The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, 8 June 1916, Page 3

The Storyteller

STORY OF A DOG'S SAGACITY ' No, Skipper ! Go back, boy ! The water's too cold. We'll use the dory to pick up what game we get. You lie by the stove and keep house.' ' Oh, take the pup along, Aleck!' said Bob Harriman. 'He'll be company. What say? Good! Come on, old fellow! There— down ! No need of eating me alive, even if I have begged you a berth in the steerage.' Bob Harriman and Arthur Peters were two Canadian bank clerks who had this year arranged to take their vacation in mid-winter. They were passing the last three days of it with big, jovial Aleck Seavey in his fisherman's cabin on Spectacle Island. At halfpast three o'clock in the morning of December 31 they had finished a hot breakfast and were getting ready for a last trip after coots. Aleck brought in his thermometer and held it up to the lamp. ' Only twelve above ! There'll be some cold fingers on Forecastle Rock this morning. Here, Bob, take this basket of kindling down to the dory; we'll want some dry stuff to start a driftwood fire, after we get through shooting. Everything else aboard—lunch, water jugs, guns, tolers? Don't forget that reel of cod line, Arthur; we'll need it to anchor our decoys. Well, let's be moving !' Aleck shut the door, and followed Bob and Arthur down the slippery zigzag path to the little beach. Skipper was leaping and barking excitedly round the stranded bow of the high dory. " Bob and Arthur swung him yelping over the gunwale. ' Art and I'll do the rowing, Aleck,' Bob said. ' We won't have another chance to handle a pair of oars before next summer.' Seavey settled himself in the stern on the ' tolers,' the wooden decoys that are used in hunting coots. Skipper curled up at his feet. Steadily, although somewhat jerkily, the dory moved south-west over the long, low swells. The sky was black and starless, and a north-east breeze was beginning to ripple the water. ' There's snow in that wind,' said Aleck. About 5 o'clock a ledge loomed ahead. ' Forecastle Rock,' announced the fisherman. With a sigh of relief, the two boys pulled in their oars; it had been a hard three-mile row. . Skipper scrambled out, and dashed here and there as the men unloaded the boat and carried their ' duffel ' over the ice-glazed rocks and seaweed to a natural blind, a hundred yards from the northern end of the ledge. Soon the string of decoys, moored with a ground line from the cod reel, were bobbing on the dark water twentyfive yards in front of the blind. Aleck went back and pulled the dory into a small cove near the decoys. As he hurried over the ledge towards the blind, he slipped on the icy seaweed that covered a rounded boulder. When he got to his feet he found that his ankle was badly wrenched; but he managed to hobble to the rocks, where Bob and Arthur had concealed themselves. There he settled himself beside Skipper, whom they had tied to a rock behind tho parapet. You'll have to pick up the birds, boys,' Aleck said. An occasional whirr and splash in the darkness told the hunters that the coots had begun to arrive. As it grew lighter, they could see the birds skimming the wave crests and . plumping heavily down among the decoys. The guns began to bang. After each fusillade Bob or Arthur went out in the dory and picked up the birds they had hit. After dragging the bow of the dory ur> again on the beach in the little cove, the boys hurried back to the blind. v. •"- - Two hours passed, and then suddenly the coots stopped flying. There was a long interval of quiet; the tide was rising fast, and scattered snowflakes had

begun to r float down the biting north-east wind. ' Guess it's -all; over,' said Seavey. V * Whew ! How. that leg— he stopped suddenly v and then cried, Look, boys ! ; Look over there Bob and Arthur looked, and their cry of consternation echoed his. Down from the north-east, parallel to the ledge, and fully a hundred feet from it, was drifting a dorytheir dory! It was easy to see what had happened. Left alone for ah unusually long period, the boat had been floated off the sharp beach by the rising tide; it had swung out into the cove, where the wind had caught it. In two hours the water would be over the top of- the ledge. ' We've got to get that dory, and mighty quick!' Aleck shouted. 'lf we don't He started up, and dropped back with a groan. Arthur and Bob were on their feet. '... ' I'll go !' cried Bob. ' You can't swim, Arthur.' Off came his cap and coat; he stripped his warm grey sweater over his head, dragged off his short rubber boots, and stood on the cold rock in his stockings. There was no time to take off anything more. Scrambling over-the parapet, he slid into the water. The icy coldness of it seemed almost to cut off his breath. ' Swim south of the decoys, so as to allow for her drift! Aleck shouted. 'All right!' Bob struck out for the spot where he hoped to catch the dory. At the gymnasium tank at home Bob was considered a strong and finished swimmer, and ordinarily he would quickly have covered the forty yards that separated him from the boat. But he had never swum under a handicap before, and never when three lives were at stake. It was no time for fancy swimming; he fought through the water savagely and raggedly, knowing that his energy would rapidly ebb away in the bitter coldness of the water. He was tiring already; excitement, fatigue, and the icy chill made his breathing short and hard. He passed several yards south of the last decoy, and, watching the boat, as it drifted swiftly, broadside to the wind, swam on. Could he reach it* He measured. the distance with his eye; the space between him and the boat did not seem to be diminishing. His heart sank; if he missed the dory, he knew that he could never regain the ledge. ' Faster, Bob, faster !' Aleck shouted. Bob tore at the water. Black spots danced before his eyes and his muscles cried out for a rest; but he dared not pause, for the dory was directly ahead, with its bow towards him, and it was rapidly going by. 'Now, Bob!' yelled Aleck. . Bob made one last despairing stroke and then shot his hand up. His fingers just caught over the high bow, and for a moment he rested. 'Hurrah!' shouted Arthur. But Seavey said nothing; the fight was still far from won." Freezing, exhausted, Bob clung to the dory. It had been a terrible swim and his strength was almost spent. Two seconds more and the boat would have drifted beyond his reach; he had come too close to missing it to feel much exultation now. But the dory was drifting to sea; his struggle was not yet over; he must bestir himself and clamber aboard. Working along midships where the gunwale was lowest, Bob swung his right shoulder up over the side. As the dory rolled down he tried to crawl in. His legs "sucked under the boat, and he doubled up like a jack-knife. Writhing, struggling, gaining, losing, he at last fell back. He rested a minute, got his breath, and tried again. This time, by a tremendous effort, he forced the upper part of his chest over the gunwale. But when he tried to swing his foot up, it fell short; he tried again, and failed again. The gunwale curved upward from the centre of the boat, and that slight increase in height defeated him. \ i;. 'Nearer the bow!' Seavey bellowed. -.. v- Bob worked himself forward; there the side was higher, but the gunwale behind was lower, and he might be able to swing his foot across it. Once, twice, three times he tried, but -always his foot fell a little

