But Ransom2 clung to the helm, and noted3, with an awakening4 of hope, that his boat was increasing her speed. Little by little she gained, and inch by inch she straightened up, in spite of the knock-down blows she got from the blast. Faster and faster she slipped along, the energy of the wind driving her ahead, rather than over. The water was on a line with the rail once more, and the self-bailing valves in the cockpit began to empty it.
Arthur put his knife in his pocket and crouched5 down by the windward rail, while Frank assumed a natural attitude, and began to take a more cheerful view of things.
“Thank God!” exclaimed Kenneth, fervently6. “We’re safe once more.”
“That was the closest call we ever had,” said the mate.
It was some time before the white squall let up, and, when the wind died down, the boys found themselves off Hammond’s Bay life-saving station, and, thankful for the respite7, they headed in for the refuge provided by the Government.
A channel cut through the solid rock led to a little lagoon8, and through this the “Gazelle” was dragged by the good fellows of the station.
It was well that the yacht sought this refuge, for a storm that would have sent the staunch little craft to the bottom lasted three days and held sway over the Lake.
The enforced stay was not irksome in the least, for there were a great many tales to tell and to hear, and the life savers were good fellows.
But with each day’s delay the longing9 for home grew stronger, though it seemed as if the elements deliberately10 conspired11 to hold them back.
After leaving Hammond’s Bay, they went on up the Lake Huron coast. Storm after storm broke over them, adverse12 winds beset13 them, and squalls dogged their wake; but at last they reached the very tip of the Peninsula, and passed through the Straits of Mackinac.
The feeling of exultation14 the sea-worn cruisers felt when the keel of their boat once more ploughed the waters of Lake Michigan is beyond all description. Words could not express the joy and satisfaction they felt.
Before a high gale15 and a nasty sea, the “Gazelle” ran into Little Traverse Bay—the first harbor on the western shore of Michigan. Sailing along the coast, it seemed as if they were almost home; that the bluffs16 of old St. Joe were but a little way off, and that they had but to fire their cannon18 to get an answering salute19 from their friends, the life-saving station men.
Putting in at Old Mission, the boys visited Kenneth’s friends several days, while the storm king reigned20 outside in his royal rage and bluster21.
At every stopping place, all along the line, they received letters, urging them to hurry, for the winter season was so close at hand, when no man may sail on the Lakes. Their people were anxious to have them home. The long, dangerous trip, the frequent lapses22 in the correspondence (enforced, of course, but none the less hard for the watchers at home to bear), the stories of storm and disaster at sea, all combined to wear down the patience and courage of the relatives at home. The long stress of violent weather at the end of a fearfully prolonged journey, had worn on the nerves of the captain and crew also, and they all had a bad attack of homesickness. The longing for home when it is near at hand, but just beyond the reach, is the hardest of all to bear.
A short spell of good weather succeeded the days of storm, and the “Gazelle” sailed out of Old Mission for home. The boys’ friends lined the shore and waved them “God speed,” and the three youngsters afloat answered with a cheer, their faces bright, their hearts aglow24 with anticipation25. They were going Home.
The people ashore26 watched the little vessel27, her white sides and sails gleaming in the morning sun as she slipped off like a live thing, dancing over the short wavelets daintily. They watched till she disappeared behind the point.
Word was sent to St. Joseph that the “Gazelle” was on her way again, and the people of the next port of call were on the lookout28 for her.
All the newspapers of the Western coast towns had printed stories about the three Michigan boys who had circumnavigated the Eastern United States in their Michigan boat, and most of the inhabitants of these towns were familiar with the story, and took pride in the achievement.
The “Gazelle” had hardly been out of Old Mission six hours when a storm rose that speedily developed into a hurricane. Vessels29 of every kind sought harbor—steamships, schooners30, whalebacks, every sort of craft—hurried for shelter; but no word was brought of the little yawl. She was not reported; no one had seen her since she had sailed so jauntily31 out of Old Mission harbor. The papers were full of the havoc32 wrought33, of the shipping34 damaged, and lists and estimates of the value of the property destroyed by the tempest were published; but no mention was made of the “Gazelle”—neither in the list of vessels lost or vessels saved did her name appear.
Frantic35 with anxiety, the parents of the crew sent telegrams along the Michigan and Wisconsin coasts on both sides of the Lake, asking for news. Then the papers began to take it up, and in large type they printed:
“WHERE IS THE ‘GAZELLE’?”
“STILL NO NEWS OF THE MISSING YAWL.”
One stormy morning, after the newspapers had been printing headlines like:
“‘GAZELLE’ UNDOUBTEDLY36 LOST,”
the lookout at Manistee life-saving station saw a small vessel, closely reefed, scudding37 across the angry seas like a gull38.
