It was intolerable. Kenneth’s vessel was actually being destroyed under him and no move of his could prevent it.
Beside himself with despair and rage, he shouted at the blank wall of the grain boat, and in blind fury put his hands against it and pushed—his puny4 strength against a thousand tons.
“It’s a wonder you boys don’t go to sleep after a day on the path.” The speaker’s head showed over the rail of the barge5.
The fearful mockery of his words drove poor Kenneth almost crazy, and he shouted at the man words that had no meaning—inarticulate sounds that voiced his agony.
Still the crush continued, until the yacht was forced almost out of water and her deck was squeezed into a sharp, convex curve. The poor boat groaned6, as if in pain.
The man on the barge looked down on the terrified boys calmly, stupidly; perfectly8 aware that by no act of his could he avert9 the catastrophe10.
But still the pressure continued. The boys gathered their scattered11 wits together, and, with energy that seemed futile12 even as they called, shouted for help.
Then came an answering shout, a sound of moving feet on the grain barge’s deck, a sharp, urging call to a team, the snap of a whiplash. The barge began to slide off, and the “Gazelle,” released from the powerful grip, settled down. Kenneth and his friends stood poised14, ready to spring ashore15 when the vessel—her seams opened to the flood—should sink.
With a slowness that was nerve-racking, the iron monster moved away until the yacht was wholly released; with a groan7 that was like a sigh of relief she settled to her normal water line, bobbed up and down a little, as if to adjust herself to her more comfortable position, and floated quietly and safe.
Kenneth could not believe his eyes, but rushed below, and, pulling up the square trap in the cabin floor, thrust his hand far into the bilge, expecting to see the water come bubbling out of the well. He was beside himself with joy to find no oozing16 seams, no leaking crannies—she was dry.
He shouted aloud to his friends on deck the joyful17 news, and they came tumbling down, incredulous, to feel and see for themselves.
Again the wonderful little craft had stood the test, the most severe in her varied18 experience. The sturdy timbers, so carefully steamed, bent, and joined together, squeezed all out of their rightful shape, sprang back to their designed lines as soon as released from the awful pressure.
When the commander of the fleet came back and offered to make good any damage his boat had caused, the boys were too full of joy and gratitude20 to exact any damages.
Beyond the started joints21 in the hardwood finish of the cabin, the yacht was unhurt, and they could not conscientiously22 ask for money even if they wished.
The fleet captain went off, and, as the barge slipped off into the night, the voice of the man on deck came back to the boys: “Ye blamed fools, why didn’t ye punch a hole in her and go home like gentlemen on the money you’d get?”
Ruin his boat! Kenneth would almost as willingly cut off his right hand. His fingers itched23 to clutch and shake the man who made such a degrading proposition.
Once more the crew and their faithful boat had escaped destruction as if by a miracle. Once more the hand of Providence24 had appeared strong in their behalf, and they were grateful—too much affected25 to speak of it, except in a subdued26 undertone.
Soon after this “Step Lively” made her banner run of thirty-one miles in one day. Arrived at the busy little city of Lockport, the “Gazelle” began the steep ascent27 of the series of step-like locks to the top of a large hill and the upper level. Five double locks opened one into the other; one series for descent the other for ascent of the hill. Each lock raised or lowered the vessel in it fifteen or twenty feet. It was a splendid piece of engineering that the boys, after their many miles of canal journeying, could fully19 appreciate.
“Say, this is easy,” said Arthur. “Just like going upstairs.”
“Yes; only it’s no work,” suggested Frank.
“It’s like some of the sudden trips I have made upstairs when my father had a grip on the seat of my trousers; that was easy, till afterwards,” and Kenneth rubbed himself reflectively.
