CHAPTER III
“ALL ABOARD!”
Time did, indeed, seem to move with exasperating slowness. None of the impatient boys slept very well that night, and each arose next morning almost with the sun.
At an early hour, a group had assembled on the ordinarily deserted wharf. There were, of course, all the boys, Mr. John Lyons, Sr., Mr. George Somers, Bob’s father, little Bobby Lyons, Jack’s brother, and Mr. Montague Winter, besides other near and distant relatives.
Mr. Lyons, jolly and smiling, examined every corner of the boat, gave bits of useful advice, and sought to allay the fears of Mr. Winter.
“I don’t consider it a very safe trip,” exclaimed the latter, nervously. “There is danger of their being run down by the big boats.”
“But, my dear sir, they have eyes to look out for such dangers.”
“Then, again, the Hudson is no mill-pond, and in case of storms——”
“Depend upon it, the boys will be safely anchored near shore,” laughed Mr. Lyons. “Jack has promised me to be careful.”
“They will have to stop over night in some pretty lonely localities, and rough characters may molest them.”
Mr. Somers smiled.
“I do not think you need have any fears, Mr. Winter,” he said, reassuringly. “Jack and his friends are old enough to look out for themselves, Bob is used to boats, and a trip of this sort should do them a world of good.”
“Let us hope so, at any rate,” said Fred’s father, still a trifle nervously.
The seven boys were dressed for solid comfort, and had brought with them boots, leggins and sweaters. The first flush of excitement over, it was noticed that Fred Winter wore a broad-brimmed felt hat of uncertain age.
“I say——” whispered Joe. “Why?”
“I’m not going to get my face burned to a blister—that’s why. You’ll catch it from the sun and reflections in the water. Better chuck those caps away, and——”
“Oh, that peaches and cream complexion!” gurgled Joe.
The supreme moment had come. The near and distant relatives poured forth a steady stream of advice and admonition. Several curious loungers, all wearing broad grins, added a word now and then, and the boys had their own troubles in trying to hear as little as possible.
“All aboard!” commanded Jack.
At last the captain of the house-boat was actually casting off the lines.
Little Bobby Lyons almost danced with excitement.
“Jack, Jack—don’t forget that letter you’re going to send me,” he called. “And, Jack, be sure to—oh, dear, there’s something else I wanted to say to you, and—I can’t think of it.”
“Send a message by wireless,” laughed Joe. “Everything clear, Jack? That’s good! Now start ’er going.”
“Looks like Miles Standish’s cabin,” remarked a bystander.
“Them there lads has plenty of go,” said another.
“That’s more’n the boat will ever have,” grinned a third.
It was an interesting moment. Captain Jack’s hand rested on the fly-wheel, and he looked at his chums.
“Quick, give it a turn!” cried Joe, with suspense in his tone.
Jack obeyed, and a series of rapid reports immediately followed, bringing forth a round of cheers.
No music could have sounded sweeter to the boys than the chug-chug which was carried away on the breeze.
As the house-boat slowly swung out into the stream, the seven shouted again. Good-byes shot back and forth; Mr. Lyons, Mr. Somers and Mr. Winter waved their hands; the loungers shouted and laughed—the voyage was begun.
“Isn’t this immense?” said Jack, gleefully, as he turned on full power. “Bet some of those chaps on the wharf wish they weregoing. What’s that, Joe? Sure, we’ll cross the Hudson—get right over to the Jersey side. Keep your eyes open, fellows,—we don’t want to sink any steamers.”
“Keep a sharp watch for icebergs,” said Bob. “Remember the ‘Titanic.’”
“Look at the land skipping by,” cried Fred. “Bet we’re going all of three miles an hour.”
The blue water lapped and gurgled against the boat, and a gentle breeze tempered the heat. White clouds were slowly passing across the sky, and shadows chased each other over land and water. To their left rose Washington Heights, and to the right another ridge of hills was outlined against the sky. Houses dotted the landscape, and smoke stained and streaked the horizon.
“Ja-ck, Jaa-ck!” came floating over the air; “Jaaa-ck!”
“What’s up now?” cried Jack. “Wonder what little Bobby wants.”
“Ja-a-a-ck,—Ja-a-a-a-ck!”
“Better swing around, and see,” counseled Bob Somers.
