In the Misty Seas: A Story of the Sealers of Behring Strait

"Tom," he said softly, "there aren't any stones. Still, I could heave a lump of stiff mud through the window, and that would fetch him."

Appleby shook his head. "There are tiles yonder, and they would do as well," he said. "You see, we are entitled to the duck, but Jimmy's window is another thing. Give me a minute, and then begin."

He slipped away into the gloom of a hedge, and it was evidently high time, for a dog commenced growling. Niven felt very lonely as he stood still in the rain, but the depression only lasted a moment or two, and in another minute he had flung a big tile upon the roof. When the second went banging and rattling down the slates he raised a high-pitched howl.

"Jimmy, come out," he said. "Come out, you shuttle-toed clay stamper, and be a man."

He was not kept waiting long. The door swung open and a man stood out black against the light in the opening. He was peering into the darkness, and apparently grasped a good-sized stick, but when another tile crashed against the low roof above his head he saw the object deriding him in the mud.

"Ellen, loose the dog," he said as he sprang forward.

Niven promptly darted up the lane, but there were two things he had not counted on, and one of them was the dog, for Jimmy had not kept one when they last passed his cottage. The other was even more embarrassing, for while Niven could run tolerably well on turf in cricket shoes the deep sticky mud was different, and one of the boots which were somebody else's would slip up and down his foot. Still because Jimmy was not far behind him, he did all he could, and was disgusted to find that a tileworks labourer could run almost as well as he did. Indeed, for the first Five minutes he had a horrible suspicion that Jimmy was running better, but presently it became evident that the splashing thud of heavy boots grew no louder, and he saw that he was at least maintaining his lead. Still, he could not shake off the pursuer, and while he held on with clenched hands and laboured breath an unfortunate thing happened. One foot sank deep in a rut, Niven staggered, blundered through another stride, and then rolled over in the grass under a tall hedge. That was bad, but it was worse to find that he had now only a stocking upon one foot. Jimmy was also unpleasantly close, and Niven, seeing he could not escape by flight, rolled a little further beneath the hedge.

Then he lay very still while the man came floundering down the road, and held his breath when he stopped as if to listen close beside him.

"The young varmint has made for the hedge gap," gasped the man. "If I cut across to the stile I might ketch him."

He went on, and when his footsteps could no longer be heard Niven crawled out and felt in the puddles for the boot. It was not to be found, and rising with a groan he worked round towards the back of the cottage. The dog was growling all the time, and he could hear a woman's voice as well as a rattle of chain, but presently he saw a dark object gliding along beneath a hedge. When he came up with it he noticed that Appleby had something in his hand.

"I've got it," he said.

Niven looked at the object he held up. "It's very quiet," he said.

"Of course!" said Appleby. "You wouldn't make much noise without your head. Killing anything is beastly, but there was a billhook handy. We've no time for talking now. It's a good big dog."

They crossed a field, and Niven's shoeless foot did not greatly embarrass him until they crawled through a hedge into recent ploughing, while as they plodded over it the growling of the dog drew nearer.

"Come on!" gasped Appleby. "She has got him loose at last."

The beast was close at hand when another hedge rose up blackly against the sky before them, and Niven swung off a little towards an oak that grew out of it.

"It's a horrible brute, but it can't climb a tree. I'm going for the oak," he said.

Appleby grasped his shoulder. "Jimmy could," he said. "Go on, and try if you can pull one of those stakes in the gap up."

In another minute Niven was tearing out a thick stake, and felt a little happier when he saw the end of it was sharpened, while Appleby had clawed up a big clod of stiff clay from the ploughing.

"He's only a cur, any way, and I think there's a stone in it," he said.

They could now dimly see the dog, and it was evident that it saw them, for it stopped, and then commenced to work round sideways in their direction, growling as though a little disconcerted by their waiting.

"It's an ugly beast," said Niven, whose heart was in his mouth. "It would get us if we ran."

"We're not going to run," said Appleby quietly, though his voice was a trifle hoarse. "Howl at him, Chriss."

