

The shock tossed the fat man off the stool and threw him across the edge of the boat. As the little man was knocked down at the same instant, the one sided pressure naturally caused the boat to tip, and over it went, throwing fishermen, dog, and all into the water.

CHAPTER x.x.x

A NIGHT ALARM

By that strange destiny which oftentimes frowns on the good and lends a helping hand to the evil, Randy experienced no very disastrous results from the collision. The canoe rebounded a few feet, and the sail fell from the mastpole into the water.

He was terribly shaken up, it is true, but far greater was the shock when he realized what he had done. At first nothing was visible but the upturned boat and a yellow dog paddling on all fours for the nearest bank.

It was manifestly impossible that the dog could have been the only occupant of the boat, and besides Randy had heard a shrill cry just before the collision. He was much relieved therefore when a head shot above the water a few feet below the boat.

This belonged to the little man, and an instant later his fat companion came to the surface. The latter had lost his hat, and the top of his head was as white and shiny as a billiard ball.

The little man sounded for bottom, and not finding it, swam vigorously for sh.o.r.e. The fat man tried the same experiment, and being a good head and a half taller than his companion, obtained footing at a depth which brought the water almost to his chin. Having thus strengthened his position, he spat the water from his mouth and turned his head around to see what occult power was responsible for his misfortune.

When he saw Randy quietly sitting in the canoe a few yards above his face purpled with rage.

"You'll pay for this outrage," he stuttered hoa.r.s.ely. "I'll beat you black and blue when I get hold of you. I'll give you six months in the county jail at hard labor, you brainless young ruffian--you audacious wooden headed idiot, you--"

Just then the angry gentleman's string of epithets was cut short in a summary manner, for the wet folds of the blanket sail, which had somehow managed to drift around the corner of the boat, slapped him on the mouth, and the unexpected shock caused him to lose his balance and slip under water.

Such an opportunity was not to be neglected, and with quick, furious strokes Randy paddled around the upturned boat and headed down stream, bent on escaping the promised chastis.e.m.e.nt.

The fat man came up directly beneath the sail, and consequently had to go under for a second attempt. This time he was all right, and the moment his head was out of water and his feet planted on the bottom he caught sight of Randy, who was just gliding by at a distance of half a dozen feet.

"Stop, you rascal, stop!" he yelled hoa.r.s.ely.

Randy did not obey; he only paddled the faster.

The irascible old fellow glared at him in helpless rage for a second, and then his face lit up with an awful smile as he saw the big fishing pole floating on the water within reach. The line was fastened in some way to the boat.

It was the work of an instant to s.n.a.t.c.h the pole and tear it free. Then lifting it overhead the man made a furious stroke at the rapidly receding canoe.

Whisk! whisk! came the elastic end with stinging force against Randy's back and shoulders. Maddened by the pain he partially rose and leaned forward. At the second blow he reeled to one side, stumbled against the combing, and went out of the canoe backward without upsetting it.

His enemy was by no means satisfied with what punishment he had already inflicted. He dropped the pole, and made haste to join the little man and yellow dog on the bank.

"Ebenezer," he cried angrily, "pursue that young rascal. Chase him down the creek. If you catch him I'll give you a five dollar bill."

More from fear of disobeying than from any hope of earning the reward, the little man started off on a run with the yellow dog at his heels.

Just at this moment Ned and his companions reached the scene of the disaster. The fat man stopped wringing the water from his trousers to shake his fist at them.

"You're all alike," he growled, "all alike! I never saw a boy that wasn't a born reprobate. I wish I had you out on sh.o.r.e; I'd teach you a lesson."

Ned tried to explain that the upsetting of the boat was a pure accident, but the angry man refused to hear him.

"Don't tell me," he muttered, "I know better."

Realizing that further argument would be futile, the boys made what amends they could by chasing the two fishing rods and the hat, and then lifting the anchors of the boat and pushing it to sh.o.r.e.

The fat man acknowledged these favors with a surly nod of his head, and so threatening was his manner that the boys hastily retreated from the bank, and paddled down stream, stopping on the way to recover the sail.

Meanwhile Randy had quietly swum down the creek some distance, pushing the canoe ahead of him, and landed on the left sh.o.r.e. The boys could see him plainly as he stood on a rock wringing the water from his clothes.

Having no inclination to swim the creek, Ebenezer had given up the chase and was now returning along the right bank. When he came opposite the boys Ned called out:

"Say, tell me who that stout gentleman is, will you?"

The little man hesitated before replying. "That's Judge Gibson, of Carlisle," he said finally in a very impressive tone. "You fellers may be glad you ain't sittin' afore him in the dock this minute--especially that chap down yonder. O, my! wouldn't you get salty sentences though!"

A loud summons from the judge started the little man off in a hurry, and the conversation came to an abrupt ending.

The boys soon joined Randy, and finding him in a decidedly bad temper, they made as little allusion as possible to what had occurred. It was evident from the way he shrugged his shoulders that the blows of the fishing pole had left a good deal of a sting.

Not knowing what might be expected of Judge Gibson, the boys concluded to be on the safe side, and as soon as Randy had changed his clothes they paddled away from the vicinity.

About one o'clock a halt was made for lunch, and as the air was disagreeably damp and cutting, Ned boiled a pot of coffee.

The cruise was resumed an hour later, and during the afternoon a close watch was kept for suitable camping places. The indications all presaged bad weather, and there was no doubt that rain would set in by morning--if not sooner.

About four o'clock a camping ground was discovered that met with general approval--a sheltered spot amid great pine trees on the right bank. In the rear was a steep hill, and a limestone spring was conveniently close.

The boys spent just one solid hour in arranging things to their satisfaction, for their stay was likely to be a protracted one, and they wanted everything snug and comfortable before the rain came.

The tent was staked with more than ordinary care, and then a ditch was dug around all four sides and the dirt thrown on the edges of the canvas. A stone fireplace was built between two trees and within easy reach of the tent door.

A layer of fragrant pine boughs was spread on the floor of the tent, and both front corners were piled with firewood. The arrangements were completed by dragging the canoes to the top of the bank and removing all that they contained.

"That is what I call snug," said Randy complacently. "I won't mind staying here two or three days. How are we fixed for provisions?"

"Bread will run short to-morrow, but we have plenty of everything else,"

replied Ned. "No doubt there are farm houses near."