“Ja-a-a-a-ck, Ja-a-a-a-a-ck!”
“Whee, what a howl!” said Aleck.
“Settles it, anyway,” laughed Jack, as he followed Bob’s advice.
Laboriously the “Gray Gull” began to turn around, and was finally headed for the wharf. The figures on it began to grow more distinct.
Then came Bobby’s shrill voice again:
“Jack, I remember now what I wanted—send me some picture postal cards.”
And Joe slapped Jack on the back; and Jack laughed heartily, and yelled back, “All right, Bobby!” And again the course of the “Gray Gull” was changed, and soon the wharf and the figures grew faint again.
Keeping close inshore, the “Gray Gull” was often rocked by the long swells from passing craft. The Harlem River presented quite a busy scene, although they were beyond the portion where the traffic is greatest.
Occasionally, they were hailed from the deck of some barge or schooner, and the occupants of a motor boat speeding swiftly by gave a series of derisive yells. But the boys only laughed, and waved their hands, feeling that they wouldn’t exchange the “Gray Gull” for all the gasoline launches in New York.
Joe, sweeping the landscape with Dave’stelescope, uttered so many exclamations of surprise and pleasure that Aleck promptly wrested the glass from his hands.
“Where, which and what?” he asked.
“All three, kind sir,” answered Joe. “But that electric car on Washington Heights looms up strangely large. Somebody on it just dropped a coin.”
Aleck looked rather puzzled, that is until the speaker added, “Hurry up and see if he finds it. Looked to me like a nickel of the year twelve hundred and six.”
Aleck Hunt raised the glass to his eyes.
“Hey! Did you ever see such a wobble?” he exclaimed. “Wouldn’t like to be on a car swinging around like that. This glass makes my arms ache, too; and it’s all out of focus. Want it back?”
“Yes,” said Joe, incautiously.
“Then you can’t have it,” returned Aleck, as he once more raised the telescope.
“Better keep her out a bit, Cap’n Jack,” yelled Joe Preston. “Unless you want to climb the hill.”
And Jack, becoming a little bolder, swung the “Gray Gull” further out into the stream.Fred presently relieved him at the tiller. Then the others took their turns.
On the “promenade deck,” as Jack soon christened it, Confuse-us, feeling no doubt that the occasion was one of great importance, ambled from side to side, gazing curiously at the lapping water which splashed and gurgled so close beneath his nose.
Time passed quickly, each moment bringing something to attract their attention.
“Brick barges from Haverstraw,” announced Jack, presently, as a tug, moving at a snail’s pace, puffed laboriously along. A column of inky smoke swirled aloft, leaving a long trail to slowly dissipate itself in the clear atmosphere above, while jets of steam gleamed in the sunlight. Each of the clumsy barges was loaded high with bricks, and seemed reluctant to follow the valiant little tug.
As the morning advanced, the breeze slightly increased; the white clouds grew thicker, piling themselves up into great rounded masses, and the swift changes over the landscape, from glancing light to fleeting shadow, were pleasing to look upon.
“Cap’n Jack,” remarked Joe, suddenly,“are we going to stop for lunch, or eat it on the wide waste of water?”
“No stops till the Jersey shore is reached,” answered Jack Lyons, decidedly.
“Right you are,” said Fred. “Joe is always thinking of meal-time. But, please, Aleck, trot out the sardines and crackers, the cheese and home-made pickles, the pound cake and everything else we have.”
And Aleck did. So all but Jack sat on deck and talked and ate, and idly watched the water foaming and bubbling away from the stern, while Confuse-us, fully alive to the occasion, trotted from one to another, and, with plaintive wails, begged for his share of the good things.
Finally, an indignant voice came from Jack, at the tiller.
“Say, do you fellows intend to eat all that grub?” he demanded.
The others looked at each other rather guiltily and meekly said that they didn’t. But each waited for the other to get up, and not until Joe, Aleck and Tom were forcibly ousted from their position did Jack come in for his own.
“Sure as guns, we’re getting near the Hudson,” remarked Fred, an hour later. “It’s right around that bend.”
“Can’t get there too soon for me,” said Aleck. “And—and——” He drew a long breath.
“And what?” asked Joe.
“I won’t be sorry to get across. It’s pretty wide, you know, and this floating log cabin is a good mark for——”
“Ha, ha! Aleck’s getting scared already,” laughed Joe.
