Motor Boat Boys on the Great Lakes; or, Exploring the Mystic Isle of Mackinac

And then, without any warning, there suddenly came a vivid flash of lightning over in the west, almost immediately followed by an ominous clap of thunder that seemed to make the very air quiver.

“Say, that looks bad!” called out Josh; who was in the cranky speed boat, and had more reason to be alarmed than most of his comrades.

“What shall we do, Jack?” asked Herb, whose Comfort was keeping close on the port side of the boat Jack had charge of.

“Push on for all we’re worth,” answered the other. “I think I see a harbor, if only we can make it before the storm breaks. George, you leave us, and drive ahead; for the danger is greater with you than the rest. But don’t worry fellows; it’s all right, we’ve just got to make that bay where the point sticks out, and we’re going to do it too.”

CHAPTER V

A STRANGE SOUND

George recognized the wisdom of such a move as his chum suggested. If the wind kept on increasing as it seemed bound to do, and the storm broke upon them in all its mid-summer violence, the cranky speed boat would be apt to feel the effect more than either of the other craft.

It was therefore of great importance that he and Josh seek the promised shelter with all haste. Much as he disliked leaving the balance of the fleet, necessity seemed to compel such a move.

Accordingly, he threw on all the motive power his engine was capable of developing, and began to leave the others quickly in the lurch.

Jack could easily have gone ahead of the heavy Comfort, but he did not mean to do so. Better that they stick together, so as to be able to render assistance if it were badly needed.

Talking across the narrow abyss of water separating the two boats was altogether out of the question, unless one shouted. There was no time for an exchange of opinions, since all of them needed to keep their wits on the alert, in order to meet the dangers that impended.

Already had the waves grown in size. They were getting heavier with every passing minute; and the little motor boats began to actually wallow, unless headed directly into the washing seas.

It was a critical time for all concerned, and Nick could be seen with his cork life-preserver carefully fastened about his stout body under the arms, as if prepared for the very worst that could happen.

It was about this time that Jimmie gave a shrill whoop.

“They done it!” he yelled, regardless of the rules of grammar, such was his delight. “The ould Wireless is safe beyant the p’int!”

Jack saw that what he said seemed to be so. The speed boat had evidently managed to reach a spot where the jutting tongue of land helped to shield her from the oncoming waves. She no longer plunged up and down like a cork on the water, though continuing her onward progress.

The sight spurred the others on to renewed zeal. If George could do it, then the same measure of success should come their way.

Five minutes later Jack noticed that there was an apparent abatement of the wild fury with which the heaving billows were beating against the bow of his little craft. A look ahead told him the comforting news that already was the extreme point standing between the two boats and the sweep of the seas.

“We do be safe!” shouted Jimmie; who, in his excitable way seemed ready to try and dance a jig then and there, an operation that would have been attended with considerable danger to the safety of the Tramp’s human cargo.

“And not a minute too soon!” said Jack, as a sudden gust of wind tore past, that might have been fatal to his boat had it been wallowing in one of those seas just then.

As it was, they had about all they could do to push on against the fierce gale, protected as they were by the cape of land. The spray was flying furiously over that point, as the waves dashed against its further side. But the boys knew they were safe from harm, and could stand a wetting with some degree of patience.

George was waiting for them, his anchor down, at a point he considered the best they could make for the present. He had managed to pull on his oilskins, and was looking just like a seasoned old tar as the other boats drew in.

Jimmie and Nick were ready with the mudhooks, under the directions of their respective skippers. Hardly had these found a temporary resting-place at the bottom, than all four lads seized upon their rainproof suits, and presently they were as well provided against the downpour as George.

And the rain certainly did descend in a deluge for a short time. They had all they could do to prevent the boats from being half swamped, such was the tremendous violence with which the torrent was hurled against them by the howling wind.

But after all, it was only a summer squall. In less than half an hour the sun peeped out, as if smiling over the deluge of tears. The wind had gone down before, but of course the waves were still rolling very heavily outside.

“That settles our going on today!” declared George, as he pointed at the outer terminus of the cape, past which they could see the rollers chasing one another, as if in a great game of tag.

“It’s pretty late in the afternoon anyhow,” declared Josh, who was secretly worried for fear lest his rather reckless skipper might want to put forth again.

“Yes, and we might look a long way ahead without finding a chance to drop into a harbor as good as this,” remarked Herb.

“You’re all right,” laughed Jack; “and we’d be sillies to even dream of leaving this bully nook now. Besides, if tomorrow is decent, we can make an extra early start in the morning, and get to Mackinac before dark.”

“That suits me all right,” Nick observed, as he complacently started to remove his oilskins, so that he could pay attention to the bulky cork life preserver, which he did not mean to wear all night.

They found that it was possible to make a point much closer to the shore, and it was decided to do so, especially after sharp-eyed Jimmie had discovered signs of a farm near by, possibly belonging to a grower of apples, since a vast orchard seemed to cover many acres.