The lookout called to his mate: “What do you make her out to be?” The other shielded his eyes from the sharp blasts of the spray.
“Yawl rigged, twenty-five or thirty feet, carrying jib and jigger. Looks like she had only three men aboard—never saw her before.”
“Yawl rigged, you say?” The first life-saver stopped to look. “Thirty feet—sure, that’s her. Do you know what that is?” He turned excitedly to the other. “Why, that’s the ‘Gazelle.’ Been round the United States pretty near. Papers are full of it.”
Soon the news was flashed from town to town that the “Gazelle” was safe. The houses of gloom in St. Joseph brightened, and eyes dimmed with tears sparkled with joy. Soon the “Gazelle” herself flew into port and dropped anchor safe and sound.
The people of Manistee turned out to do the young sailors honor.
Again, as if by miracle, the staunch boat had triumphed over the elements. With two anchors down, and several improvised39 ones out, she had ridden the terrific gale safely.
Next day the little ship started out again, feverishly40 impatient to get home. Kenneth waited only long enough for the wind to die down a little and to get some very badly needed sleep.
With gales41 before them, behind them, battling with them from every side, the dogged crew kept on, ever heading southward.
Late one day, each of the three families received a telegram that thrilled them. “At South Haven42. All well!” it read. Only twenty miles away now!
It was over a year since the “Gazelle,” her colors flying, her unstained sails showing white, had sailed out of St. Joseph harbor, and yet, in spite of their eagerness to get home, in spite of the yearning43 of their parents to have them home, they must needs spend a day in fixing up. Kenneth was determined44 to have his vessel look well when he entered the home port.
But, alas45! with only twenty miles of the seven thousand to go, it seemed as if they were doomed46 to wait yet another day. A gale was blowing, and the rollers dashed themselves to spume against the bulkheads protecting the harbor.
“You can’t do it,” the life-savers told the captain. “You’ll never get between those breakwaters alive in this wind.”
“Yes, we will.” Kenneth’s mind was made up. A spirit of reckless daring took possession of him, and he could and would get to St. Joseph that day.
“We’ll do it, won’t we, boys?” Kenneth turned to the crew that had never failed him.
“Sure!” was the laconic47, but all-sufficient answer.
“Shake!” said the captain, and they gripped firm hands all around.
“Put in a single reef in the main,” the captain ordered, “and hoist48 away.”
The boys looked at him a bit doubtfully, but obeyed without a word. The jigger set, the anchor was hauled aboard and the jib halliards made taut49.
Slowly she began to make headway, her sails filled, and, heeling gracefully50 to the wind, she headed for the narrow way between the breakwaters.
People ashore shouted and cheered, and the boys acknowledged the salute by waving their caps on high.
“Hurrah, for the last twenty miles!” Kenneth shouted suddenly, then settled himself for the struggle to come.
It was a dead beat out to the open lake through the three-hundred-foot-wide channel between the long piers51. The wind blew so hard that the spray obscured the piers from sight at times, and it seemed impossible that any vessel propelled by sails could make way against it.
Kenneth planned to clear the south pier52 with the first long tack23. As the yacht sped down towards the opening to the lake—choked as it was with the smothering53 seas—he realized that he had undertaken a very hazardous55 thing—realized that failure to clear the breakwater on that tack would mean instant destruction against the bulkhead.
As they came nearer and nearer the rock-ballasted spiles, Kenneth noticed that his boat was not pointing as high up into the wind as usual, and that no matter how hard he jammed the helm over, she would not head right. Instead of making the long angle that would bring her clear of the end, the “Gazelle” was heading, in spite of all her skipper could do, twenty feet in. The yacht acted queerly, but was making tremendous speed. Nearer and nearer she came to the spiles partly obscured by the spray; nearer and nearer, till the very slap and hiss56 of the waves against them was heard.
The “Gazelle” was pointed57 straight at a group of logs some twenty feet from the end. Kenneth was puzzled and worried, almost frantic, indeed—never had his boat acted in this way before.
Despairingly he looked across at the rapidly narrowing strip of foam58-flecked water, when his quick eye caught a glimpse of the jib sheet caught on the bitts.
“The jib sheet is fouled59. Quick, clear it! Lively now, boys!”
In an instant it was done. The sail flew out to its rightful position, and the “Gazelle,” like a racehorse that has been pulled in too much, bounded forward, straight for the end of the pier. In a smother54 of foam, amid a swirl60 of angry waters, the good yacht dashed into the open lake, missing the end of the pier by a bare yard.
Kenneth could not hear the cheer that rose from the hundred throats ashore, but he could feel it, and he was grateful.