“I am not, and——”
“Hello, boys—the Hudson!”
Jack’s voice rang out cheerily, as he peered ahead and caught a glimpse of a broad expanse of water, framed in by a wall of frowning cliffs on the Jersey shore.
“And just think,” said Fred, in a reflective tone, as he pointed toward a tree-covered slope on the left, “that’s the end of Manhattan Island, one of the most remarkable places in the world.”
“Got that sentence out of a book, didn’t you?” inquired Dave with a smile.
Slowly, the “Gray Gull” chugged its waytoward the greater river. The boys looked eagerly about them. At the point of junction, the Harlem is spanned by a railroad bridge, and just as the house-boat reached it a heavy freight train rumbled overhead.
“Glad I’m not on it,” observed Tommy Clifton, with a wink. “Must be fierce to go poking along like that.”
“Gee whiz, doesn’t the Hudson look wide!” exclaimed Jack, shading his eyes. “Lots of boats to steer clear of, too. What’s that, Bob? All the power is on, my boy. We can’t go any faster, unless you get out and push.”
Gradually the house-boat drew away from the hills on either hand, and was headed directly across the river. The sunlight, streaming between a break in the clouds, reflected in the water, which the freshening breeze had kicked up into choppy waves. They tumbled against the sides of the craft with a strange, melancholy swish. Now and then shining drops splashed over the bow, and Confuse-us hastily retired within.
“Looks an awful distance across,” remarked Jack, again.
“We’re so close to the water—that’s why,” said Dave Brandon. “But doesn’t it seem lonely out here, fellows?”
“And take a squint at those sea-gulls,” added Joe, pointing toward a flock of birds circling above.
The Hudson greatly impressed the boys with its vastness. The river, viewed from a height of only a few feet, presented a very different picture from the one so familiar to passengers on excursion and ferry-boats.
A vague sense of danger stole over the occupants of the house-boat. The little craft rocked gently, and they could well imagine how, in case of a squall, it would be at the mercy of the foam-crested waves. However, such thoughts soon vanished. The smell of the water was pleasant, and the boys, leaning comfortably against the side of the boat, sniffed the air with keen pleasure.
Straight ahead, a big, lumbering schooner slowly made its way down the river, the breeze being just sufficient to fill out her dingy gray sails. Shouts and commands reached their ears with astonishing clearness, even above the steady chug-chug of the motor.
“Nice mess we’d be in, if the engine should break down,” remarked Aleck.
“If anything is going to happen, now’s the time,” said Tom. “We’re just about in the middle of the river.”
A big excursion steamer was passing astern. Many passengers, crowding to the rails, watched the house-boat with every evidence of interest. Several waved their hands and shouted, and the boys answered with yells and whistles and all the noise of which they were capable, until the boat began to rock and wobble on the heavy swells.
“Thunderation!” exclaimed Joe, loudly.
His stool had flown from under him; and Joe, wildly grasping at the empty air, sprawled full length on the deck, and but for Dave’s prompt assistance would have rolled into the river.
“Jiminy!” panted the boy, picking himself up, rather red and confused.
“Came near being a good cold bath for one,” grinned Aleck. And all laughed but the victim.
The bold, rocky forms of the Palisades began to stand out clearly. At their base andpart way up the slope were masses of trees and vegetation; but the general appearance was that of an almost vertical wall, now glistening in the sunlight, then deep in shadow. The cliffs looked so big and grand that all were impressed.
“I tell you what,” remarked Jack, after a long survey, “it’s a mighty good thing the quarrymen were stopped from blasting those rocks. I heard father say they were doing enormous damage, and spoiling the——”
“Natural beauty of the scene,” suggested Joe.
“That’s it. A whole lot of people got together after a while and persuaded the authorities to make a big slice of the Palisades into a public park. It’s dandy up there.”
Numbers of swift motor boats were going up and down, and the sound of rapid pulsations filled the air. Along the shore, at intervals, the white tents of campers-out flashed between the trees; and streamers of bluish smoke floated slowly in front of the rocks. It was a picturesque and beautiful scene.
When about three hundred feet from shore,Jack changed his course, heading up the river.
The “Gray Gull” attracted considerable attention; the campers-out gathered at the water’s edge, and their yells were answered with interest; the occupants of passing motor boats beamed upon them with kindly condescension.