Beyond the “lock step”—as Frank facetiously28 called the series of water lifts—the canal was cut out of the solid rock; the walls of stone rising sharply on either side of the water, the tow-path was a mere29 ledge30 cut between the ditch and the embankment. It was a gloomy sort of place, especially since the rain had fallen recently, the rocks were black with dripping water, and the tow-path slippery with mud. The road where “Step Lively” toiled31 along was narrow and several feet above the surface of the water, a strong wind was blowing down the gorge-like cut, and made it hard for the old mare32 to pull the yacht. Frank was driving, and urged the beast along with voice and slap of rein33. All went well until the horse stumbled over a stone, slipped, and, in her struggle to recover her feet, slipped still more, and finally she slid over the edge and plunged34 into the canal with a mighty35 splash.
Frank stood on the bank and hopped36 about like a hen whose chicks have proved to be ducks and have just discovered their native element; he still held on to the reins37, and when the old horse splashed towards the bank pulled with all his might. The sides of the canal were as steep as a wall, and the poor beast could not get the slightest foothold. She gazed at Frank with an appealing eye and struggled valiantly39 to reach dry ground, only to fall back till all but her snorting nose was submerged. “Don’t push, just shove!” cried an unsympathetic looker on.
“Why don’t you put boats on his feet?” suggested another.
Frank was at his wit’s end. He tried in every way to extricate40 the poor beast from its predicament, but since she could not fly it could not be done.
The “Gazelle,” carried on by the impetus41 she still retained, came alongside of the struggling amphibious steed, and Frank threw the reins aboard.
“Well, this beats the Dutch!” Kenneth exclaimed, as the three boys looked helplessly down on the poor beast swimming gamely in her unnatural42 element—a pathetic but ludicrous sight.
“What the deuce shall we do?” Frank did not know whether to laugh or cry, and his face was curiously43 twisted in consequence.
“Well,” said the skipper at last, “I guess the tower will have to be towed till we find a shelving bank and the order can be reversed again.”
All hands seemed to appreciate the humor of the situation except “Step Lively,” and she back-pedalled with all her might. Kenneth and Arthur took the place of the tow-horse on the path, and found it hard work to pull the heavy boat through the water and a refractory44 horse that insisted on swimming backward as hard as she could. As they strained and tugged45, puffed46 and sweated they lost the funny side, and agreed that it was “blamed serious.” At this juncture47 “Step Lively” woke up to the situation, and swam with instead of against her masters, and then all was lovely.
The people the strange procession met were very much amused, and they did not hesitate to make comments.
“Turn about’s fair play, ain’t it?” said one.
“About time the boat towed a while; put her on the path,” said another.
At length a sloping place was reached, and the old horse scrambled48 out. It was hard to tell which was more relieved—at any rate, “Step Lively” took up her regular occupation with alacrity49, and the boys went back on board with a sigh of relief. For fear the faithful old beast would catch cold, she was kept going, and so escaped harm.
At Tonawanda, on the Niagara River, Kenneth sold the horse to a man who contracted to tow them to Buffalo50 and Lake Erie. And so they parted with “Step Lively” for three dollars. She had entirely51 lost her hat-rack appearance, and seemed almost as sorry to leave her young friends as they were to dismiss her.
From Tonawanda the canal followed along the Niagara River. The beautiful, broad stream, smooth and placid52, looked little like the torrent53 a little farther below that rushed madly down the steep incline, and then made that stupendous leap.
“Is this the Niagara River?” one boy asked another. Its calmness was disappointing.
At Buffalo the “Gazelle” entered her native waters once more—on lake water, but still a thousand miles from home.
Twelve days from Troy to Buffalo, three hundred and fifty-two miles—not a bad record considering the one-horse motor.
The boys cast anchor within the shelter of Buffalo’s breakwater October 10, 1899, and looked over the strange, green waters of Lake Erie. They immediately went to work, stepped the masts and set up the rigging for the last stage of their long journey. A thousand miles of lakes stretched between them and old St. Joseph, yet the young voyagers felt that they were almost home. They forgot for a time that the great inland seas were sure to be swept by gales54 that would increase in force and frequency as the season advanced, until the freezing blast closed up navigation altogether, and the waters, now tracked in all directions by vessels55 of every description, would be deserted—left to the howling winds, the grinding cakes of ice, and the screaming gulls56.
