The Young Ship Builders of Elm Island 3

The Young Ship Builders of Elm Island 3

CHAPTER II.

 

GUNNING ON THE OUTER REEFS.

 

 

BEN thought it was now a favorable time to do something to the house,

and made up his mind to speak to Uncle Isaac and Sam when they came on

for their gunning excursion, in order to obtain the aid of one to do

the joiner, and the other the mason work, for he and Charlie could do

the outside work. While preparing the cargo of the Ark, Ben had laid

by, from time to time, such handsome, clear boards and plank as he came

across, which were now thoroughly seasoned, having been kept in the

chamber of the house. He also had on hand shingles and clapboards.

 

They now began to remove the hemlock bark from the roof, and replace it

with shingles. To work with tools, to make something for his father and

mother, was ever a favorite employment of Charlie.

 

Aside from this, his great delight was to make boats; his house under

the big maple was half full of boats, of all sizes, from three inches

to two feet long. As he sat by the fire in the evenings, he was

almost always whittling out a boat. When he went to Boston, in the

Perseverance, he sought the ship-yards and boat-builders’ shops. He had

a boat on each corner of the barn, one on the top of the big pine, and

one on the maple, besides having made any number for John, Fred, and

little Bob Smullen.

 

He was now greatly exercised in spirit in respect to the boat he was

to make from the big log. He had resolved to make a model, and then

imitate it, and was racking his brain in respect to the proportions;

for he was very anxious she should be a good sailer.

 

He had not a moment to spare while they were shingling the house, it

being necessary to do it quickly, for fear of rain; but the moment the

roof was completed, he hid himself in the woods, and with blocks set to

work upon the model.

 

While thus busied, he recollected having heard Captain Rhines say, that

if anybody could model a vessel like a fish, it would sail fast enough.

He thought a mackerel was the fastest fish within his reach.

 

“There are mackerel most always round the wash rocks,” said he. “I’ll

model her after a mackerel.”

 

The next morning, just before sunrise, he was off the reef, in

the “Twilight,” and succeeded in catching three mackerel and some

rock-fish. Not wishing any spectators of his proceedings, he hid the

biggest mackerel in some water, to keep him plump, took the others,

and went in to breakfast. He next took some of the blue clay from the

bed of the brook, that was entirely free from stones and grit, and

would not dull a razor; and, mixing it with water and sand, till it

was of the right consistence, put it into a trough. Into this paste he

carefully pressed the fish; then he took up the trough, and, finding a

secret place at the shore, where the sun would come with full power, he

placed it on the rocks, and sifted sand an inch thick over the clay and

fish, and left it to harden.

 

In the course of three days, he found the fish had putrefied, and the

clay gradually hardened under the sand without breaking. He now swept

off the sand, exposing it to the full force of the sun till it was

completely dry; then he made a slow fire, and put the trough and clay

into it, increasing the heat gradually till he burned the trough away,

and left the clay with the exact impress of the mackerel in it, as red

and hard as a brick.

 

“There’s the shape of the mackerel, anyhow,” said Charlie,

contemplating his work with great satisfaction; “but how I’m going to

get a model from it is the question; however, there is time enough to

think of that between this and spring.”

 

He deposited his model in his house under the great maple, and devoted

all his time to helping his father improve the appearance of the house.

 

Our readers will recollect that the logs, of which the house was built,

were hewed square at the corners and windows; so Ben and Charlie

just built a staging, and, stretching a chalk line, hewed the whole

broadside from the ridge-pole to the sill square with the corners. They

accomplished this quite easily at the ends, but on the front and back

it was more difficult to hew the top log under the eaves; but they

worked it out with the adze.

 

Originally the house had but two windows on a side, and, as these were

on the corners to admit of putting in others, it looked queer enough.

They now cut out places for two more in a side, and intended, after

having smoothed the walls, to clapboard them; but their work was

interrupted for the time by the arrival of Uncle Isaac, Joe Griffin,

Uncle Sam, and Captain Rhines, to go on the long-talked-of gunning

excursion.

 

“I don’t see,” said Uncle Isaac, “how you do so much work; I think it

is wonderful, the amount you and this boy have done since we were here.”

 

“There’s one thing you don’t consider,” said Ben: “a person here is not

hindered; there’s not some one running in and out all the time, and

he is not stopping to look at people that go along the road; he’s not

plagued with other people’s cattle, and don’t have to fence against

them; he’s not out evenings visiting, but goes to bed when he has done

work, and the next morning he feels keen to go to work again. It’s my

opinion, if a man is contented, he will stand his work better, live

longer, and be happier, on one of these islands than anywhere else.”

 

As they were to start at twelve o’clock at night, they went to bed at

dark. Captain Rhines slept on board the vessel, as he could wake at

any hour he chose. He was to call the others if the weather was good;

if not, they were to wait for another chance. It was bright moonlight;

a little wind, north-west, just enough to carry them along, and

perfectly smooth. The place to which they were bound was an outlying

rock in the open ocean, more than seven miles beyond the farthest land,

upon which, even in calm weather, the ground swell of the ocean broke

in sheets of white foam, and with a roar like thunder; but when a

strong northerly wind had been blowing for a day or two, it drove back

the ground swell, and when the northerly wind in its turn died away,

there would be a few hours, and sometimes a day or two, of calm, when

there was not the least motion, and you might land on the rock; but it

was a delicate and dangerous proceeding, requiring great watchfulness,

for although there might be no wind at the spot, yet the wind blowing

at sea, miles distant, might in a few moments send in the ground swell

and cut off all hope of escape. As the north wind made no ground swell,

the rock could be approached on the south side, even when a moderate

north wind was blowing.