Niven commenced a discordant hissing, and the dog growled more angrily. They could see it black against the ploughing, and it looked very big. Appleby was standing perfectly still with something held up above his head, and drew back a pace when the brute came creeping towards him.

"Here's something for you, Towser," he said, flinging his arm up.

Then a howl followed, and next moment Niven was tearing up the clay, and hurling it in handfuls after something that seemed fading in the dimness of the field. When he could see it no longer he stood up breathless.

"We've beaten him," he gasped. "It's about time we were going."

They went at once, and did not stop until they reached the road, where Niven leaned against a gate, and glanced down ruefully at his foot.

"It wasn't so bad on the grass, but I don't know how I'm going to get home now," he said.

"Put up your foot," said Appleby. "We'll tie our handkerchiefs round it."

He was quick with his fingers, but when they turned homewards Niven was not exactly happy. He was wet and very muddy, while, as he afterwards observed, walking a long way on one foot is not especially easy. It was also raining steadily, and a little trickle from his soaked cap ran down his shoulders, while the bare hedgerows seemed to crawl back towards them very slowly. The mud squelched and splashed underfoot, and there was only the crying of the plover in the darkness.

"I never fancied it was such a beastly long way to the tileworks," he said as he limped on painfully.

At last when the knotted handkerchief hurt his foot horribly a light or two blinked faintly through the rain, and presently they plodded into the silent village. Nobody seemed to see them, the window they had slipped out of was still open, and crawling in they went up the stairway and along the corridor on tiptoe with the water draining from them. Niven had expected to find his comrades asleep, and was too wet and dispirited to wish to waken them, but there was a murmur of sympathy when he crept in.

"I wouldn't be you," said somebody. "The Head came in to ask how many panes in the greenhouse Nettleton had broken, and he saw you were away."

"And he came back, and threatened to keep the whole of us here to-morrow, if we didn't tell him where you were," said another lad. "It was very nice of you to let us all into lumber."

"Did you tell him?" asked Appleby.

"Of course!" said a third speaker sardonically. "It's just what we would do. I'll thank you for that to-morrow, and I'd get up now only the Head would hear us, and he's breathing slaughter."

"Tearing around," said Bluey the Nova Scotian. "Cutlasses and pistols, and the magazine open! You know the kind of thing you're fond of reading."

Niven, who was tired out, groaned. As he told his comrades afterwards he had enjoyed himself sufficiently already, and one wanted to brace up before a visit from the Head.

"What are we going to do, Tom?" he said.

Appleby laughed softly. "I'm going straight to bed," he said. "The Head's busy, and there mayn't be anything very dreadful if he sends Pearson."

He was undressed in another two minutes, and as Niven crept into bed somebody said, "Did you get the duck?"

"We did," said Niven solemnly. "And be hanged to it! That's enough for you or anybody, and don't worry me. I want to be asleep when the Head comes."

"You needn't be afraid he'll mind waking you," said another lad. "I'd rolled up my jacket, so it looked just like Appleby's big head, and when he saw it wasn't, he got speechless mad."

Ten minutes passed, and Niven was just feeling a little warm again when there were footsteps in the corridor. They drew nearer, and with a little gasp of dismay he swung himself out of and then under his bed. A swish and a rustle told him that Appleby had followed his example, and a voice from under the adjoining cot said, "He'll go away again if he doesn't find us, and we may tire him out before the morning."

Next moment the door was opened, and while a light shone in somebody said, "Asleep, of course, all of you! Have Niven and Appleby returned yet?"

Niven, glancing out from under his cot, saw a robust elderly gentleman holding a candle above him, while he swung what looked like a horse girth suggestively in his other hand, but a snore answered the master's question, and he laughed unpleasantly.

"We have had sufficient nonsense," he said. "You can either tell me at once where your comrades went, or improve your memories by writing lines the rest of the night."

Here and there a sleepy object sat up on a bed, but there was still no answer, and the head of Sandycombe School tapped his foot impatiently on the flooring.

"I'm not in a mood for trifling, boys," he said. "You have another minute to decide in, and nobody in this room will go home to-morrow if you do not tell me then."