It was a serious situation that stared them in the face, did they but realize it. The sharp gales on the lakes were to be dreaded57 even more than the tempest on the ocean, for land, never very far off, surrounded on every hand, and a lee shore was an imminent59 peril60.
A mere zephyr61 toyed with the flag at the “Gazelle’s” masthead as she lay at anchor—too soft to waft62 the yacht a mile an hour—so it was not strange that Kenneth and his crew forgot for a time that the lake, now so calmly sleeping, would soon rise in its anger and lash13 itself into white foam63.
The lack of wind gave the crew an opportunity to visit Niagara Falls, and they took time to drink in a full measure of this most magnificent of Nature’s wonders, a sight that they will remember all their days—the crowning spectacle of their trip.
After a three days’ stay at Buffalo, the breeze sprang up, the boys raised the anchor, and the “Gazelle,” her sails spread to the freshening wind, sped out of harbor and away on the last lap of her race round the Eastern half of the United States.
“Hurrah!” the boys shouted, and, clasping hands, congratulated each other.
The “Gazelle” acted as if she felt that her native waters bore her once more, and skimmed along as lightly as the gulls that circled in the clear, cool air. Straight across the lake she flew, sped by an ever-increasing wind, until the point off the Welland Canal, on the Canadian side, was reached. With a snap characteristic of her, she came about and started off on another tack64, then stopped suddenly with a jar that knocked the boys to their knees. Hard on the rocks! There was not a minute to spare if the good yacht was to be saved. With a spring, Kenneth let go the mainsail halliards, and the slatting sail came down on the run, while Arthur lowered the jib. It was quick work, but these young men had had the training that made them decide rapidly and act effectively.
The sails down, the yacht rested more easily, but still she pounded, the waves dashing her heavily on the cruel ledges65.
SWAYING ON THE HALLIARDS.
“THE SAILS WERE HOISTED66.”
Kenneth jumped overboard, clothes and all, followed by Frank and Arthur. Putting their shoulders to the yawl’s stem, they pushed with might and main. At length the heavy boat moved, and, as in New York Harbor, they pushed, walking after till the yacht floated clear and they had to hold on to keep from sinking. Through the clear water the rocks lurked67 just under the surface in every direction, and only by the most careful man?uvring could the yacht be sailed to safety. The sails were hoisted once more, Kenneth took the helm, and, after a time, Frank and Arthur went below to put on some dry clothes. The October wind blew keen and sharp, the skipper, crouching68 in the stern to present as little surface to it as possible, thought he would freeze to death—his wet clothes stuck to him and the cold wind seemed to go directly to his vitals.
“H-h-h-hurry up!” he shouted to the boys below through his chattering69 teeth. “I-i-i-i’ll sh-sh-shake the boat to p-p-p-pieces if you don’t g-g-g-get a m-m-m-move on.”
By this time the “Gazelle” was clear of all danger, and was coasting over the rollers at splendid speed.
As the day wore on the wind increased in force, and the lake, true to its reputation, was lashed38 into waves both high and short. It was the kind of sea that makes a small boat like the yawl pitch and toss most uncomfortably; but, in spite of it all, she made good speed. With a clear course ahead, though the weather was threatening, Kenneth kept on for Port Stanley, on the Canadian shore. About two-thirty in the morning the skipper calculated that the light marking the harbor they sought should be visible, but not a sign of it could Arthur, on lookout70 duty, see. The skipper, in spite of the tossing sea, shinned the mast, and from its elevation71 caught a glimpse of the gleaming light.
Coming down on deck, he shouted to Frank at the wheel: “We’re over-canvassed; we’ll have to reef down.”
The wind made it hard for him to be heard.
“Reef in this sea? You’re crazy, you can’t do it!”
“We’ve got to do it,” the captain answered. “Art, give us a hand on the mainsail.”
