The Wreck of the Red Bird: A Story of the Carolina Coast

"Grass seed," answered Jack, throwing his burden on the ground.

"Not much," said Ned; "why it would take both of us a month to gather and thresh out that quantity."

"I thought you scientific people always recognized one fact as worth more than any number of 'must be's'; here I have the facts – a trowsers-full, a shirt-full, and a coat-full, – and yet you argue about what must be and what can't be."

"I admit the trowsers and the shirt and the coat, and I see that they are full," said Ned; "I only doubt the character of their contents. I don't believe you could have gathered such a quantity of grass seed within so short a time."

"Not of the kind that grows here, but mine are not of that kind."

"Let me look at them," said Ned.

"Not till we get to camp; I can't open the bags without spilling a lot."

"Well, tell me about it then."

"Well, I was gathering grasses over there by those tall trees, when I happened to look away toward the south. There I saw, about half a mile away, what looked like a patch of ripe wheat or oats. There were two or three acres of it down in a sort of marsh, so I went over there to see what it was. I found the little marsh covered thickly with a tall grass somewhat like oats, and all had gone to seed. The seeds are about the size of grains of wheat, but rather longer, and each grain, when threshed out, is covered with a brown husk that clings closely to the body of the grain. The seeds themselves are starchy, glutinous, and, if I am not mistaken, excellent food. It was too far to call you, so I made up my mind I would thresh some of the grass and bring away what I could of the result. I filled my shirt, coat, and trowsers, and I should have used my drawers in the same way if I could have carried any more. As it is, I've a big load."

"I should say so," answered Ned, "and a mighty good load, too, if I'm not mistaken."

"Why, what do you suppose it is?"

"Grass seed," answered Ned, "of the kind that we call rice."

"But how did it come there?" asked Jack. "Does rice grow wild?"

"Yes, sometimes. When a rice field is allowed to stand too long before cutting, the grain drops out of the heads, of course, and the next year a fair volunteer crop comes up. In this case, I suppose, the explanation is simple. When the island was abandoned during the war, there was probably a growing crop of rice in that little swamp. If so, it went to seed, and not being harvested, the seed fell to the ground, coming up again the next year only to repeat the process year after year. That's my explanation at any rate, and the only one I can think of. But come! let's go to camp. It isn't worth while now to fool away time over this grass. Now that you have found a rice field, we'll eat rice instead, and some day soon we'll go there and bring back enough to last us till we leave the island."

Upon their arrival at camp the contents of Jack's clothes proved to be, as Ned had conjectured, rough rice; that is to say, rice from which the outer husks have been removed, leaving only the closely clinging inner husk on the grain. The amount secured was sufficient to last the boys for a considerable time, and in the absence of bread, it was a thing of no little moment to them.

CHAPTER XIII

AN ANXIOUS NIGHT

Dinner was cooked and eaten as soon as possible after the return of Ned and Jack to camp, because all three of the boys were eager to make the long-deferred beginning upon the new boat.

"The Red Bird was wrecked last Thursday," said Charley, "and now it is Monday, and yet we haven't even begun to get ready to prepare to commence to build."

"Yes we have, Charley," said Jack. "We have worked diligently at the most important part of the task. We have made first-rate arrangements for food, and that is a good beginning. But we'll actually begin on the boat itself to-day. By the way, Ned, you're to be the master-builder."

"Well, I don't know about that," said Ned; "you were bragging the other day about your mechanical skill, and I'm very modest in that direction. I'm actually a clumsy hand with tools."

"No, I didn't brag," said Jack; "I only stated facts. I believe I am a better workman with tools than either of you fellows, and for that reason I'm willing to take the most difficult jobs on myself, but you must be the superintendent."

"I don't see why," said Ned.

"Because, even if you are clumsy with tools, you know more about a boat in a minute than Charley and I do in a year, and it's a good rule to put each fellow at the thing he can do best."

"All right," said Charley; "I'm the best hand you ever saw at sitting on a log and watching you fellows work, so I'll take that for my share."