“I hope that big power boat wasn’t caught in that stiff blow,” Jack remarked, as they were getting ready to go ashore in order to stretch their legs a bit and look around.

“Oh! I guess they must have made Mackinac,” said George. “She was a hurry-boat, all right, and the wind would not bother her like it did our small fry.”

“Thank you, George, for that comforting remark. I was really getting worried myself about the Mermaid,” observed Nick.

“Listen to Buster, would you, fellows?” cried Josh. “I never thought he’d go back on the girls we left behind us, and particularly Rosie!”

But Nick only grinned as they joined in the laugh.

“I’m a privileged character now,” he asserted, stoutly. “A sailor is said to have a best girl in every port, you know, fellows. And every one of you will agree with me that Sallie Bliss is as pretty as a peach.”

“And just your size too, Buster,” declared Herb.

“Look out for an engagement with some dime museum company as the fat” – started Josh; when he had to dodge something thrown at him by the object of this persecution, and the sentence was never completed.

The ground being sandy close to the water, they concluded to start a fire, so as to cook supper ashore, since it was so much more “homey” as Nick said, for them to be together at mealtimes. But all were of the opinion that it would be advisable to sleep on board.

“Another hot squall might spring up during the night,” observed George, “and just fancy our tents going sailing off to sea. Of course I don’t hanker about putting in a night in such cramped quarters as my narrow boat affords; but it can’t come anywhere near what I went through with when Buster was my shipmate, down on the Mississippi.”

“And then somebody ought to go after milk and eggs,” suggested Herb.

“Here, don’t everybody look at me,” Nick bridled up. “I guess it’s the turn of another bunch this time. Josh and myself have served our country as haulers of the necessities.”

“But every farmer doesn’t own a bull, Buster,” remarked George.

“Well, I object to bulldogs just as much. Little fellows are all right, likewise pussy cats; but deliver me from the kind that hold on to all they grab. Nixey. You and Jack try it this time, George.”

“That’s only fair,” spoke up the latter, immediately.

“Well,” said George, “if we’re going, the sooner we start the better; because you see the old sun is hanging right over the horizon.”

“And I’m nearly caved in for want of proper nourishment,” grumbled Nick.

No one paid any particular attention to his remark; because that condition was a regular part of his lamentations several times a day. The only time Nick seemed to be in a state of absolute contentment was the half hour following a gorging bee; and then he beamed satisfaction.

Accordingly the pair started forth, armed with a tin bucket for the milk. George had no great love for biting dogs himself, and as they approached the vicinity of the farm buildings he suggested to his companion that they arm themselves with stout canes, with which they might defend themselves in case of an emergency.

“Looks like a prosperous place, all right,” Jack observed as they saw the buildings and the neat appearance of things in general.

“But seems to me it’s awful lonely here,” remarked George. “Where can the people all be? Don’t see any children about, or women folks. Plenty of cows and chickens, but sure they can’t take care of themselves.”

“Well, hardly,” laughed Jack. “We’ll run across somebody soon. Let’s head for the barn first. Generally at this time you’ll find the men busy there, taking care of the horses, and the pigs.”

“I hear hogs grunting,” remarked George.

“Well, I got the same sound myself; but do you know it struck me more like a groan!” Jack said, in a voice somewhat awed.

“A groan! Gee; what do you mean, Jack?” exclaimed the other, turning toward his chum with a white face.

“Just what I said,” Jack replied. “And listen, there it is again. Now I know it was no swine you heard, George. That sound was from the barn. Come on. I’m afraid somebody’s in trouble here!”

CHAPTER VI

“CARRY THE NEWS TO ANDY!”

“Nobody here, Jack!” announced George, in a relieved tone, as the two entered the stable, and looked around.

A number of horses stood in stalls, munching their oats, which in itself told the observing Jack that some one must have been there a short time before, since the animals had been recently fed.

Before he could make any reply to his companion’s remark, once more that thrilling sound came to their ears. And this time even George realized that it was unmistakably a human groan.

“It came from over here!” exclaimed Jack, as without the slightest hesitation he sprang across the floor of the place.

George following close upon his heels, saw him bending over the figure of a man, who was lying upon the floor in a doubled-up position.

“What has happened? Did one of the horses kick him?” gasped George, always a bundle of nerves.

“No, I don’t think so,” replied Jack. “I can find no sign of an injury about him. It’s more likely a fit of some kind he’s just recovering from. Lots of people are subject to such things, you know.”

“Say, that’s just what;” declared George. “I had an uncle who used to drop like a rock right in the street or anywhere.”

“What did they do with him at such times?” demanded Jack, anxiously.

“Well, nobody seemed able to do much,” replied the other. “I saw my father loosen the collar of his shirt, and lay him out on his back. A little water on his face might help; but in most fits it takes some time to recover. But I thought I saw his eyelids twitch right then, Jack.”

“Yes, he’s going to come out of it,” replied Jack, as he managed to get the old man into what seemed like a more comfortable position.

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