The mate obeyed, and together they crawled forward. Dark as pitch, they had to work by sense of touch alone. Each knew the position of every line, every rope, as he knew the location of his eyes and his mouth, but the choppy sea made it impossible to stand an instant unaided. Arthur gripped the standing72 rigging with his legs as he lowered the mainsail, and Kenneth clung desperately73 to the boom as he began to tie the reef points.
The “Gazelle” jumped and thrashed about like a bucking74 horse, and the darkness enveloped75 everything. Of a sudden, the boat gave an awful lurch76, and Kenneth heard a sudden thump77 against the yacht’s side and all was still. Instantly he missed Arthur—nowhere could he be seen.
“For heaven’s sake, luff—luff!” he cried to Frank. “Art’s overboard.”
The boat shot up into the wind and lay there quivering, while Kenneth, dread58 lying like a weight on his heart, sought for his friend.
“What’s the trouble?” a voice called from the other side of the boat. “Anybody hurt?”
“For heaven’s sake, where are you, Art?”
“Over here. What’s the trouble?”
“My, but I’m glad you’re O. K.! Thought you were overboard, sure.”
“Oh, I guess it was that wooden fender you heard; it went over in that last jump.”
The “Gazelle” went better under her reduced canvas, and reeled off the miles like the steady sea-boat she was.
“Well, we did not see much worse sea on the ocean, did we, boys?” Kenneth had a sort of pride in his native waters, and took satisfaction even in its rough moods.
They were certainly formidable. Short, high, and following one another in quick succession, the waves tossed the yacht about as a man is thrown in a blanket.
Daylight soon came to cheer the young mariners78, and revealed the Canadian shore but a few miles to starboard. At two o’clock in the afternoon the “Gazelle” sailed into Port Stanley. Once safely inside, the wind rose shrieking79, as if enraged80 because the yacht had escaped. For three days they lay at anchor, stormbound—three days that would have been much enjoyed if Kenneth had not been so anxious to go on. Food was plenty and the people kind, but the thought of the terrible winter, whose breath, even now, could be occasionally felt, urged them on and took the edge off their enjoyment81 in the hospitable82 place.
LOOKING FOR PORT STANLEY.
To Rondeau Harbor was a sixty-mile run, and when the “Gazelle” pushed her bowsprit past the protecting point of Port Stanley, it looked as if there would not be wind enough to carry her the distance by nightfall. But a fair breeze soon sprang up, and they sped along at a good pace. The lake seemed to be on its good behavior—ashamed of the temper it had shown for the last three days, perhaps. It took little at that time of year to rouse Old Erie to a howling rage. At five-ten in the afternoon the boys saw that the pleasant mood that had lasted all day was giving way to a very ugly temper, and there were six miles more to cover before shelter could be reached.
“Look at those clouds over there,” said Frank. “We’re going to have a head wind and all sorts of troubles.”
“Sure thing!” echoed Arthur.
“Oh, come off! I’ll bet you four to one we’ll be inside by six o’clock.”
Kenneth saw, too, that there was to be a high wind in the wrong direction.
“Done!” cried Frank and Arthur together. “You’re a chump, Ken3. All those miles with a head wind? I guess nit.”
“You just watch your Uncle Dudley.” The skipper meant to do his level best to win his reckless wager83.
The goal was in plain sight, and Kenneth took his place at the helm, determined84 to be on a line at least with those piers85 by six o’clock. The wind was rising steadily86 and swinging more and more ahead. The yacht, seeming to realize what was expected of her, settled down to her work and slipped off into the eye of the breeze like a witch. Each minute the wind hauled more and more ahead, until the boat, her sheets already closely trimmed, seemed to sail right square into the teeth of it. The gray bulkhead was yet a long way off, and the minutes were slipping by at an alarming rate. Arthur grinned as he called out, “Five-thirty.”
It was a race against time with a vengeance87. More than the settling of a friendly wager was involved. The clouds to the southwest had an ugly look, and the line of dull gray showed against the bright blue straight as if drawn88 by a ruler.
Nearer and nearer they came to “the haven89 where they would be,” but faster and faster flew the minutes.