"No, you won't," said Ned. "If I'm to superintend this job I'll find something better than that for you to do. But I say, Jack, it's absurd for me to try to tell you how to do things that you can do ten times as well as I."

"I don't want you to tell me how to do, but what to do; then we'll all do it. I'll take the most difficult parts, and besides that I'll give you and Charley some hints about how to do your share, perhaps."

"All right," said Ned, "I'll be superintendent if you wish."

"Very well," said Jack. "Now plan the boat, determine the dimensions, and tell us how to begin."

"Well, let me see," said Ned. "The Red Bird was twenty-four feet long in the keel – twenty-five feet over all, – and five feet wide amidships. We must allow liberally for waste in trying to use the old materials, so we'll take off six feet of length, giving the new boat a keel of eighteen feet, a total length of nineteen feet, and let the beam width take care of itself."

"How do you mean?"

"Why, we shorten amidships only; that is to say we omit the six or eight ribs that were in the middle of the old boat, and bring the next ribs forward and aft to the middle. Whatever width they give will be the width of the boat amidships. In that way we shall preserve the old proportions, while changing the old dimensions. The new boat will be, in shape, precisely what the Red Bird would have been if we had cut out six feet of her length amidships, and had then brought the two ends together."

"Yes, I see," said Charley. "What is the first thing to be done?"

"To lay a keel," said Ned. "The old keel is broken, so we must have a new one. Besides, that was double, for a centre-board, and we'll have to build without a centre-board."

"What are the dimensions of the keel?" asked Jack.

"Eighteen feet long, as nearly as we can guess, and about three inches by six or seven."

"To be set on edge?"

"Yes, and to project below the bottom. That will give steadiness to the boat."

"What is the best timber for the keel?" asked Jack.

"White oak, if we had it, but we haven't. The long-leaf yellow pine is very nearly as good, and for our purposes it is really better, because we can work it more easily. There's a fine, small, straight tree trunk just beyond the camp that will suit us precisely. It has been lying for several years apparently, and is well seasoned. We have only to cut it off the right length, split off slabs till we get a rude square, and then hew it down to the right dimensions with the axe and hatchet. That will occupy us for two days at least, so let's get to work."

The event proved that Ned had underestimated the length of time necessary for this work. The hard, flinty yellow pine, seasoned as it was, was very difficult to work. The axe and hatchet were not very sharp at the outset, and before night both were distressingly dull. The next day, what edges they had were worn away, and it was difficult to cut with them at all. Charley declared that he could do nearly as well with his teeth, but he did not try that experiment. There was no grindstone in the camp, and none to be had, of course, and so the weary boys had to make the best of a bad matter and work on as they could with the dull tools.

On Thursday the keel was not yet quite done, and the rice began to show the effects of the boys' appetites.

"I say, fellows," said Charley, "one of us must go for a fresh supply of rice."

"Yes," said Ned, "it is ripening now, and will all fall if we don't secure a good supply. You go, Charley, won't you?"

"Yes. I'm worth less at carpenter's work than either of you, so I'll go. Pull off your trowsers, both of you."

"Why, what's – " began Ned.

"Yes, I know," interrupted Charley, "I ought to take a bag, or a sheet, or, still better, the spring wagon; but seeing that we haven't any wagon, or bag, or sheet, or any thing else to carry rice in, except trowsers, I'm going to use trowsers; and remembering the tattered condition of Jack's skin after his trowserless stroll through the briars, I'm not going to use my own trowsers for a bag. So off with your pantaloons, young men, and be quick about it, for I'm going to make two trips to-day and bring in rice for the whole season."

Laughing, the boys obeyed, and Charley left them at work in their shirts and drawers. He got back to camp at dinner-time, fully loaded. After dinner he made his second trip, saying that he would return about sunset.

Sunset came at its appointed time, but Charley was not so punctual. It grew dark, and still Charley did not appear. Ned and Jack began to grow uneasy. They went out into the woods in rear of their camp and called at the top of their voices, but received no answer.

"I'll tell you what, Ned," said Jack; "we must build a beacon fire. Charley has stayed late to fill his trowser-bags, and has lost his way trying to get back."