Lost in the Fog

II.

First Sight of a Place destined to be better known.—A Fog Mill.—Navigation without Wind.—Fishing.—Boarding.—Under Arrest.—Captain Corbet defiant.—The Revenue Officials frowned down.—Corbet triumphant.

The Antelope had left the wharf at about seven in the morning. It was now one o'clock. For the last two or three hours there had been but little wind, and it was the tide which had carried her along. Drifting on in this way, they had come to within a mile of Ile Haute, and had an opportunity of inspecting the place which Tom had declared to be so gloomy. In truth, Tom's judgment was not undeserved. Ile Haute arose like a solid, unbroken rock out of the deep waters of the Bay of Fundy, its sides precipitous, and scarred by tempest, and shattered by frost. On its summit were trees, at its base lay masses of rock that had fallen. The low tide disclosed here, as at the base of Blomidon, a vast growth of black sea-weed, which covered all that rocky shore. The upper end of the island, which was nearest them, was lower, however, and went down sloping to the shore, forming a place where a landing could easily be effected. From this shore mud flats extended into the water.

"This end looks as though it had been cleared," said Bart.

"I believe it was," said the captain.

"Does anybody live here?"

"No."

"Did any one ever live here?"

"Yes, once, some one tried it, I believe, but gave it up."

"Does it belong to anybody, or is it public property?"

"O, I dare say it belongs to somebody, if you could only get him to claim it."

"I say, captain," said Bruce, "how much longer are we going to drift?"

"O, not much longer. The tide's about on the turn, and we'll have a leetle change."

"What! will we drift back again?"

"O, I shouldn't wonder if we had a leetle wind afore long."

"But if we don't, will we drift back again into the Basin of Minas?"

"O, dear, no. We can anchor hereabouts somewhar."

"You won't anchor by this island,—will you?"

"O, dear, no. We'll have a leetle driftin first." As the captain spoke, he looked earnestly out upon the water.

"Thar she comes," he cried at last, pointing over the water. The boys looked, and saw the surface of the bay all rippled over. They knew the signs of wind, and waited for the result. Soon a faint puff came up the bay, which filled the languid sails, and another puff came up more strongly, and yet another, until at length a moderate breeze was blowing. The tide no longer dragged them on. It was on the turn; and as the vessel caught the wind, it yielded to the impetus, and moved through the water, heading across the bay towards the New Brunswick shore, in such a line as to pass near to that cape which has already been spoken of.

"If the wind holds out," said Captain Corbet, "so as to carry us past Cape d'Or, we can drift up with this tide."

"Where's Cape d'Or?"

"That there," said Captain Corbet, pointing to the long cape which stretched between them and the New Brunswick shore. "An if it goes down, an we can't get by the cape, we'll be able, at any rate, to drop anchor there, an hold on till the next tide."

The returning tide, and the fresh breeze that blew now, bore them onward rapidly, and they soon approached Cape d'Or. They saw that it terminated in a rocky cliff, with rocky edges jutting forth, and that all the country adjoining was wild and rugged. But the wind, having done this much for them, now began to seem tired of favoring them, and once more fell off.

"I don't like this," said Captain Corbet, looking around.

"What?"

"All this here," said he, pointing to the shore.

It was about a mile away, and the schooner, borne along now by the tide, was slowly drifting on to an unpleasant proximity to the rocky shore.

"I guess we've got to anchor," said Captain Corbet; "there's no help for it."

"To anchor?" said Bruce, in a tone of disappointment.

"Yes, anchor; we've got to do it," repeated the captain, in a decided tone. The boys saw that there was no help for it, for the vessel was every moment drawing in closer to the rocks; and though it would not have been very dangerous for her to run ashore in that calm water, yet it would not have been pleasant. So they suppressed their disappointment, and in a few minutes the anchor was down, and the schooner's progress was stopped.

"Thar's one secret," said the captain, "of navigatin in these here waters, an that is, to use your anchor. My last anchor I used for nigh on thirty year, till it got cracked. I mayn't be much on land, but put me anywhars on old Fundy, an I'm to hum. I know every current on these here waters, an can foller my nose through the thickest fog that they ever ground out at old Manan."

"What's that?" asked Bart. "What did you say about grinding out fog?"

"O, nothin, ony thar's an island down the bay, you know, called Grand Manan, an seafarin men say that they've got a fog mill down thar, whar they grind out all the fog for the Bay of Fundy. I can't say as ever I've seen that thar mill, but I've allus found the fog so mighty thick down thar that I think thar's a good deal in the story."