A little over two hours later, the straining eyes of three boys aboard a little yacht caught sight, through the mist and spray, of a white tower on a high bluff17, and the words “There it is!” passed from mouth to mouth. A little later, and a fringe of people could be made out on the top of the bluff, and some yellow-clad figures on the end of the long breakwater, where the life-savers took their stand.
There was moisture in the boys’ eyes that could not come from the spray, for it was salt, and a lump in their throats that would not down.
Suddenly there was a movement among the figures on the beach, a ripple61 in the long line bordering the bluff. A flash of white showed here and there. In three places along the line bits of color waved—red, and blue and yellow—and the eyes that watched so eagerly for those colors, dimmed so that only a blur62 was left.
The yacht was sailing gallantly—speeding over the whitecaps in a way that rejoiced her builder’s heart. The Stars and Stripes, made by loving hands, once bright and lustrous63, now dim but glorious, spread out flat by the gale.
Nearer she came to the harbor entrance—nearer to her home port. The faint sound of people cheering came over the seething64 sea to the home-coming trio. The steadfast65 colors waved, and the steadfast hearts answered each other across the water.
Kenneth headed as if to cross the harbor’s mouth. Past the long pier the “Gazelle” flashed, and it seemed as if the boys could hear the people groan66. A little beyond, Kenneth put her helm down, and she spun67 round on her heel, heading straight for the inner basin. With sheets eased, the water boiling at her bow, the waves flowing swiftly alongside, every stitch drawing, every fibre in the rigging straining, the “Gazelle” raced with the flying spray into port. Her crew, exhilarated, thankful, jubilant, could hear nothing but the cheers of their friends, while the brave bits of color waved them a welcome that had been waiting a long year—the best welcome of all.
THE END
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1
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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awakening
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| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
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crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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respite
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| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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lagoon
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| n.泻湖，咸水湖 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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12
adverse
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| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
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beset
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| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
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exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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bluffs
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| 恐吓( bluff的名词复数 )； 悬崖； 峭壁 | |
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bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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salute
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| vi.行礼，致意，问候，放礼炮；vt.向…致意，迎接，赞扬；n.招呼，敬礼，礼炮 | |
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reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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bluster
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| v.猛刮；怒冲冲的说；n.吓唬，怒号；狂风声 | |
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22
lapses
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| n.失误，过失( lapse的名词复数 )；小毛病；行为失检；偏离正道v.退步( lapse的第三人称单数 )；陷入；倒退；丧失 | |
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23
tack
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| n.大头钉；假缝，粗缝 | |
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aglow
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| adj.发亮的；发红的；adv.发亮地 | |
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anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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ashore
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| adv.在(向)岸上，上岸 | |
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27
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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29
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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schooners
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| n.（有两个以上桅杆的）纵帆船( schooner的名词复数 ) | |
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jauntily
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| adv.心满意足地；洋洋得意地；高兴地；活泼地 | |
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havoc
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| n.大破坏，浩劫，大混乱，大杂乱 | |
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wrought
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| v.引起；以…原料制作；运转；adj.制造的 | |
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shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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scudding
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| n.刮面v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的现在分词 ) | |
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38
gull
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| n.鸥；受骗的人；v.欺诈 | |
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improvised
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| a.即席而作的,即兴的 | |
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40
feverishly
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| adv. 兴奋地 | |
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gales
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| 龙猫 | |
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42
haven
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| n.安全的地方，避难所，庇护所 | |
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43
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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45
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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46
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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47
laconic
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| adj.简洁的；精练的 | |
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48
hoist
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| n.升高，起重机，推动；v.升起，升高，举起 | |
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49
taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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50
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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51
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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52
pier
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| n.码头；桥墩，桥柱；[建]窗间壁，支柱 | |
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53
smothering
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的现在分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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54
smother
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| vt./vi.使窒息；抑制；闷死；n.浓烟；窒息 | |
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55
hazardous
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| adj.(有)危险的，冒险的；碰运气的 | |
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56
hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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57
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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58
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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59
fouled
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| v.使污秽( foul的过去式和过去分词 )；弄脏；击球出界；（通常用废物）弄脏 | |
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60
swirl
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| v.(使)打漩，(使)涡卷；n.漩涡，螺旋形 | |
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61
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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62
blur
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| n.模糊不清的事物；vt.使模糊，使看不清楚 | |
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63
lustrous
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| adj.有光泽的；光辉的 | |
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64
seething
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| 沸腾的，火热的 | |
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65
steadfast
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| adj.固定的，不变的，不动摇的；忠实的；坚贞不移的 | |
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66
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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67
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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