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

"Hadn't we better wait until we get to Bluffton before we order that supper?" said Jack; "there's 'many a slip,' you know."

"What a croaker you're getting to be, Jack!" exclaimed Charley. "What's to bother us now, I'd like to know? We've got a good boat, we can make oars to-morrow, and Ned knows the way."

"Oh, certainly!" replied Jack. "I suppose we shall get there safely, and I'm not in the least disposed to croak. I only thought that you and Ned were a trifle hasty in your assumption that every thing is to go perfectly smooth with us. For the last month things have had a pretty fixed habit of going the other way."

"Well, but we've conquered our difficulties now, and there's nothing that I can think of to stand in the way of our getting off at the appointed time. And if we leave here at noon on Saturday, what can happen to prevent our arrival at Bluffton that evening?"

"I'm sure I don't know," said Jack; "nothing at all, I hope. But when I think what a chapter of accidents we've been through, I am disposed to wait till I see Maum Sally, before I get my mouth ready for the supper she's to cook."

CHAPTER XXIII

THE VOYAGE OF THE "APHRODITE."

Saturday dawned soft and warm. After breakfast the boys cooked the few provisions that remained, intending to eat their mid-day meal in the boat, as a mere luncheon, and to satisfy their appetites with better food of Maum Sally's preparing, when they should arrive at Bluffton.

They filled the coffee-pot with drinking water – for the water kegs of the Red Bird had been lost in that boat's mishap, – and bestowed their other scant belongings on board. The moment that the outgoing tide grew slack they began their homeward voyage, giving the old camp three lusty, farewell cheers, and parting with their old associations there with a touch of real regret.

For the first mile or two Ned and Jack were at the oars. Then Charley relieved Ned, as the boat drew out from among the low-lying marsh islands into a broad stretch of water.

The wind was blowing in from the sea, not strongly, but steadily, and after an hour's rowing Jack saw that Ned was rather uneasily watching some light, low-flying banks of mist which were scudding along overhead.

"What is it, Ned?" he asked.

"Nothing of importance – or at least I hope so."

"Well, what is it? Do those little clouds mean rain?"

"I wish they did," said Ned; "but they're not clouds, at least in the usual sense, and I'm afraid they don't mean rain."

"Out with it. We're partners in all our joys and sorrows," said Charley, "so let's hear all about the clouds that aren't clouds but something else. What are they?"

"A sea fog," answered Ned; "this breeze is coming in from the sea laden with moisture, and those clouds just above us are banks of fog."

"Well, what of it?"

"We shall be shut in in five minutes," said Ned. "Look! you can't see half a mile now, and it is settling right down upon us, growing thicker every minute."

It was as Ned said. The wall of thick fog was closing in, and it was already impossible to see any thing except the waste of water around them. A few minutes later even the water could be seen for only a few yards around.

"Lie on your oars, boys," said Ned.

"Why not row on?" asked Charley.

"Because I don't know which way to steer, and rowing may only take us out of our course."

"Can't you hold your course straight ahead?"

"No. That would be possible in a fog if rowing always drove a boat straight ahead, and if there were no cross currents in the water; but both 'ifs' stand in the way. Without a compass nobody can keep a boat in any thing like a straight course in such a fog. The tide is running up, and so if we don't row at all we shall drift in the right direction, at least in a general way, while if we row, we may go all wrong."

"How long is such a fog likely to last?" asked Jack.

"It is impossible to tell. A change in the wind or in the state of the atmosphere may clear it away at any moment; or it may last a week."

"A week!" exclaimed Charley; "what shall we do if it does? We haven't an ounce of food left, and only a little water," looking into the coffee-pot.

"We needn't manage the whole week this afternoon," said Jack. "It will be better to keep cool and do the best thing that can be done every minute. Just now, Ned says, the best thing is to drift with the tide, so we'll drift, and wait, and keep our wits about us so as to see any chance that offers for doing better."

Jack spoke in a cheerful voice, and his tone of courage served to brace his companions somewhat, but it was plain to all three that their position was really one of great danger and uncertainty. It was Jack's excellent habit, however, to grow strong and courageous in difficulty or danger; he never allowed himself to become panic-stricken, or to do foolish, frantic things.

"Jack," said Charley after a while, "I don't believe there's any whine in you."

"I don't know," replied Jack; "I hope there isn't. What good would whining do?"

An hour passed, and still the fog grew thicker. Another hour; the breeze had ceased to blow, and the gray mist lay like a blanket over the water. It seemed piled in thick layers, one on top of another. It was so dense that it could be seen floating between one of the boys and another, like smoke from a cigar. The boys could see its slow writhing and twisting in the still air, moved as it was only by their breath, or by the occasional movements of their bodies. It would have been impossible in such a fog to see a ship twenty feet distant.

For still another hour and another the boys sat still in the boat, rarely speaking or in any way breaking the awful silence of the fog-bound solitude.

At last Ned bent his head down close to the gunwale to scan the surface of the water.

"I see marsh grass here," he said, "but it is completely under water. Watch for any that shows above the surface, and if you see any catch hold of it and hold on."

The boys bent over, one on one side, the other on the other. Presently the protruding tops of the tall marsh grass appeared above the water, and seemed to float slowly by. Several times Jack and Charley caught small bunches of it, but the impetus of the drifting boat was too great, and the grass was pulled up from the muddy bottom. After a little while, the water growing shallower, the grass showed higher above the surface, while it increased also in quantity, impeding the motion of the boat. Then each of the boys seized a bunch and the boat was brought to a stand.

"There, that's better," said Ned, as the motion of the boat ceased.

"Why don't you want to drift?" asked Jack.

"Because it is about the turn of the tide," answered Ned, "and I don't want to drift in the wrong direction."

"Then why didn't you cast anchor when you first saw from the grass that we were in shallow water?"

"Because I don't want to be caught here on a marsh island if I can help it."

"I don't understand," said Jack.

"Well, you see it is about high tide now, and we have drifted upon one of the many mud banks covered with this marsh grass. Some of them are covered with water at high tide, as this one is, but quite bare when the tide is out. When I saw that we were drifting over one I wanted to stop the boat, to avoid being carried back again toward the sea; but we're in danger of getting left here high and dry on a mud bank when the tide runs out, and that would be a bad fix to get into. So instead of dropping anchor, we'll simply hold on by the grass, and as the tide goes out we'll try to work off into deeper water."

"I see," said Jack.

"I wish I could, then," said Charley, who had recovered his spirits; "if I could see I'd steer for Bluffton."

"Come, Charley," said Ned, "this is no joking matter, I can assure you. It's growing quite dark now, and unless the fog lifts very soon we may be stuck here in the mud, for the night at least; suppose you give her a few stokes with the oars, boys; the tide is falling rapidly, and we must get off this bank."

The boys rowed slowly, Ned steering and watching the water. It grew steadily shallower, so he turned the boat about, convinced that the direction he had taken was toward the centre of the bank, instead of toward the deep water. He had not gone far in the new direction however, before the keel scraped the mud, and another change had to be made in the course. Still the keel scraped, in whatever direction he turned.

"Pull away with all your might, boys!" he cried; "if we don't reach deep water in five minutes we're stuck!"

Jack and Charley bent to their oars, and for a few minutes the boat slipped forward through the tall marsh grass. But her keel was dragging in the soft mud, and as the tide was rapidly running out, the boat sank deeper every minute.