"I suppose we'll lose this tide," said Phil.

"Yes, I'm afeard so," said the captain, looking around over the water. "This here wind ain't much, any way; you never can reckon on winds in this bay. I don't care much about them. I'd a most just as soon go about the bay without sails as with them. What I brag on is the tides, an a jodgmatical use of the anchor."

"You're not in earnest?"

"Course I am."

"Could you get to St. John from Grand Pre without sails?"

"Course I could."

"I don't see how you could manage to do it."

"Do it? Easy enough," said the captain. "You see I'd leave with the ebb tide, and get out into the bay. Then I'd anchor an wait till the next ebb, an so on. Bless your hearts, I've often done it."

"But you couldn't get across the bay by drifting."

"Course I could. I'd work my way by short drifts over as far as this, an then I'd gradually move along till I kine o' canted over to the New Brunswick shore. It takes time to do it, course it does; but what I mean to say is this—it CAN be done."

"Well, I wouldn't like to be on board while you were trying to do it."

"Mebbe not. I ain't invitin you to do it, either. All I was sayin is, it CAN be done. Sails air very good in their way, course they air, an who's objectin to 'em? I'm only sayin that in this here bay thar's things that's more important than sails, by a long chalk—such as tides, an anchors in particular. Give me them thar, an I don't care a hooter what wind thar is."

Lying thus at anchor, under the hot sun, was soon found to be rather dull, and the boys sought in vain for some way of passing the time. Different amusements were invented for the occasion. The first amusement consisted in paper boats, with which they ran races, and the drift of these frail vessels over the water afforded some excitement. Then they made wooden boats with huge paper sails. In this last Bart showed a superiority to the others; for, by means of a piece of iron hoop, which he inserted as a keel, he produced a boat which was able to carry an immense press of sail, and in the faint and scarce perceptible breeze, easily distanced the others. This accomplishment Bart owed to his training in a seaport town.

At length one of them proposed that they should try to catch fish. Captain Corbet, in answer to their eager inquiries, informed them that there were fish everywhere about the bay; on learning which they became eager to try their skill. Some herring were on board, forming part of the stores, and these were taken for bait. Among the miscellaneous contents of the cabin a few hooks were found, which were somewhat rusty, it is true, yet still good enough for the purpose before them. Lines, of course, were easily procured, and soon a half dozen baited hooks were down in the water, while a half dozen boys, eager with suspense, watched the surface of the water.

For a half hour they held their lines suspended without any result; but at the end of that time, a cry from Phil roused them, and on looking round they saw him clinging with all his might to his line, which was tugged at tightly by something in the water. Bruce ran to help him, and soon their united efforts succeeded in landing on the deck of the vessel a codfish of very respectable size. The sight of this was greeted with cheers by the others, and served to stimulate them to their work.

After this others were caught, and before half an hour more some twenty codfish, of various sizes, lay about the deck, as trophies of their piscatory skill. They were now more excited than ever, and all had their hooks in the water, and were waiting eagerly for a bite, when an exclamation from Captain Corbet roused them.

On turning their heads, and looking in the direction where he was pointing, they saw a steamboat approaching them. It was coming from the head of the bay on the New Brunswick side, and had hitherto been concealed by the projecting cape.

"What's that?" said Bart. "Is it the St. John steamer?"

"No, SIR," said the captain. "She's a man-o'-war steamer—the revenoo cutter, I do believe."

"How do you know?"

"Why, by her shape."

"She seems to be coming this way."

"Yes, bound to Minas Bay, I s'pose. Wal, wal, wal! strange too,—how singoolarly calm an onterrified I feel in'ardly. Why, boys, I've seen the time when the sight of a approachin revenoo vessel would make me shiver an shake from stem to starn. But now how changed! Such, my friends, is the mootability of human life!"

The boys looked at the steamer for a few moments, but at length went back to their fishing. The approaching steamer had nothing in it to excite curiosity: such an object was too familiar to withdraw their thoughts from the excitement of their lines and hooks, and the hope which each had of surpassing the other in the number of catches animated them to new trials. So they soon forgot all about the approaching steamer.

But Captain Corbet had nothing else to do, and so, whether it was on account of his lack of employment, or because of the sake of old associations, he kept his eyes fixed on the steamer. Time passed on, and in the space of another half hour she had drawn very near to the Antelope.