“Those fellows think they’re the biggest things on the river,” grinned Joe; “but give me the ‘Gray Gull’ every time.”
“Me, too,” said Tom. “Plenty of room to move around in, and all the comforts of home.”
“Swell, eh?” said Aleck.
“That’s the word for it,” answered Joe. “Dandy place to camp, over there; but if we want to reach Albany before the summer’s over, we can’t do much of that.”
“One thing is going to help us, though,” put in Fred.
“What’s that?”
“The tide.”
“Why, yes—so it will; and keep us back, too, when it’s running out.”
“Not if we time our stops the way we ought to.”
“If you fellows wish, I can figure out just how it changes. I think there’s about an hour’s difference every day.”
“That’s knowledge for you,” laughed Jack. “Don’t wonder you wear glasses, and forget to smile at times, old chap.”
“It’s one of the terrible effects of deep thought,” grinned Joe. “But still, I should say so much brain work isn’t necessary just now. We’ll drop in a string—if it floats down—well—it follows——”
“The tide,” said Jack.
“Aristotle would have envied such reasoning as that,” laughed Dave Brandon. “What a relief to know that the weighty problem is settled.”
Becoming emboldened by the ease with which he handled the “Gray Gull,” Jack decided to venture further out into the stream.
For half an hour they had kept their course, when Fred Winter adjusted his glasses, and, looking straight ahead, exclaimed:
“That tug is coming along mighty fast; which side do you suppose it will pass?”
“H’m,” said Jack, rather doubtfully, “they must look out for themselves.”
Two short, sharp whistles suddenly sounded; and the boys looked at each other and the swiftly approaching tug in some apprehension.
“What does that signal mean?” asked Fred, nervously.
No one answered; Jack seemed puzzled; but something had to be done quickly, as the “Gray Gull” was almost directly in line. With a quick movement, he steered to starboard, just as the tug swung to port.
“Gee whiz!” yelled Joe, excitedly. “We’re going to get smashed to bits.”
A chorus of exclamations rang out, blending in with another sharp signal from the tug.
“What’s to be done?” gasped Aleck Hunt, in dismay.
It was a moment of great excitement. None understood the commands which were hurled over the air; it seemed as if nothing could prevent the two craft from coming together. The dismayed boys stood almost motionless, while the black hull cut swiftly toward them.
Suddenly Jack Lyons, realizing what wasto be done, swung the tiller far around; quick action of those on the tug sent its prow outward.
“Great Scott!” breathed Jack.
So close that his hand outstretched could have touched it, the tug passed abreast; then the “Gray Gull” began to bob up and down on the waves.
The engine of the “Gray Gull” had been reversed, and it was coming to a stop.
“That was a narrow escape,” cried Bob.
“I should say so,” said Jack, in shaky tones.
“Hey! What’s the matter with you fellers?”
A grizzly, weather-beaten man leaning over the rail of the tug was glaring sternly toward them.
“Don’t you know anything about river signals?” demanded the other, sharply.
“No—that is——” began Jack, in some confusion.
“I thought so,” said the captain, grimly. Then, as his eyes took in the pleasing appearance of the lads, his tone softened. “Yer want ter l’arn ’em, young fellers,” he counseled.“It’s risky enough on the water without not havin’ no knowledge o’ them things. Stick what I’m goin’ ter tell yer in them noddles of yourn; an’ don’t let it git out—understand?”
“Yes, yes!” chorused his hearers.
“Wal, one short whistle means we’re goin’ ter starboard; two of ’em says steerin’ ter port; and three, engine is reversed. Don’t forgit it, now.”
“No siree; we’ll write it down,” said Jack. “Jolly well obliged to you, sir.”
“That’s all right, young feller. Whar’ are ye bound?”
“To Albany.”
The captain guffawed loudly; and several of his crew laughed, also.
“Wal, mebbe ye’ll git thar this year, an’ mebbe ye won’t,” he said. “Good v’y’ge an’ pleasant weather!” And, with a wave of his big hand, the captain turned away, for the tug “Juno” was again in motion.
“Dandy fellow, that,” commented Jack. “We’ve learned something, too.”
“But nearly had our trip ended before it was begun,” added Dave.
The late afternoon found them opposite Yonkers. Factories lined the water-front; and the town, rising on a hill beyond and bathed in a mellow glow, formed a picturesque background.