“Five-forty-five!” Arthur called, clock in hand.
“Can she do it?” Kenneth asked himself. Only fifteen minutes more, and the black edge of the squall so close.
Then the wind died down.
“I told you so!” said Frank, exultingly90.
Kenneth knew that it was but the calm before the storm. “You just wait,” he said; “you haven’t got this cinched yet.”
“Five-fifty!” droned Arthur. “Ten minutes more.”
Kenneth said nothing, but kept a sharp weather eye open for squalls.
“Five-fifty-seven!” called the timekeeper.
Off to port the skipper saw the water scuffed91 up, as if a thousand silvery fishes suddenly sprang up.
“Here she comes,” Kenneth said to himself, “and she’s a hummer!”
All at once the blast struck them.
Whoo!
The “Gazelle” laid over before it till her lee freeboard, high as it was, was buried under, and the water lapped alongside the deckhouse. The boat fairly flew along, great sheets of spray shooting out from her bow, the sails standing stiff as if moulded out of metal. “His Nibs,” towed behind, was almost lost in the smother92 of spray, and her painter stretched out to the larger boat straight and stiff as a steel rod, without a sag93 in it.
My, she was going!
The “Gazelle” was over-canvassed for such a blow, but she could not stop then.
Kenneth sat at the tiller like a jockey on a racing94 horse—his gaze fixed95, his face pale, his muscles tense. Ready to luff and save his boat, if need be, but determined to drive her to the finish if steady canvas and honest manila could stand the strain.
“You can’t do it, Ken!” Frank cried.
“But I will,” he answered grimly. “Arthur, keep your eye on that clock.”
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1
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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puny
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| adj.微不足道的，弱小的 | |
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barge
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| n.平底载货船，驳船 | |
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6
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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lash
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| v.系牢；鞭打；猛烈抨击；n.鞭打；眼睫毛 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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joyful
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| adj.欢乐的，令人欢欣的 | |
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varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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itched
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providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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facetiously
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| adv.爱开玩笑地；滑稽地，爱开玩笑地 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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ledge
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| n.壁架，架状突出物；岩架，岩礁 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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rein
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| n.疆绳，统治，支配；vt.以僵绳控制，统治 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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extricate
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| v.拯救，救出；解脱 | |
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impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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puffed
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| adj.疏松的v.使喷出( puff的过去式和过去分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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juncture
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| n.时刻，关键时刻，紧要关头 | |
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scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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49
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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buffalo
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| n.(北美)野牛；(亚洲)水牛 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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gulls
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| n.鸥( gull的名词复数 )v.欺骗某人( gull的第三人称单数 ) | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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imminent
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| adj.即将发生的，临近的，逼近的 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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zephyr
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| n.和风，微风 | |
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waft
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| v.飘浮，飘荡；n.一股；一阵微风；飘荡 | |
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foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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ledges
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| n.（墙壁，悬崖等）突出的狭长部分( ledge的名词复数 )；（平窄的）壁架；横档；（尤指）窗台 | |
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hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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chattering
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| n. （机器振动发出的）咔嗒声，(鸟等)鸣，啁啾 adj. 喋喋不休的，啾啾声的 动词chatter的现在分词形式 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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bucking
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| v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的现在分词 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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lurch
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| n.突然向前或旁边倒；v.蹒跚而行 | |
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thump
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| v.重击，砰然地响；n.重击，重击声 | |
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mariners
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| 海员，水手（mariner的复数形式） | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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enraged
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| 使暴怒( enrage的过去式和过去分词 )； 歜； 激愤 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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piers
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| n.水上平台( pier的名词复数 )；（常设有娱乐场所的）突堤；柱子；墙墩 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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exultingly
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| 兴高采烈地，得意地 | |
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scuffed
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| v.使磨损( scuff的过去式和过去分词 )；拖着脚走 | |
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smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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sag
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| v.下垂，下跌，消沉；n.下垂，下跌，凹陷，[航海]随风漂流 | |
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racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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