Suddenly Captain Corbet slapped his hand against his thigh.

"Declar, if they ain't a goin to overhaul us!" he cried.

At this the boys all turned again to look at the steamer.

"Declar, if that fellow in the gold hat ain't a squintin at us through his spy-glass!" cried the captain.

As the boys looked, they saw that the Antelope had become an object of singular attention and interest to those on board of the steamer. Men were on the forecastle, others on the main deck, the officers were on the quarter-deck, and all were earnestly scrutinizing the Antelope. One of them was looking at her through his glass. The Antelope, as she lay at anchor, was now turned with her stern towards the steamer, and her sails flapping idly against the masts. In a few moments the paddles of the steamer stopped, and at the same instant a gun was fired.

"Highly honored, kind sir," said Captain Corbet, with a grin.

"What's the matter?" asked Bart.

"Matter? Why that thar steamer feels kine o' interested in us, an that thar gun means, HEAVE TO."

"Are you going to heave to?"

"Nary heave."

"Why not?"

"Can't come it no how; cos why, I'm hove to, with the anchor hard and fast, ony they can't see that we're anchored."

Suddenly a cry came over the water from a man on the quarter-deck.

"Ship aho-o-o-o-o-oy!"

"Hel-lo-o-o-o-o!"

Such was the informal reply of Captain Corbet.

"Heave to-o-o-o, till I send a boat aboard."

"Hoo-r-a-a-a-a-ay!"

Such was again Captain Corbet's cheerful and informal answer.

"Wal! wal wal!" he exclaimed, "it does beat my grandmother—they're goin to send a boat aboard."

"What for?"

Captain Corbet grinned, and shook his head, and chuckled very vehemently, but said nothing. He appeared to be excessively amused with his own thoughts. The boys looked at the steamer, and then at Captain Corbet, in some wonder; but as he said nothing, they were silent, and waited to see what was going to happen. Meanwhile Solomon, roused from some mysterious culinary duties by the report of the gun, had scrambled upon the deck, and stood with the others looking out over the water at the steamer.

In a few moments the steamer's boat was launched, and a half dozen sailors got in, followed by an officer. Then they put off, and rowed with vigorous strokes towards the schooner.

Captain Corbet watched the boat for some time in silence.

"Cur'ouser an cur'ouser," he said, at length. "I've knowed the time, boys, when sech an incident as this, on the briny deep, would have fairly keeled me over, an made me moot, an riz every har o' my head; but look at me now. Do I tremble? do I shake? Here, feel my pulse."

Phil, who stood nearest, put his finger on the outstretched wrist of the captain.

"Doos it beat?"

"No," said Phil.

"Course it beats; but then it ony beats nateral. You ain't feelin the right spot—the humane pulse not bein sitooated on the BACK of the hand," he added mildly, "but here;" and he removed Phil's inexperienced finger to the place where the pulse lies. "Thar, now," he added, "as that pulse beats now, even so it beat a half hour ago, before that thar steamer hev in sight. Why, boys, I've knowed the time when this humane pulse bet like all possessed. You see, I've lived a life of adventoor, in spite of my meek and quiet natoor, an hev dabbled at odd times in the smugglin business. But they don't catch me this time—I've retired from that thar, an the Antelope lets the revenoo rest in peace."

The boat drew nearer and nearer, and the officer at the stern looked scrutinizingly at the Antelope. There was an air of perplexity about his face, which was very visible to those on board, and the perplexity deepened and intensified as his eyes rested on the flag of the "B. O. W. C."

"Leave him to me," said Captain Corbet. "Leave that thar young man to me. I enjy havin to do with a revenoo officer jest now; so don't go an put in your oars, but jest leave him to me."

"All right, captain; we won't say a word," said Bruce. "We'll go on with our fishing quietly. Come, boys—look sharp, and down with your lines."

The interest which they had felt in these new proceedings had caused the boys to pull up their hooks; but now, at Bruce's word, they put them in the water once more, and resumed their fishing, only casting sidelong glances at the approaching boat.

In a few minutes the boat was alongside, and the officer leaped on board. He looked all around, at the fish lying about the deck, at the boys engaged in fishing, at Captain Corbet, at Solomon, at the mysterious flag aloft, and finally at the boys. These all took no notice of him, but appeared to be intent on their task.

"What schooner is this?" he asked, abruptly.

"The schooner Antelope, Corbet master," replied the captain.

