The Bungalow Boys Along the Yukon Part 19

The profound stillness rendered the scene still more impressive as the alarmed party stood thunderstruck on the deck of the castaway steamer.

"What can have happened?" demanded Jack.

"Perhaps the mooring rope broke," suggested Sandy.

"Not likely. It was a brand new one of the best manilla," declared Mr.

Dacre. "There is more in this than appears."

"The first thing to do is to get out an anchor before we drift down on a sand-bar," said Mr. Chillingworth.

"Yes, it's a miracle we haven't struck one already," agreed Mr. Dacre.

The boys hustled off to get overboard the heavy spare anchor that the drifting steamer carried on her bow. But as the splash that announced that it was in the stream came to their ears and the rope began to tauten, there was a heavy shock that almost threw them all off their feet.

"Let out more rope!" cried Tom, thinking that the sudden tautening of the anchor rope had caused the shock.

"No need to do that," said Mr. Dacre, "we are anch.o.r.ed hard and fast."

"Where?"

"On a sand-bar."

CHAPTER XIX.

HARD ASh.o.r.e.

It was at this juncture that Tom came aft with a rope trailing in his hand. It was the original rope. He had drawn it aboard when he discovered it dangling from the mooring bitts into the water.

"Look at this rope," he cried excitedly. "It was no accident that we went adrift."

"What do you mean?" asked Mr. Dacre.

"That it was cut."

"Cut?"

"Yes."

"How do you know that?"

"All the rope is not here. If it had slipped from the anchor we cast ash.o.r.e among the rushes, or if the anchor had slipped, it would be."

"Perhaps some animal chewed it."

"We'll soon see that. Who's got a match?"

Tom struck a lucifer. As it flared up, Mr. Dacre took the end of the rope in his hand. A single glance sufficed. The rope had been severed so cleanly that there was no question that it had been done by a sharp knife. No animal's teeth could have made that neat, clean incision.

"Well, what do you think of that?" demanded Tom.

"Who could hae done it?" wondered Sandy.

"I know." Jack interjected the remark with confidence.

"Who?"

"Those natives. That bunch that raided our pantry."

"By Jove, boy, I believe you are right," declared Mr. Chillingworth.

"It would be just like one of their tricks."

"Well, here we are, stuck hard and fast," said Mr. Dacre. "I suppose those natives would feel highly gratified if they could see our predicament."

"I guess we ought to be glad that they didn't set the boat on fire,"

commented Jack indignantly. "I'd like to have a brief interview with them."

As an examination showed that the _Yukon Rover_ was in no particular danger, it was decided to wait till daylight before trying to get her off the bar. In the meantime, Sandy went below and began getting up steam, for he had banked his fires during the sleeping period. The others discussed the situation.

It was plain that they had drifted some distance, though how far they had, of course, no means of estimating. Although no actual harm had been done, they naturally felt incensed against the natives, who they were certain had played the scurvy trick on them. Had the wily old chief and his followers happened along just then, they would have met with a warm reception. Perhaps it was just as well that they did not.

After hot coffee had been served out, all hands went to work with a will to release the steamer from her sandy bed. But this proved to be no easy task. It had been hoped that she could be got off under her own power by dint of utilizing the stern wheel. But the blades of the wheel were stuck in the sand, and to have tried to work them might have crippled the ship permanently.

Another plan, therefore, was adopted. The boys got out the small boat and taking the anchor on board carried it some distance up the stream.

Then they returned to the ship and began heaving with might and main on the cable, using the small capstan to do this. A cheer went up when, after about half an hour of back-breaking work, they felt the _Yukon Rover_ give a quiver and move about an inch.

"Hurrah, boys! Keep it up! We'll soon be afloat!" cried Tom cheerfully.

Sure enough, as they worked they got the vessel further and further off the sand-bank and at last had the satisfaction of feeling her floating free. As soon as this happened, the engine was started and the steamer began bucking the current once more. The anchor was hoisted as the _Yukon Rover_ came "up on it" and the voyage, which had been so mischievously interrupted, was resumed with great cheerfulness. About ten miles up the river they came to the spot where they had anch.o.r.ed the night before. The steamer was stopped and the boys went ash.o.r.e to investigate. On the banks were the tell-tale marks of the keels of the bidarkas and numerous footmarks around them. The anchor was found undisturbed, with about ten feet of rope attached to it, and was brought back on board.

The resumption of the journey found them still traversing much the same kind of country as that they had hitherto steamed through. Low banks, thickly grown with alders and other water-loving trees, islands covered with willows, sand-bars and sluggish, outbranching sloughs innumerable.

These willow islands formed troublesome obstructions to navigation.

But the outcropping willows at least served one useful purpose. They indicated the presence of sand-bars which, in some instances, lay several feet beneath the surface of water at the high stage of the river. It was not till some days later, during which time they had steadily bucked the current, only tying up for sleep, that the character of the scenery began to change and the boys felt that they were really getting into a wild country at last.

The flat banks and occasional small towns with remnants of Russian forts and occupancy about them, had been left behind. Now the banks shot up steeply above the swift current, and the _Yukon Rover_ was called upon to test her power against the full strength of the stream.

One night,--of course, it was not dark, but "rest time,"--the travelers tied up on the north bank of the stream under a particularly precipitous ma.s.s of cliff. It towered above them like the side wall of a skysc.r.a.per. Mr. Dacre, who examined it, declared that it had once been a glacier, and there were still traces of glacial action visible upon it. The ground thereabouts was also rich in fossils and the boys obtained permission to go ash.o.r.e and collect a few of these last.

They set off in high spirits, landing by the long gangplank which the _Yukon Rover_ carried for such purposes. Shouting and laughing they made their way up through the woods till they had clambered to quite a height. All their pockets were bulging with specimens of rock formation, many of them very curious.

"Let's go over to the edge of that glacier," said Sandy, "and hae a look doon on the river. It must be a grand sight."

Nothing loath, they struck off over the rough ground under the larch and pine trees, and soon found themselves at the edge of the sharp acclivity, which had been ground almost to the smoothness of a board by a mighty glacier centuries before. They had not climbed so far above the river as they had imagined from the laboriousness of the ascent. In fact, they were surprised to find that far from being at the top of the glacier, hundreds of feet of its extent still towered above them.

Below lay the _Yukon Rover_ tied to the bank, with the smoke wisping lazily from her funnel. Mr. Dacre and his partner sat out on deck reading. It was a peaceful scene, the silence broken only by the voice of the river as its mighty current hastened down to the sea. All at once though, the calm of the scene was rudely scattered by a loud yell from Sandy.