 

They were familiar with all these facts, and had accordingly chosen the

last of a norther, that had been blowing two days, and was dying away.

 

Some hours before day they arrived at the place--a large barren rock,

containing about three acres, with a little patch of grass on the

highest part of it, and a spring of pure water, that spouted up from

the crevices in the rock; a quantity of wild pea vines and bayberry

bushes were growing there, among which, in little hollows in the rock,

the sea-gulls laid their eggs, without any attempt at a nest.

 

As they neared the rock, they sailed through whole flocks of sea-birds;

some of them, asleep on the water, with their heads beneath their

wings, took no notice of them; others, as they heard the slight ripple

made by the vessel’s bows, flew or swam to a short distance, and then

remained quiet.

 

Not a word was spoken save in whisper, when, at a short distance

outside the rock, the sails were gently lowered, and the anchor

silently dropped without a splash to the bottom. The “decoys,” that

is, wooden blocks made and painted in imitation of sea-birds, and the

guns, were put into the canoe, and landing in a little cove, they

gently hauled the canoe upon the sea-weed, and anchored their decoys

with lines and stones a little way from the rock, so as to present the

appearance of a flock of sea-fowl feeding, and, lying down, awaited

daybreak.

 

The sea-fowl lie outside during the night, but as the day breaks they

begin to fly into the bay after food and water, and when they see the

decoys, they light down among them and are shot; they are also shot on

the wing as they fly over; and in those days they were very numerous

among all the rocks and islands.

 

It was a terribly wild and desolate place; the tide at half ebb

revealed the rock in its full proportions; on the shore side it ran out

into long, broken points, ragged and worn, with innumerable holes and

fissures, fringed with kelp, whose dark-red leaves, matted with green,

lay upon the surface of the water; while on the ocean side, the long,

upright cliffs dropped plump into the sea, and were covered with a

peculiar kind of sea-weed, short, because, worn by the ceaseless action

of the waves, it had no time to grow: all impressed the mind with a

singular feeling of loneliness and desolation.

 

These hardy men, born among the surf, and by no means given to

sentiment, could not repress a feeling of awe, as they lay there

silent, and listened to the roar of the sea, that rolled in eddies of

white foam among the ragged points, being raised by the north wind,

while on the other side there was not a motion.

 

There is something in the hoarse roar of the surf, when heard in the

dead hours of night on such a spot, that is more than sublime--it is

cruel, relentless. As we listen to it in such a place, from which

there is more than a possibility that we may not escape, we realize

how impotent is the strength or skill of man against the terrific rush

of waters. We call to mind how many death-cries that sullen roar has

drowned, how many mighty ships that gray foam has ground to powder, and

look narrowly to see if the giant that thus moans in his slumbers is

not about to rouse himself for our destruction. Yet to strong natures

there is an indescribable charm that clings to places and perils like

these, and does not fade away with the occasion, but lives in the

memory ever after. These men could have shot sea-fowl enough near home,

without fatigue or peril; but that very safety would have diminished

the pleasure.

 

It was evident that thoughts similar to those we have described were

passing through Ben’s mind.

 

He said, in a whisper, “Uncle Isaac, do you suppose the sea ever breaks

over here?”

 

“I suppose it does,” was the reply; “but only when a very high tide and

a gale of wind come together. Old Mr. Sam Edwards came on here once

in November, and his canoe broke her painter and got away from him,

and he had to stay ten days, when a vessel took him off; but they had

a desperate time to get him; and when they got him he couldn’t speak.

He piled up a great heap of rocks to stand upon, to make signals to

vessels, and to keep the wind off; and when he went on the next spring

they were gone.”

 

“But there is white clover growing here, and red-top, which shows that

the salt water cannot come very often, nor stay very long when it does

come.”

 

It was now getting towards day; they had three guns apiece, which they

loaded, and placed within reach of their hands. As the day broke, the

birds began to come, first scattering, then in flocks; as they came on,

they continued to fire as fast as they could load, the birds falling by

dozens into the water, until the birds were done flying, the sun being

well up.

 

They now took the canoe and picked up the dead and wounded birds, many

of the latter requiring a second shot, then going on board the schooner

with their booty, got their breakfast, after which they ran off ten

miles to sea, on to a shoal, to try for codfish; and as they had

menhaden and herring for bait, they caught them in plenty.

 

“Halloo!” said Ben; “I’ve got a halibut; stand by, father, with the

gaff.”

 

They caught three more in the course of the forenoon. After dinner they

split and salted their fish, and cutting out the nape and fins of the

halibut, threw all the rest away, as in those days they did not think

it worth saving.

 

“Now,” said Uncle Isaac, “what do you think of having a night at the

hake?” They ran into muddy bottom near to the rock, anchored, and lay down to sleep till dark, and then began to catch hake. The hake is a fish that feeds on the muddy bottom, and bites best in the night.