"Are you the master?"

"I am."

"Where do you belong?"

"Grand Pre."

"Grand Pre?

"Yes."

"Hm," he replied, with a stare around—"Grand Pre—ah—-hm."

"Yes, jest so."

"What's that?"

"I briefly remarked that it was jest so."

"What's the reason you didn't lie to, when you were hailed?"

"Lay to?"

"Yes."

"Couldn't do it."

"What do you mean by that?" asked the officer, who was rather ireful, and somewhat insulting in his manner.

"Wal bein as I was anchored here hard an fast, I don't exactly see how I could manage to go through that thar manoeuvre, unless you'd kindly lend me the loan of your steam ingine to do it on."

"Look here, old man; you'd better look out."

"Wal, I dew try to keep a good lookout. How much'll you take for the loan o' that spy-glass o' yourn?"

"Let me see your papers."

"Papers?"

"Yes, your papers."

"Hain't got none."

"What's that?"

"Hain't got none."

"You—haven't—any—papers?"

"Nary paper."

The officer's brow grew dark. He looked around the vessel once more, and then looked frowningly at Captain Corbet, who encountered his glance with a serene smile.

"Look here, old man," said he; "you can't come it over me. Your little game's up, old fellow. This schooner's seized."

"Seized? What for?"

"For violation of the law, by fishing within the limits."

"Limits? What limits?"

"No foreign vessel can come within three miles of the shore."

"Foreign vessel? Do you mean to call me a foreigner?"

"Of course I do. You're a Yankee fisherman."

"Am I?"

"Of course you are; and what do you mean by that confounded rag up there?" cried the officer, pointing to the flag of the "B. O. W. C." "If you think you can fish in this style, you'll find yourself mistaken. I know too much about this business."

"Do you? Well, then, kind sir, allow me to mention that you've got somethin to larn yet—spite o' your steam injines an spy-glasses."

"What's that?" cried the officer, furious. "I'll let you know. I arrest you, and this vessel is seized."

"Wait a minute, young sir," cried Captain Corbet; "not QUITE so fast, EF you please. You'll get YOURSELF arrested. What do you mean by this here? Do you know who I am? I, sir, am a subject of Queen Victory. My home is here. I'm now on my own natyve shore. A foreigner, am I? Let me tell you, sir, that I was born, brung up, nourished, married, an settled in this here province, an I've got an infant born here, an I'm not a fisherman, an this ain't a fishin vessel. You arrest me ef you dar. You'll see who'll get the wust of it in the long run. I'd like precious well to get damages—yea, swingin damages—out of one of you revenoo fellers."

The officer looked around again. It would not do to make a mistake. Captain Corbet's words were not without effect.

"Yea!" cried Captain Corbet. "Yea, naval sir! I'm a free Nova Scotian as free as a bird. I cruise about my natyve coasts whar I please. Who's to hender? Seize me if you dar, an it'll be the dearest job you ever tried. This here is my own private pleasure yacht. These are my young friends, natyves, an amatoor fishermen. Cast your eye down into yonder hold, and see if this here's a fishin craft."

The officer looked down, and saw a cooking stove, trunks, and bedding. He looked around in doubt.

But this scene had lasted long enough.

"O, nonsense!" said Bart, suddenly pulling up his line, and coming forward; "see here—it's all right," said he to the officer. "We're not fishermen. It's as he says. We're only out on a short cruise, you know, for pleasure, and that sort of thing."

As Bart turned, the others did the same. Bruce lounged up, dragging his line, followed by Arthur and the others.

"We're responsible for the schooner," said Bruce, quietly. "It's ours for the time being. We don't look like foreign fishermen—do we?"

The officer looked at the boys, and saw his mistake at once. He was afraid that he had made himself ridiculous. The faces and manners of the boys, as they stood confronting him in an easy and self-possessed manner, showed most plainly the absurdity of his position. Even the mysterious flag became intelligible, when he looked at the faces of those over whom it floated.

"I suppose it's all right," he muttered, in a vexed tone, and descended into the boat without another word.

"Sorry to have troubled you, captain," said Corbet, looking blandly after the officer; "but it wan't my fault. I didn't have charge of that thar injine."

The officer turned his back without a word, and the men pulled off to the steamer.

The captain looked after the boat in silence for some time.

"I'm sorry," said he, at length, as he heaved a gentle sigh,—"I'm sorry that you put in your oars—I do SO like to sass a revonoo officer."