“Let’s anchor here,” said Jack. “Tide’s running in fast; but we don’t need to get excited about it.”
“That’s right,” said Joe. “Grub time can’t be made to wait for anything less than an earthquake or cyclone.”
“I’ll cook to-night,” went on Jack. “Your turn to-morrow, Joe. Scat, Confuse-us! What’s that, Joe? Do you want a menu card? I’ll write one out, and——”
“Oh, hang the ‘me knew’ card, you silly amateur pirate,” said Joe. “If me knew, I wouldn’t have asked. Tell us gently what it’s going to be.”
“Sing it to him,” grinned Aleck. “Say, that’s a nice little launch coming across.”
“It’s the ferry,” explained Jack, with an air of superior wisdom. “Runs between Yonkers and this big pile of rocks,—been on it often.”
The “Gray Gull” was run nearer theshore; then Jack shut off power, and, a minute later, the anchor was heaved overboard and disappeared with a tremendous splash in the rippling water.
Deep shadows were soon stealing over the landscape; and the towering crags outlined themselves against golden clouds and pearly green sky.
When dusk came, Jack lighted the lanterns.
“I know one thing about this river business, anyway,” he remarked.
“Surprised to hear it,” said Joe, cheerfully.
“If I didn’t want to show my knowledge, I wouldn’t tell you, after that,” laughed Jack. “This green light goes on the starboard side, red on the port, and white placed forward.”
“Looks fine,” commented Tom Clifton when the lanterns were in position. “Makes me feel like a real mariner.”
When the lantern which hung from the middle of the ceiling had been lighted, the interior of the house-boat seemed doubly attractive.
Jack proved himself to be a good chef; and the others praised his cooking with an earnestness that amounted to enthusiasm.
After supper, it was voted too late to go ashore; but Bob Somers’ suggestion that the voyage be continued was acted upon, in spite of a protest from Fred.
“Oh, sugar!” he said. “Why not let’s read? I brought some dandy books along; but who in the dickens could enjoy ’em with that engine making such a thundering racket?”
“Oh, bother your old books,” said Joe. “I’ve got something better than that.”
“What?”
“I’m going to write a history of the trip.”
“Goodness; my job as historian is threatened,” murmured Dave.
“Gee whiz! A history of the trip?”
“Certainly! Why not?”
“Begin to-night, eh?”
“No—to-morrow.”
“Oh, oh!”
And the rest began to chuckle and gurgle, and Joe scornfully walked out on the promenade deck, closely followed by Confuse-us.
The moon shone brightly, and a cool, refreshing breeze came from the west. Masses of clouds, now gray and solemn-looking, rested in the rapidly darkening sky. Yonkers wasaglow with lights. Singly and in clusters, they flashed from the line of hills and along the water-front. As Joe sat down, he heard the whistle of a locomotive and saw one of the New York Central trains skirting the river. At the base of the Palisades, a lone camp-fire spurted tongues of flame against the gloom beyond, and the sighing breeze brought with it the sound of voices.
“Up anchor, fellows,” commanded Captain Jack. “Guess we can make a mile or two.”
Willing hands seized the chain, and, with a rattle and bang and lots of unnecessary noise, the anchor was dragged aboard.
“Great difference between the night and day,” remarked Aleck.
“You bet—it’s darker,” said Tom, with a grin.
“If I weren’t jealous of such brilliant conversation, I’d help it along by asking which is darker?” observed Fred Winter. “Say, you chaps certainly do waste a lot of words over nothing.”
“Correct,” put in Joe, “and here’s another sample. Kind o’ queer-looking on the river—pretty black, at times, I guess. Neverstruck me before how hard it must be to pilot a big steamer on a pitch dark night.”
“Don’t think I should care to try it,” said Fred, with a slight shiver.
A bit out, the waves were choppy, and the dory at the stern bobbed merrily up and down. The moon played hide-and-seek with the silver-edged clouds, and threw a strange, weird light over the landscape.
“Guess I’ll tell you that story I heard now, fellows,” remarked Aleck Hunt. “Say, Jack, you know Joe Archer, the chap who played short-stop on our baseball team—well——”
“Hello, what’s the matter?” interrupted Jack.
The pulsations of the motor had suddenly ceased.