Motor Boat Boys on the Great Lakes Part 22

"Think the bally old storm is over, Jack?" asked Nick, presently.

"The worst of it is, and I believe the wind seems to be dying down a little," came the ready reply, as Jack swept the heavens with anxious eyes.

"I thought that last gust came out a little more toward the west,"

remarked one of the others.

"I'd hate to know that," Jack said. "For old sailors say that when the wind backs up into the west, after being in the north, without going all the way around, it means a return of the storm, from another quarter."

"Time enough to get ash.o.r.e yet!" muttered Josh.

"Go ahead, if you want to," George said grimly. "Take some grub along, if you make up your mind that way. But I don't stir out of this boat unless I'm thrown out. Understand that?"

An hour later, and Jack saw that his worst fears were realized.

"Wind's getting around fast now, fellows," he announced.

"It sure is," Herb admitted; for he had been noticing the increased roughness of the water for a little while back.

"What must we do, Jack?" asked George, with set teeth, and that look of determination in his eyes that stood for so much.

"Hold out as long as we can," came the reply in a steady voice. "Then, when the danger of our being dashed against the rocks grows too great, we'll just have to up-anchor, and start our engines to moving. It will be safer for us out yonder than so near the sh.o.r.e."

Another half hour went by. Then the little boats were pitching and tossing violently, as the full force of the onrushing waves caught them.

"Can't stand it much longer, Jack!" called out George, who was having the most serious time of all.

"Then we might as well make the move now as later!" called Jack. "So get going, both of you. And remember to stand by as close as you can, so that we may help in case an upset happens to any boat."

Of course George knew his chum had the cranky _Wireless_ in mind when he said this; but the peril was not alone confined to the one boat.

Accordingly the engines were started, the anchors gotten aboard after a tremendous amount of hard work; and the little motor boat fleet put to sea, with the intention of trying to ride the storm out as best they might.

If the engines only continued faithful all might yet be well.

CHAPTER XIX

PERIL RIDES THE STORM WAVES

There were anxious hearts among the young cruisers as they started to leave the vicinity of the sh.o.r.e, and head out upon the big heaving seas.

So long as they could keep the boats' bows on the danger would not be so great as if they tried to turn; when those foam-crested waves would strike them sideways, and threaten to turn them on their beam-ends; which would mean destruction.

The motors sang like angry bees whenever the little propellers chanced to be exposed after a retreating wave had pa.s.sed. This was where the greatest peril lay; for the strain on the engine and shaft was terrific at such times, owing to the rapid change of pace.

So Jack, Herb and George found themselves compelled to stick constantly at the job, manipulating the lever, so as to shut off power with each pa.s.sing wave.

They did not make fast time away from the sh.o.r.e; but at the end of half an hour had reached a point where it seemed the height of folly to go farther.

"How is it, George?" Jack sang out.

"Everything moving smoothly over here so far," came the reply.

"And you, Herb?" continued the commodore of the fleet.

"No fault to find, only it's hard work; and I hope we don't have to keep it up all day," replied the skipper of the _Comfort_.

"I don't think that is going to happen," Jack observed. "Seems to me the wind is dying down. When that happens, the waves must gradually grow smaller. Perhaps by afternoon we may be able to proceed, and hunt for a harbor farther along."

"Well, now," George remarked. "I wouldn't be sorry any, let me tell you, fellows. I've been balancing here like a circus acrobat this blessed hour and more, till my legs are stiff."

"Think of me, would you!" bleated Nick.

"Shucks! you're like a ball, and nothing ought to hurt you!" declared Josh.

"I've got feelings, all right, though," the fat boy protested. "But I certain do hope we get our feet on solid ground right soon. I'd just love to see a fire going, and smell the hickory wood burning."

"Yes, it's something more than hickory wood you're longing to smell, and we all know it for a fact," Josh fired back at him.

Nevertheless, they one and all did find encouragement in what Jack had stated. The wind was certainly beginning to die out; and while as yet there could not be any appreciable difference noted in the size of the rollers upon which they mounted, to plunge into the abyss beyond, that would come in time.

During the morning that followed the boys who handled the engines of those three little power boats found occasion to bless the makers of the staunch motors that stood up so valiantly under this severe test.

They had taken on an additional supply of gasoline while at the Soo, and there was little danger of this giving out. Still, as Nick said, this energy was all wasted, and reminded him of soldiers "beating time."

Now and then the boys were able to exchange remarks, especially the three who were not kept busy during this time.

Jack listened to what was said, and while he made no attempt to break into the conversation, he gathered from it that at least Nick, Jimmie and Josh were about ready to call the westward cruise off, and turn around.

So he made up his mind that the matter must be threshed out the very next time they could gather around a fire on sh.o.r.e. As for himself, Jack was thinking along the same lines, and ready to go back to Mackinac Island's quiet waters, in the straits between Lakes Huron and Michigan.

Noon came along, to find them still buffeting the waves; but there had been a considerable change by then.

"After we've had a bite," called out Jack, at which Nick instantly showed attention; "I think we'd better make a start out of this. The waves you notice no longer break, and while your boat would roll more or less, George, I don't think you'd be in any great danger of turning turtle, do you?"

"Oh! I'm only too willing to put out," came the answer. "Anything but this horrible marking time. I like to see the chips fly when I use an axe. I want to see results. And here, this blessed little motor has been churning away for hours, without getting away from our old stand. Yes, let's eat and run."

"That would be bad for digestion," spoke up Nick. "I don't believe in hurrying over meals. I was warned against doing it, unless I wanted to waste away to skin and bones like Josh here."

"Oh! you can take as long as you like," said Herb; "only get busy now, and dish up anything you can find. There's some cold baked beans handy; and open some of that potted beef; it ought to be tasty with the crackers and cheese."

"I'm on the job right off," declared Nick. "You know you never have to hurry me about getting things to eat."

"Mebbe that's why your digestion is so good," said Herb, sarcastically; but the fat boy only grinned as he crawled back to where the eatables were kept.