short. He :; worked himself along nearer the stern, and tried there. Bob was no quitter. He fought with every ounce of strength in him to get aboard the rocking, swashing boat. But at last he gave up, and clung, gasping, to its side. He was chilling fast' and knew that he could never swim ashore with the heavydory, or even without it. There seemed nothing left for him to do except to cling to the boat while it drifted out into the storm. 7 After a while his strength would fail and he would drop off. And the tide would creep oyer Forecastle Rock, and Aleck and ArthurWith a shudder Bob glanced towards the rock; three or four rods south of the blind his two companions were bending over something. Skipper was there, too. What were they doing? Suddenly Aleck straightened up and swung his arm. ' Look alive!' he cried. A small dark object came flying through, the air. Aleck had tied a stone to the cod line and was trying to fling it over the dory. Breathless Bob watched the missile shoot towards him. Surely it would fall beyond the boat. But no ! Retarded by the lengthening line, it splashed into the sea several yards short of its mark. Aleck pulled in the line and tried again. This time the stone actually struck the dory; but it slipped out of the knot, and the line sank before Bob could grasp it. Aleck coiled it in rapidly. Skipper's excited barking drew Bob's eyes to the ledge;- Aleck was tying the line to the dog's collar. Good fellow he cried, pushing Skipper into the water. ' Take it to him !' Bob saw that the boat was fast drifting past the ledge. Could the Newfoundland reach him in time ' Get on the stern, Bob.!' Aleck shouted. Swing her into the wind and kick with all your might!' Bob got a hand on each side of the scull hole, and managed to point the dory north-east; in that position the boat drifted more slowly, but still much too fast to allay the boy's -fears. Hobbling down to the edge of the water, Aleck paid out the line as he urged Skipper on: 1 Good boy ! Good boy ! Faster ! Faster !' What if the line would not reach now. Bob kicked harder, and as he fought against the drift, anxiously watched Skipper draw nearer. Now the dog was only ten yards away. 'All out!' cried Aleck in alarm. 'l'll take it! Arthur cried. Snatching the line from Aleck's hand, he waded into the water. ' Come on, Skipper, come on !' urged Bob. The dog struck out with fresh energy but when he was a dozen feet from the dory he suddenly stopped. 'I can't wade out any farther!' Arthur cried in a despairing voice. The water was up to his neck. Skipper paddled furiously, marking time, unable to gain an inch; and then, slowly but surely, the gap began to widen. Take the painter to him!' Aleck, shouted hoarsely. In frantic haste Bob dragged himself along to the bow, seized the painter end, and kicked himself away from the dory. There was only four yards for him to make, but his soaked clothing weighed him down heavily, and his joints seemed of lead. Inch by inch, however, he drove himself on. Skipper whined and panted as he struggled against the taut line. ' Give him more scope, Arthur!' Bob cried. 'Can't! All out!' Only a yard more to go! But the painter, already pulled straight, had begun to twitch him back. Just above the black rippling tide, a hundred yards beyond the swimming dog he could see Arthur's face, white against the dark ledge, and beyond he could make out Aleck, leaning anxiously forward. ' Now, boy!' he cried, encouragingly to Skipper. It was the pinch of the game there were thirtysix inches to make, and three lives were in the balance* Drawing a sobbing breath, Bob gave a mighty surge against the tugging rope. As he lurched forward two or three feet of slack, caught hitherto inside the boat, suddenly pulled clear. Bob's outflung hand 'dropped

on Skipper's wet black neck, and his eager fingers closed round the line, which was tied to the dog's collar. , Fifteen minutes later Aleck was pommeling the circulation back into Bob and Arthur, as they sat steaming before a driftwood fire that the fisherman had lighted. Skipper had already shaken himself tolerj&lydry. ' Now for the cabin as quick as we can get there !' said Aleck at last. ' Boys, you'll have to row back to keep from freezing.' Soon they were pulling through' the storm. ' If we hadn't had that dog along ' Arthur began, and then fell silent. What'll you take for him, Aleck asked Bob. M don't suppose, though, that you want to sell him.' Aleck made no reply, but his look, as he smiled and patted the curly black head, was answer enough. Skipper snuggled up to his master.