Part 23 (1/2)

Perhaps you cant! Dont you stop rowing. If this boat wasnt held steady, shedI dont know what she wouldnt do.

If you stick something through the eye you can turn it.

Yes. Ill find something. Heres the can-opener. Grand! There! Its solid. Now Ill do the other one the same way. Hurrah for the screw-eyes!

You thought of bringing them, said Jonathan magnanimously.

You thought of using them, said I, not to be outdone.

And so again the imps were foiled. But they hung over us, they slapped us with spray, they tossed the whitecaps, jeering, at our heads, over our shoulders, into our laps. They put up the tides to tricks of eddies and back-currents, so that they hindered instead of helping, as by calculation they should have done. They laid invisible hands on our oars and dragged them down, or held them up as the wave raced by, so that we missed a stroke. Once, in the lee of an island, we paused to rest and unroll our chart and get our bearings, while the smooth rise and fall of the ground swell was all there was to remind us of the riot of water just outside.

Then we were off again, and the imps had us. They were busy, those imps, all that long, windy, wave-tossed, wonderful day.

For it was wonderful, and the imps were indeed frustrate, wholly frustrate. We pulled toward the quiet harbor that evening with aching muscles, hair and clothes matted with salt water, but spirits undaunted.

Hungry, too, for we had not been able to do more than munch a few s.h.i.+ps biscuit while we rowed. Wind, tide, waves, all against us, boat leaking, oars disabledand stillIsnt it great! we said, greatgreat!

Dusk was closing in and lights began to blink along the western sh.o.r.e. We beached on a sandy point and asked our way,where could we put up for the night? Children, barelegged, waded out around the boat, looking at us and our funny, laden craft, with curious eyes. Yes, they said, there was an inn, farther up the harbor, where we saw those lightsten minutes row, perhaps. We pulled off again, stiffly.

Tired? said Jonathan. Ill take her in.

Indeed you wont! Of course Im tired, but Ive got to do something to keep warm. And I want to get in. I want supper. Theyll all be in bed if we dont hurry.

Our tired muscles lent themselves mechanically to their work and the boat slid across the quiet waters of the moonlit harbor. The town lights grew bigger, wharves loomed above us, and soon we were gliding along under their shadow. The eddies from our oars went _lap-lap-lapping_ off among the great dark spiles and stirred up the keen smell of salt-soaked timbers and seaweed. Blindly groping, we found a rickety ladder, tied our boat and climbed stiffly up, and there we were on our feet again, feeling rather queer and stretchy after seven hours in our cramped quarters.

Half an hour later we were sitting in the warm, clean kitchen of the old inn, and a kindly but mystified hostess was mothering us with eggs and ham and tea and pie and doughnuts and other things that a New England kitchen always contains. While we ate she sat and rocked energetically, questioning us with friendly curiosity and watching us with keen though benevolent eyes.

Rowed, did you? Jim! calling back over her shoulder through a half-open door, did you hear that? These folks have rowed all the way across the bay this afternoonyesrowed. What say? Yes, _she_ rowed, too. They say theyre goin on to-morrow, round Judith.

Say, now, she finally appealed to us in frank perplexity, whatre you doin it for?

We like it, said Jonathan peacefully.

Like it, do you? Well, now, if that dont beat all! Sayyou know? I wouldnt do that, what youre doin, not if you paid me. Have another cup o tea, do.

The next morning she bade us good-bye with the air of entrusting us to that Providence which is known to have a special care for children and fools.

In fact, through all the varying experiences of our cruise, one thing never varied. That was, the expression on the faces of the people we met.

Wind and water and coast and birds all greeted us differently with each new day, but no matter how many new faces we met, we found in them always the same looka look at once friendly and quizzical, the look one casts upon nice children for whose antics one is not responsible, the look one casts upon very small dogs. Why? Is it so odd a thing to like to row a little boat? If it had been a yacht, now, or even a motor-boat, the expression would have been different. Apparently the oars were what did it.

On that particular morning, word of our doings must have got abroad, for as we stepped out on the brick sidewalk of the shady main street a little crowd was waiting for us. It was a funny procession:Jonathan first, with the guns and the water-jug, then a boy with a wheelbarrow, on which were piled the two dunnage bags, the metal box, the lantern, the axe, the chart tube, and a few other things. An old man and some boys followed curiously, then I came, with two big baking-powder cans, very gorgeous because the red paper was not yet off them, full of provisions pressed on us by our friendly hostess. Tagging behind me, came an old woman, a big girl, and a half-dozen children. It was the kind of escort that usually attends the hand-organ and monkey on their infrequent visits.

We loaded up the boat and pulled off, a little stiff but fairly fit after all. The group waved us off and then stood obviously talking us over. One of the men called after us, with a sudden inspiration, Pity ye hevnt got a _motor_ in there!

Though we didnt want to be a motor-boat, we were not above receiving courtesies from one, and when the Providence tacitly invoked by our hostess sent one chugging along up to us, with the proposal to take us in tow, we accepted with great contentment. The morning was not half over when we made our next landing, and looked up the captain who was to tow us around Judith.

For in the matter of Point Judith our friends and advisers had been unanimously firm. There should be a limit, they said, even to the foolishness of a holiday plan. With a light boat, we might have braved their disapproval, but loaded as we were, we decided to be prudent.

Id hate to lose the guns, said Jonathan.

Yes, and the camera, I added.